The "mental" impact of relapse

[Threshold]

I am puzzled by the behavior of those at work, on the one hand. On the other...they have a store to run, we are still on winter skeleton staff and we are slammed with Spring Break visitors. THAT is their issue, what they are worrying over when they go home at night, so it's most likely not insensitivity as them, understandingly, looking out for their own jobs etc. They have to answer to someone too.

Yes, he knows what the issues are now, and funny thing is I think there is some level of denial in the people around me. They NEED me to be OK.

I am a strong person, which seems ridiculous to say reading my posts lately. But I am, and I have been the go to person for many people over the decades. I think it is harder when someone like that fails, people don't know what to do. Either for me, or how to wrap their heads around the fact that their strong one might not be there for them.

They are not being cruel, I think they truly can't grasp it, even when I look right into their eyes and say...can't. They say, well, you will. Because hey, I ALWAYS rally and do what needs to be done. Always.

Even in the divorce, to some degree my spouse counts on me doing the "right" thing, the hard thing, etc. Well, I do think there is some part of him that hopes that I'll do myself in and he'll not only get sympathy from people around him, but everything else as well (which it appears he is going to get anyway).

So yeah, tell people outright...can't. And they say "must". And I feel more and more isolated and unreal. And then I start to wonder if maybe I am not real, maybe a character in one of the stories I wrote, someone in a tight spot that even the author is not sure they can or care to "save".


So, I guess I will get them through their super Sunday, and the guests won't have to wait in such long lines...though truly given my lack of skill on the register I think that I will do more harm than good, but it's the managers call, not mine. Then who knows. If I can get my **** together I've considered just packing my car, and driving cross country and to hell with it all. I mean, people have their actual limitations, and if my good work in my assigned position isn't enough, let them find an ultra woman, since super woman can't satisfy them.

There is a joke where I work, that the only way to insure job security is to stand in front of the building and smoke for half your shift while dealing drugs on your cell phone. The people who do that, rather than their job get gravy. I think they feel sorry for them or something.

Anyway, back to packing!

I truly do appreciate the support here. Like you, I do not mean to sound trite, if it is coming across that way. I don't feel that way at all, though a disturbing numbness has crept in. A bad sign always, it gets me through challenges when I am breaking, but it also allows me to do astonishingly awful things to myself without blinking an eye. A double edged sword is dissociation.

I feel badly for posting and thinking I should stop. It's sort of sick to ask other people watch you fall apart. So if I stop that's why. I think I have gone beyond the point where my posts can help others.

[keltie]

Oh no, you don't sound trite at all! I hope you didn't take it that way. I also hope you don't stop posting. I think it's therapeutic for you AND you're also helping others, believe me.

I hope I don't sound condescending at all, but are you at all able to get SSI for mental health? You may not be able to work and you DO have a legitimate mental illness ...is there any way for that to happen? I don't know what's better for your mental state anyhow- is working better? I just think it's so unfair for you to suffer this way while you've been trying everything you can.

[RobbyRobot]

Originally Posted by Threshold

I truly do appreciate the support here. Like you, I do not mean to sound trite, if it is coming across that way. I don't feel that way at all, though a disturbing numbness has crept in. A bad sign always, it gets me through challenges when I am breaking, but it also allows me to do astonishingly awful things to myself without blinking an eye. A double edged sword is dissociation.

I feel badly for posting and thinking I should stop. It's sort of sick to ask other people watch you fall apart. So if I stop that's why. I think I have gone beyond the point where my posts can help others.

Be assured, nothing in this thread is at all trite. I've experienced the creeping numbness. Like a surreal beckoning into the abyss. Of course we are different persons, and so our reflections are what they are. I like your depth. I like your integrity. I like your sharpness and attention to details of the overwhelming mentality of it all.

I've been to some dark places myself. Yes, dissociation is both a blessing and a curse. Yes indeed. I speak from experience with dealings with my chronic undifferentiated schizophrenia through my very early teenage years untreated except by my alcoholism and drugging and finally diagnosed in my early 20's after another suicide run. I kept drinking after that particular run nonetheless. I finally quit drinking at 24 years young.

