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Monday, March 21, 2016

Pilgrim Song

Therapist called me last Wednesday. I had sent him a very short email that morning, briefly letting him know about the suicidal thoughts/depression/plans that exhibited themselves the week before. He called me about an hour after I sent the email which surprised me. He's kind of busy.

Therapist asked why I hadn't contacted him earlier. I said I didn't know. He knew I was lying.

Why didn't I contact him?

I think I'm afraid he's too busy for me now. We've worked on my particular brand of weird for about a decade now. From my perspective, I've made very little progress. He says I'm wrong.

I think, no matter what I do, I'm afraid this will be my life forever. I'll work to manage PTSD symptoms. I'll feel like my life is balancing out. Then stress will come and without warning, I'll be looking for ways to die. I'm afraid Therapist will be upset that I can't seem to manage PTSD when I'm under stress - that he'll say I'm not using the tools I've been given - that he'll tell me I'm failing. Therapist says that's not going to happen and that he thinks I'm managing very well, given that I've been unable to use available medications (the warning labels at the bottom of the ads are talking about me, personally), and that I take the proper steps to get help when I'm in trouble. He says he doesn't believe this will be my life forever.

I think I'm afraid that Therapist will go away. He did once, years ago. He moved far away. And I ended up in the psyche ward of the hospital. Because I told him I was fine. Because I didn't want a referral. Because starting over made me want to vomit. So I became suicidal instead. And I went through three counselors who told me they weren't equipped to help me. And while I value their honesty, it sort of sucks that I had to find Therapist again and drive 14 hours round trip to see him again. And I'm afraid not that he'll move away again, but that he'll tell me he no longer wishes to work with me. Therapist says that's not possible. He's not going to do that. But I don't think I believe him. Except I believed him when he called me on Wednesday.

I think I was blindsided by the fact that I became suicidal in the first place. I didn't see the signs. It just happened. I woke up on Monday morning and realized an hour later that I was obsessing about which pills in my house would kill me the fastest. And on the off-chance that they didn't, I was trying to remember where my father keeps his gun. And then I cried because going to that place felt natural and right, and fighting it felt horrible and wrong. And then I was embarrassed because I thought if anyone I loved knew what I was going through, they would probably not love me back. Because who wants to love someone who wishes to be dead? But Therapist says it was right to tell Darrin, and to talk to some other people, and to take the day off work-- my first in about six weeks. He said no one will stop loving me.

So I came here tonight to try to make sense out of everything. And I saw the comments written by Josh and Jenn-Van. I sort of saw Josh's comment earlier, but I couldn't really read with any degree of comprehension at that time. My brain had exploded. But those things helped tonight, though. It's good to know that someone who knows me, and someone who does not, will take time to comment when I'm distressed and trying to figure things out on my blog. So thank you. A lot. And also, Josh, thanks for the very inopportune, spontaneous phone calls and chats. Those were helpful, too.

I took a trip last week. And I spent time with people. And there were moments when I felt valued. I just don't know how to hold onto those. I heard a song on Sunday - one I think is lovely and that has some good memories connected to it. One of the lines is "I'm going to live forever." It made me cry. Not because I'm going to live forever, but because I'm going to live. And it won't be easy. And Therapist says it's entirely possible that another day might come when I want to die. But he says to contact him if that happens, and he (and many other people, he says) will help me remember that I'm going to live.


  1. I'm glad that my simple comment was helpful to you. Josh was the eloquent one, AND I agreed whole heartedly with his words. I do think about you even though I don't know you in real life. I prayed for you and continue to hope good things for you in your journey to being free of PTSD.

  2. Love you Dian. So sorry you've been having such a rough time. I'm very glad you're a part of my life.