Well. Back when I had my long inpatient stay with Dr X, one of my initial concerns was that I didn’t want to get attached to anyone, ever, because the other person always left. Usually, they do so when I’m at my absolute worst, because they decide that they’re not being helpful enough. One day a few months into the stay, I lamented that I actually had formed an emotional attachment to Dr X, and he reassured me that it wasn’t my fault and I probably couldn’t have prevented it. Between him and my social worker, I eventually learned to trust other people. However, when the time came to discharge, I was extremely hesitant to get a therapist because my previous ones had always left me. However, when I discharged, I got K, who turned out to be a lovely therapist and I did indeed get attached to her very quickly. The group home was horrible, but I got through it. I then had a PTSD hiccup after getting a safe place to live, which was predictable. After discharging from the latest stay, I felt good about my life. I would be in a daily outpatient PHP for 2-3 weeks, and then go back to work. My weekend was mundane, just like I’d always dreamed it could be. It felt like someone on the outside could have looked at my day and nothing would have stood out to announce that I had a mental illness. I went to the day program on Tuesday, and it was lovely. Then, I was on my way home when I got a phone call from some random lady who apparently was out of my therapist’s office. Apparently K had not thought that I was getting better, but also didn’t think to tell me that she didn’t think I was getting better. Anyway, K had told this woman to call me and let me know that she didn’t want to work with me anymore.
I was totally blindsided. I thought that there was no way that this could have been K’s decision. She called yesterday and said that she indeed had made the call, because it would have been a “disservice” to me to continue. Which, they always decide this right when I really need to be able to lean on them. I was already vulnerable because I haven’t been able to work in a while so I didn’t have my community there. I told K that she had really hurt me badly because I had a secure attachment to her, and I don’t get that easily. She said you’re not supposed to be attached to your providers, just only natural supports. However, I’m also frequently warned that I can’t talk to natural supports about mental health struggles. Which, to me, is like having cancer and not being able to mention it to your friends no matter what. So my friendships are all extremely superficial and I avoid them when I’m seriously struggling. But if I can’t be the real me around my friends or be honest about what’s going on or discuss anything of actual emotional significance, then it’s hard to form any kind of attachment. I’m also told that “it takes time to form friendships” and you can’t make them quickly. Which, the problem with that is, what am I supposed to do in the meantime? If providers are the only ones I can share myself with, but I can’t bond with them, how am I supposed to feel socially connected at all?
So I’m back on Proctor 2. People for the most part have been helpful, although two different people told me today that I had been overattached to K. Which, when you have very few people in your life, is prone to happen. However, that tendency is exactly why I was afraid to get a therapist in the first place. I’m like an emotional parasite and when I lose someone, I throw a whole fit.
I’m extremely suicidal. There’s one type of active suicidality where I want to use coping skills because I’m afraid of hurting myself. Then there’s another level of suicidality where I don’t want to use coping skills because I do want to kill myself. Then there’s the stage where I’m sobbing hysterically in the emergency room because I shouldn’t have come in, I should have just killed myself and now it’s too late. This third stage is basically where I’ve been at since Tuesday afternoon. When I get to this type of extreme, I get really tired and it’s hard to stay awake. Then when I am awake, I say things that produce looks of total shock and horror in even the most experienced mental health workers. It’s been tough. If I live through this, I’m going to get another therapist. But it will probably take forever for me to be able to trust them like I trusted K. And then they’re probably going to do the same thing. And I’m just not willing to keep going through this. There’s nothing about my life that is valuable enough for all of this pain. Plus, I have government health insurance, so my treatment is paid for by taxpayers. The amount of money spent on me already is absurd. It’s irresponsible for me to keep doing this.
I just want to know how much it costs (in dollars) to dispose of human remains after that human has jumped off a bridge onto train tracks. I thought it would cost the same amount as cleaning up a deer that was hit by a car, but apparently it does cost a bit more because I’m a human so there would be a lot of red tape. However, there’s also the fact that I’m going to die sometime, so I’m just thinking… what is the cost to dispose of a suicide, minus the cost of disposing of a human body that died naturally, and how does that cost compare to hospitalization? I get it that most people think that’s gory, but I’ll bet that my brother the Republican would whole-heartedly agree that my life has already cost the country way too much money. And he got that idea from our parents.
So, if I knew how to kill myself in here, I would surely do it. I’m terrified of being put in another group home, because that was horrifically traumatizing in ways that I can’t even begin to describe here. But I’m terrible and deceit, and they’re probably not going to let me go until I have at least some investment in keeping myself alive. I haven’t been this desperate to end my life immediately in at least a year and a half. Behind all the clichés is the same message: I’m supposed to form bonds only with natural supports, but do so without actually sharing anything of myself of any emotional significance, and I have to be able to patiently wait at least several years for friendships to mature, but if I look to eager then that will destroy the natural friendship-formation process. It’s like telling someone who is about to die of starvation that they need to go out and milk a cow and prepare a fine cheese and wait several years for it to be properly aged. And I have to have a therapist and I have to be honest with the therapist but I also have to be completely fine with the fact that the therapist could drop me at any moment. All of which in practice means that I’m going to be alone. And for someone who never formed a secure attachment with caregivers and also was homeschooled, being told that I’m supposed to go out in the world and be totally fine with having no social bonds whatsoever, is a tough sell. I thought I was dealing with active SI this summer, but now I look back and none of it was significant at all compared to where I’m at now. I’m just done.
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