I'm 54 now and thirty years sober. Things have changed for the better but it was not a cakewalk and the struggle for oneness within myself yet continues.

Do not stop posting, Threshold. I understand about the breaking. I understand about the astonishing damage one can do without any bother at all. As a matter of fact i have some upcoming sugery this summer more in payment for things done in my feral youth. No matter. I will make it thru. I always do.

Please continue, Threshold.

[RobbyRobot]

Originally Posted by Threshold

I go in to work, and they ask how I am and I tell them I am pretty messed up and scared, and they say "nah, you're ok"

Is this what OK looks and feels like?

It is not OK, to not be OK in this world. That is hard to accept.

No, being Ok is something else. It is hard to accept precisely because it can't be accepted that not being OK is not OK.

My not being OK is something else again has been my experience then the society norm of what is okay or not, you know?

[wellwisher]

My "thanks" button seems to be on the fritz again...works for the first few posts and then just craps out.

Threshold, please keep posting, and thank you for posting. If you don't mind me saying, you are going through some pretty big changes in your life, which can be intimidating enough, but my experience has been that when things happen, something new can be built from it...

Change is always intimidating for me, and usually, I only see the benefit from the 20/20 hindsight perspective.

Do you have any insurance coverage at all?

I hope you don't decide to stop posting.

On the lighter side, I know how spring break goes; only I was the 33 year old drunken idiot hanging out with the 20 year olds in my perpetual drunken pursuit for the fountain of youth.

Thank goodness those days are over for me, (I'm about to turn 52), but you must have the patience of a saint to deal with those college spring breakers! I get the sense that your boss has confidence in you, because you are reliable, and really does have concern for you. He probably trusts you.

[Threshold]

Yes, my boss does have confidence in me, and rightly so most of the time. Just like a person can have confidence in a great tennis instructor, but when a car accident has broken their arm, you have to cut them some slack for not having a great backhand.

One of the things I've always admired about him, and recently shared with his manager, is that he is skilled at discerning the strengths and weaknesses in the people he supervises and taking that into account when he assigns work. Ha hahahahaha

The other great irony in this is that a year ago, he was under extreme emotional distress due to the breakup of his relationship with his girlfriend. For months he was off his game, acting out at work, and needing understanding etc from his coworkers. His manager had to sit down with him a few times, talk, give him a "time out", tell him that yes, we understood and were cutting him some slack but certain behaviors...yelling, insulting coworkers and throwing boxes of product around, had to stop.

Well, I've done none of that sort of crap but no slack is cut. Damn, I sat with the man while he CRIED, listened to his rants, helped him clean up after tantrums of sorrow tore apart the stock room...and this is the thanks I get. Wow. I'm not asking him to hold my hand, just to lay off a little.

My boyfriend is MIA. Gone. Has cut off his phone svc, and makes no effort to see me, talk to me, or have any contact with me outside of the five minutes he sees me at work. He was going to feed my goldfish for me while I am away. I've made other arrangements for them.

Spooky times these are, very very spooky times.

People tell me that I am paranoid, that people only want to help me when I am down, love me oh so much and do NOT avoid me...that it's my imagination. I wish wish wish that was true.

Depressed people simply, as my son put it, are uncomfortable to be around. Even when we do our best not to soul suck, the black cloud is ominous and people run for cover. My loneliness is not merely in my head.

I am trying to watch this as an interesting observation of human behavior. It hurts less. Until I can't be objective anymore. Then I go away someplace and sob, pack my life in boxes, and jettison all the stupid, meaningless crap I've collected in some hope of building a fortress of security around myself.

I have these little rituals I use, trying to coerce and convince myself that it is all going to be ok. A new pair of hiking shoes, to prove to myself that I have a big season of hiking in front of me. More art supplies for projects I've sketched out. That sort of thing...see Threshold...this is what you're going to do, invest in it. Darn that trick for not working. I so hoped to outsmart the depression.

Now it seems a bit like standing in front of a tornado and shouting "be gone! I defy you!" The tornado isn't impressed. I've tried ignoring it as well, which I guess is also part of what going to work, paying my bills, helping people out and buying new hiking shoes is about. Depression, eh, no big deal, it can pound on the door all it wants, I'm not answering it.

Guess I must have left a window open.

I don't mind the Spring Breakers at all. Lots of college kids, but also lots of families traveling with kids. The other day I helped a young boy find moccasins for himself. He couldn't get his hiking boots off to try them on, so he sat on the ground while I untied his double tied laces and gave a good pull. It reminded me of all the times I helped my own kids with such, and my students over the years. Those simple human interactions that are what makes up a life, being a part of someone's day. Nudging each other along.

Yesterday I heard myself helping people. Helping them with directions, advice for equipment they would need, helping them find souveniers for their families and I wondered why that can't be enough for me. Everyday I do a little good in people's lives. Why do I feel empty, dead and invisible?

This is where people are supposed to rush in and tell me I have a spiritual disease etc etc etc. I've been attentive to my spirituality, that didn't stave off these things either (must be doing it wrong)...

Or maybe not...In the immortal words of Marilyn Manson..."There's a hole in our soul that we fill with dope, and we're feeling fine...Don't like the drugs, but the drugs like me. Don't like the drugs the drugs the drugs.."

[Threshold]

It's nearly time to get ready for work. I dread it less today, which is good. It'll keep me busy for 8 hours...grrr/yey!

I chatted with my daughter this morning online. She doesn't usually "speak" to me, but she got her birthday present from me yesterday and loved it.

She has a little boy and we got to talking about our kids personalities, and I told her how she was when she was a little girl and she said that is exactly how HER son is!

And I thought how I still have things to offer. I could be an asset in their lives in some ways, but there is the wall between us. I don't know what to do about that. The thing that keeps us apart is as real as the things that would draw us together.

Every few months she will chat online with me for ten or fifteen minutes. It's both encouraging and discouraging. Sort of like being in prison, and getting to talk to our loved one on the phone with the glass between us. It's heartbreaking when they leave, and we are alone again.

I am trying not to question things too much. Take it as it comes. If I get a little energy during the day, or the opportunity to relax, I take it. I admit being suspicious, but I'll take it none the less.

I am a bit worried though, because the more and more of my life I pack up in boxes and throw away, the better I feel.

I always prefer to erase myself before others can erase me. I want to take the small lightening of mood as a good thing, but I am afraid it is because I am thinking of how soon I will be relieved of this burden called life. I am watching myself and trying to figure out my true motives.
The voices in my head (oh so cliche') are getting pretty snotty and sarcastic, the worm is turning.

Before, I was sad that I was alone etc, now I'm relieved that nothing and no one get in my way. Before, I wanted love and care, now I just want revenge.

Anger does relieve some of the sad. Saying no to them...even when the reach out, makes me feel powerful. Where were you two weeks ago? I say in my mind. Where were you when it could have mattered.

But that is unfair, and untrue. When I get this way, there is truly nothing anyone can say or do that will be "enough", I just try to kid myself that there is.

Last night, I was home and the doorbell rang, it was my boss. He was at a friends next door and brought over some stuff that I'd wanted to try a few weeks ago, that he'd offered and then renigged on...which really pissed me off. So here he was on my doorstep. And I thought...why now..after all this sad, hurt, anger, why are you here now? But I don't like to be petty. So I took it, thanked him, all that. And just wondered why...because I want to believe that had he done what he said he would, when he said he would, it would have helped me feel less invisible.

But I may be lying to myself. I would p robably just raised the bar higher...I think that is the nature of this thing. Once it sets its sight on self destruction, it takes some major tackle knock down intervention to knock it off course.

[PaperDolls]

((((Threshold))))


grrr/yey! I feel that way often.

[RobbyRobot]

Originally Posted by Threshold

I am trying not to question things too much. Take it as it comes. If I get a little energy during the day, or the opportunity to relax, I take it. I admit being suspicious, but I'll take it none the less.

I am a bit worried though, because the more and more of my life I pack up in boxes and throw away, the better I feel.

I always prefer to erase myself before others can erase me. I want to take the small lightening of mood as a good thing, but I am afraid it is because I am thinking of how soon I will be relieved of this burden called life. I am watching myself and trying to figure out my true motives.
The voices in my head (oh so cliche') are getting pretty snotty and sarcastic, the worm is turning.

Before, I was sad that I was alone etc, now I'm relieved that nothing and no one get in my way. Before, I wanted love and care, now I just want revenge.

But I may be lying to myself. I would p robably just raised the bar higher...I think that is the nature of this thing. Once it sets its sight on self destruction, it takes some major tackle knock down intervention to knock it off course.

I endured suicidal ideations thru too many years to count while I was drinking alcoholically. I know of those ideations when I see them of course both in myself and in others when it is presented plainly.

You're speaking plainly enough, clearly.

I've learned some things about suicidal ideations, for me anyways, and maybe we can talk about that. I'm gonna share some of what I learned because I want to contribute to this thread and not because I'm pretending to know all about what your going thru. I'm saying your sharing in ways that bring me to respond is all.

When I told persons who themselves thought THEY were close to ME that I was suicidal they of course became dismayed. They also became fearful that I would off myself because they could see and understand why I was indeed suicidal. My details are not important in this share. Suffice that no one ever told me I didn't have my own reasons to kill myself, okay?

Sure they said this and that and the other thing that makes sense to them how wrong it would be for a person to take their own life. I would of course agree. Then I would be told since I agree how could I still want to die?? And I would sadly inform them that that is indeed the whole problem right there, yeah?

And they of course would be looking at me with great worry and concern. They would express their sadness, and their love. They would wish a better life for me, and they would hope that I would not give up and make the wrong decision. And they would pretty well be at the end of THEIR rope with me.

Yeah. That is the problem right there. When one knows in their heart suicide is the wrong answer and yet still ask the question of themselves, well, that someone has a real problem, yeah?

Yeah.Yeah.Yeah.

My suicidal ideations with my drinking was a recipe for death. People were waiting for the axe to drop. People. People like my family. My friends. My doctors. My teachers. My girlfriends. My enemies. Myself.

Myself.

It was like I brought my own weather everywhere I went. To know me was to avoid me. Of course I was told this was merely my projections. I told back "yeah, sure okay my projections... and also their fears too of what I'm doing with my life. I see it in their faces." Yeah, I was told. You're right. You present as suicidal to be honest with you.

Thanks for the honesty.

Voices in my head. LOL. Yeah, I heard the voices too. Schizo voices. Talking and talking and talking. Only the booze shuts them up. Drown them till their dead. What a waste of a bad life.

"There's someone in my head but its not me.
I can't think of anything to say except...
I think its marvellous! HAHAHA!"

-- Pink Floyd (Brain Damage)

Strangely enough sobriety has calmed and silenced them in an altogether better fashion then alcohol and LSD ever did. Alcohol shut them up absolutely but also pissed them off all the more, you know? They lived for revenge.

An alcoholic mind is a terrible thing to think with has been my experience, LOL. I (finally) changed my alcoholic mind out for a non-alcoholic mind. Quite the trick. It can be done. Hello, my name is Rob and I'm an alcoholic. Who knew?

Threshold. Thanks for the shares.
Please continue.

[keltie]

And I thought how I still have things to offer. I could be an asset in their lives in some way

My dear, you are so correct.

[Threshold]

I've lived clean and sober and I've lived not clean and sober. Living clean and sober eliminates an uneeded extra boatload of issues. But it doesn't eliminate the mental illness, which I hoped it would.

And then I hoped that the 12 steps would erase the underlying issues...(ducks and runs for cover from the "what step are you on, do you have a sponsor, how many years clean time do they have?) people.

No one wanted that to be true more than me (at least for myself) that getting into a program, getting a sponsor with clean time and serenity (23 yrs) and working the steps would make things immeasurably better.

I DID stop using and boozing. Which gets rid of a boatload of issues, but the mental illness remains. Which sucks, because rather like alcoholism, mental illness wants me dead too (at least mine does).

I even was (am?) in a 12 step for people who are addicted to suicidal ideology. I took suicide off the list of options. everytime that voice started whispering, I used AVRT sorts of techniques. So the thoughts hamstrung me in some other ways. Now what.

The other night, after a really rough day and an eye opening evening...I ended up sitting in my car in the cold in the middle of the night on the phone with a sucide crisis line. All day long the voices had been saying to me "how did you become this woman?"

This wasn't the life I chose. It wasn't the life I lived. It wasn't the life I worked for. Yet it is the life I have.

This morning, my boyfriend and I sat talking. I am packing for my divorce trip, and at the same time packing. My stuff, in boxes, discarding most of it. I want to be ready when the time comes. Because it's going to come, when I have to leave here. And I don't want to have to worry about it.

"Can I have your freezer?" he asked, then immediately looked distraught..."why are we talking about this? We shouldn't be talking about this!"

But we talked about it. Because it's real. "If I had cancer, would it be ok to talk about this? to be getting my affairs in order, hoping for the best, but prepared for the worst?"

Yes, of course.

So we talked about it, and he is the only person lately who I can talk about this with, because he is the only person who doesn't shut me down with a huge "well of course you feel that way, look at how you talk!" slap.

I feel worse after talking with them, better after talking with him. I feel real, seen, heard, cared for. not a puppet performing to make someone else comfortable.

My sister means well, but she thinks that forcing me to act as if everything is ok, better than ok and that I am about to soar like an eagle, will make it true. So for her, I have to pretend, feeling more and more hollow inside, more and more invisible, more and more convinced that if I don't say and do what she wants me to, I will lose her too.

My boyfriend is an alcoholic, and down and out. And we talked about that too. About how if he can stop drinking and stay stopped, he can get a start in a business (he has a great head for that) from his folks and move forward.

I need someone in the world I can talk to like that. Be real with. Honesty about difficult situations is not the same as negativity.

My sister in law, years ago chided her 96 yr old grandfather for saying he was old.

"You're not old grampy!" she scolded

He looked at her and said "How much older could I get?"

Failing to prepare for my probable future, because it makes some people uncomfortable makes ME anxious and uncomfortable. I have less energy and focus to address the mental illness issues if I am spending it faking, lying and posturing to everyone around me.

"I want you to be OK" my boyfriend says to me

"But I'm not." I say

and he nods. He knows about not OK. If the most important first step to recovery is to admit you have a problem...and then address it, why is that the thing that I am supposed to NOT do, because it's "negative thinking"?

I am packing my life in boxes, because I have less anxiety when i have less to worry about and there is less to overwhelm me.

"I'm keeping your art." he told me "because once your dead the value is going to go up astronomically."

We laughed our heads off.

I felt less suicidal, less alone, less unreal than I have in weeks.

When we were in bed last night (we'd not been in bed together for a few weeks) he ran his hand over my leg and felt my newest "tattoo" that I'd slashed into my thigh the other night. (and rubbed ink into)

His fingertips ran over it, like a man reading braille and he tried to guess what it was an image of, then described what he felt. "theres a big section here, then a smaller section, like a tail"

He didn't ask what it is, and this morning didn't make a big deal out of it. No threats to haul me off to the hospital (he knows how I am struggling to pay last years bills), no scolding me like a child. Simply acknowledging that I am scared and hurting and that he is concerned.

That's what I've needed. Just someone to be with me, just as I am. Willing to take me, as I am. And we had fun, eating corned beef and cabbage last night, and tromping through the snow this morning.

The most fun I've had in awhile.

Now I have another challenge, how I am going to get to the airport if we get another 12 inches of snow like we are predicted to.

And my lawyer left a message that we "need to talk" and that his office lost some of the documents I sent them. And my divorce is ten days away. And I asked for the time off of work 2 months ago and I am on the schedule for next week. And there is nothing to be done about any of that.

But I CAN pack my life in boxes.

One of my sisters is a psychiatrist. And she worked in a residence for emotionally disturbed adolescents. They were not allowed to listen to their "angry" music. And she argued that they should be allowed to, that they probably needed to feel like someone understood them. She asked me how I felt...she knows I listen to Marilyn Manson. I had to agree. It IS nice to know someone understands how you feel.

Listening to that music has kept me from harming myself many many times. But I am also fairly certain (well, from experience pretty near certain) that if I do myself in, that same music will give me the courage to go through with it.

Funny thing though. When I attempted suicide last time, I had my Ipod on. And it was set to turn itself off after 15 minutes of no commands. When I got home from the hospital I checked it to see what music I was listening to, what music had I chosen as the last music I would ever hear...And it was not Marilyn Manson. It was the Smashing Pumpkins

"Behold! The Night Mare"

I've faced the fathoms in your deep
Withstood the suitors quiet siege
Pulled down the heavens just to please you
Appease you
The wind blows and I know

I can't go on, digging roses from you grave
To linger on, beyond the beyond
Where the willows weep
And whirlpools sleep, you'll find me
The coarse tide reflects sky

And the night mare rides on, and the night mare rides on
With a december black psalm
And the night mare rides on
What i fear is lost here
The wind blows and I know

All you have to do is run away
And steal yourself from me
Become a mystery to gaze into
You're so cruel in all you do
But still I believe, I believe in you

So may you come with your own knives
You'll never take me alive
With all the force of what is true
Is there nothing I can do?

I can't go on, digging roses from you grave
To linger on, beyond the beyond
Where the willows weep
And whirlpools sleep, you'll find me

And the night mare rides on, and the night mare rides on
With a december black psalm
And the night mare rides on

I've faced the fathoms in your deep
Withstood the suitors quiet siege
Pulled down the heavens just to please you
To hold the flower I can't keep

[RobbyRobot]

Originally Posted by Threshold

The other night, after a really rough day and an eye opening evening...I ended up sitting in my car in the cold in the middle of the night on the phone with a sucide crisis line. All day long the voices had been saying to me "how did you become this woman?"

This wasn't the life I chose. It wasn't the life I lived. It wasn't the life I worked for. Yet it is the life I have.

I need someone in the world I can talk to like that. Be real with. Honesty about difficult situations is not the same as negativity.

"I'm keeping your art." he told me "because once your dead the value is going to go up astronomically."

We laughed our heads off.

I felt less suicidal, less alone, less unreal than I have in weeks.


He didn't ask what it is, and this morning didn't make a big deal out of it. No threats to haul me off to the hospital (he knows how I am struggling to pay last years bills), no scolding me like a child. Simply acknowledging that I am scared and hurting and that he is concerned.

That's what I've needed. Just someone to be with me, just as I am. Willing to take me, as I am. And we had fun, eating corned beef and cabbage last night, and tromping through the snow this morning.

The most fun I've had in awhile.


"Behold! The Night Mare"

I've faced the fathoms in your deep
Withstood the suitors quiet siege
Pulled down the heavens just to please you
Appease you
The wind blows and I know

I can't go on, digging roses from you grave
To linger on, beyond the beyond
Where the willows weep
And whirlpools sleep, you'll find me
The coarse tide reflects sky

And the night mare rides on, and the night mare rides on
With a december black psalm
And the night mare rides on
What i fear is lost here
The wind blows and I know

All you have to do is run away
And steal yourself from me
Become a mystery to gaze into
You're so cruel in all you do
But still I believe, I believe in you

So may you come with your own knives
You'll never take me alive
With all the force of what is true
Is there nothing I can do?

I can't go on, digging roses from you grave
To linger on, beyond the beyond
Where the willows weep
And whirlpools sleep, you'll find me

And the night mare rides on, and the night mare rides on
With a december black psalm
And the night mare rides on

I've faced the fathoms in your deep
Withstood the suitors quiet siege
Pulled down the heavens just to please you
To hold the flower I can't keep

[RobbyRobot]

Originally Posted by Threshold

I've lived clean and sober and I've lived not clean and sober. Living clean and sober eliminates an uneeded extra boatload of issues. But it doesn't eliminate the mental illness, which I hoped it would.

And then I hoped that the 12 steps would erase the underlying issues...(ducks and runs for cover from the "what step are you on, do you have a sponsor, how many years clean time do they have?) people.

No one wanted that to be true more than me (at least for myself) that getting into a program, getting a sponsor with clean time and serenity (23 yrs) and working the steps would make things immeasurably better.

I DID stop using and boozing. Which gets rid of a boatload of issues, but the mental illness remains. Which sucks, because rather like alcoholism, mental illness wants me dead too (at least mine does).

I even was (am?) in a 12 step for people who are addicted to suicidal ideology. I took suicide off the list of options. everytime that voice started whispering, I used AVRT sorts of techniques. So the thoughts hamstrung me in some other ways. Now what.

The other night, after a really rough day and an eye opening evening...I ended up sitting in my car in the cold in the middle of the night on the phone with a sucide crisis line. All day long the voices had been saying to me "how did you become this woman?"

This wasn't the life I chose. It wasn't the life I lived. It wasn't the life I worked for. Yet it is the life I have.

The final and complete ending of my alcoholic drinking absolutely did help with my schizo challenges in one way and in the other really brought those challenges home. In my face, more or less. The actual 12 Steps were not helpful with those challenges. The alcohol abstinence certainly, the fellowship with others feeling and having similar challenges helped more. The gestalt therapy also helped of course.

What helped the most was me deciding on a course of action that continues this day: drinking only makes it worse even though drinking alcoholically gives me the illusion of it being better. And with that I also went with this: secrets can kill me dead. No more secrets. I'm all stocked up, thanks.

When i accepted the illusion as being just that: an illusion, the puzzle simplified somewhat and without the booze the pieces became more accessible and recognisible to my intended use -->> ie my recapture of my lost sanity.

Took me awhile, you know?! A slow process, but doable. It really had nothing to do with the 12 Steps per se. It could have been any other way to abstinence and I still would have been able to face my psychic challenges of course.

The voices can be silenced is my experience. The creation of the silence necessitated (among other things) my being increasingly forgiving and open minded about my guilts, regrets, and self-bullying. Both imagined and realistic experiences needed to be brought into the light of inquisition and reformulated into a reasonable solution I could live with.

Yeah. Quite the trick.

Doable.

Silence is golden comes to mind.

[PaperDolls]

Threshold - I love your writing. It captures me and draws me in each time. I want you to never stop posting on SR. We need you here.

[Threshold]

My fourth step made clear things that years of therapy had not shed light on. My freak out level terror of confrontation. I don't mean conflict. I mean confrontation of any sort. Even good stuff, I feel terrified to face. I am afraid of the good as much as of the bad, maybe more so.

I am just as grateful for the hard stuff as I am for the easy. I'm an experience junkie for the most part, but I am now facing something I am not even trying to be grateful for. I resent the hell out of this. I'm not going to lie. I'm not embracing this divorce and all that comes with it. I'm not even trying. I'm accepting it but that's as far as I've gotten.

Friday night...was a replay of all the worst ways I have ever tried to spit in the face of my upbringing. My childhood was the best and worst it could have been. I was taught the "tools" to address all the worst life could throw at me at the very time that life was throwing it's worst. I resent the hell out of that too.

I didn't rebel full force until later in life, and it's mostly felt like a tempest in a teacup...late in the game. "Oh come now...why lash out childishly now to something that happened decades ago?" I don't know why. It's too late to change things. What do I think I'm going to accomplish NOW?

Well, one thing is this. I held it together while I was resonsible for other lives. I held it together when I had a responsibility to my spouse and kids, for the most part I did what I had to and didn't drag them down or shame them, or steal from them what is theirs. For the most part. But when I'd done for them all I felt I could, I didn't hold back. Every ounce of teen rebellion bubbled to the surface with a tornado like vengance.

I had hoped for awhile, and it was suggested to me by friends and therapists. that this was a stage in "finding myself" the way it is for adolescents. I was rebelling against the constrictions of my duty to others and trying to find out who I was beyond the roles I served in the lives of others. I had hoped it was just a mid life crisis. I hoped that this wasn't the real me, that those years of teacher/librarian/spiritual leader were not some fakey fake mask I'd been wearing. Now I have no clue. Will the real me please stand up.

Oh no, what if there IS no real me. People swear they know me, and that the me is someone worth knowing. I am sure they don't know me, well not the ones who think they do. It's all a lie, I want to scream, every good thing I've done, is a lie. But there is evidence that it's real...I'm just a pile of sh*t, but sh*t is as much fertilizer as it is something you don't want stuck to your shoe.

Friday night, indulging in every one of my addictions I could get my hands on, I felt myself slipping into the darkest hollow of my soul. Not only was I not fighting it, I was embracing it. "This, at least, is something I am good at" I thought...but I'm not so good even at that anymore. Darn recovery has even stolen my teenage mid life crisis from me. Is nothing sacred?

This weekend is my version of "Leaving Las Vegas" My boyfriend and I are two lost souls, sinking back into our addictions. We don't want to, but we don't know how NOT to. We lay on his bed, sat in my car, then on my couch, then in a hotel room (I mean really just like "Leaving Las Vegas") and talked about the bald faced truth. We are dying, killing ourselves, more and more hopeless.

"We have to get out of here" we said to one another, in one form or another. We are dying anyway, why not give it one more shot. Together, start over. Get sober, try something new. Reach out and make use of the few real resources left to us, and see if this time we can make use of them and turn things around.

Maybe the people here on SR can understand in the way most others can't, how we can sit there and talk about life and death as if they are cards in a hand of poker. The misery and degredation of active addiction seem like a choice to many people. Yes, we may choose to use, but what comes after it, we didn't choose. We didn't see it coming.

"Listen, we're dying anyway, right? We may as well try one last thing, we have nothing to lose..."

I feel like I could be done with drugs and alcohol, and bedding men just to feel less alone, and cutting, and all that stupid crap. None of that worked, if I'm going to kill myself I'm going to avoid putting myself through further pointless hell and just do it. He isn't generally as brave (truly it's cowardice) as I am, he'll drink himself to death, but he recognizes that it's suicide, if we have any shred of honesty in us, we do acknowledge at some point it's not longer self medication, it's embracing death.

Neither of us is overconfident we can make it work, find a way out of our self destructive maelstrom, but we are willing to muster all we've got and try again.

I'm in a motel alone. I get on a plane in a few hours to go on this trip to disemble my marriage, but way more than my marriage, my life up to this point. A lot of SR people will understand THIS bit perhaps more than the rest. I have to say goodbye one last time to my dog and give him to my husband. My cat too. And my fish. It's easier to say goodbye to the house and essentially all my belongings. He is getting my dog, not even OUR dog, MY dog. I have no place to bring my dog. And even if I did, is it fair to take HIM away from all he's known just because I f'd things up? Sometimes love means letting the one you love go because it's best for them.

My boyfriend isn't sure I'm going to make it back. Neither am I for that matter. He told me he'll keep my goldfish, he's grown attached to them. We've talked about what to do with my salamander, and that my boyfriend gets my freezer.

Yesterday morning, while I was upstairs packing, my boyfriend informed my room mate that when he leaves, he's taking the coffee maker. She didn't realize that everyday she makes her coffee in HIS coffee maker. She asked him where he is going, and he said he doesn't know where, or when, but when he does, the coffee maker goes with him.

I told him that it's going to get round at work now. That's how it is. He said he'll probably get fired, and yes, he might, but I asked him if that would be such a bad thing. Then you'd have no choice but to leave. I pointed out.

We're dying here anyway.

My room mate keeps asking me if I am moving, because I've been ditching belongings, taking my art off the walls. And I keep saying no, because I had no plans to go, but actions speak louder than words.

I get on a plane in a few hours.

Outbound Plane

I don't want to be standing here
With this ticket for this outbound plane
'Cause I've been here before
But somehow it doesn't feel the same
Talk is cheap, so we could talk all night long
We may never figure out just where our love went wrong

I don't wanna be standin' here
And I don't wanna be talkin' here
And I don't really care who's to blame
'Cause if love won't fly on its own free will
Its gonna catch that outbound plane

The old folks say loves not forever anymore
Because these young people walk away
From love alone, to pace the floor
Young or old I say that love is still the same
And you may walk away from love
But you'll fall head and heel again

I don't wanna be standin' here
And I don't wanna be talkin' here
And I don't really care who's to blame
'Cause if love won't fly on its own free will
Its gonna catch that outbound plane

Two lonely hearts in this aiport knowing
Neither cares where that other heart is going
But if love won't fly on its own free will
Its gonna catch that outbound plane

hat crown you're wearin'
Is just your halo turned upside down
Where is the laughter we once shared
Back in the lost and found
These broken wings are gonna leave me here
To stand my ground
You can have this ticket
For that lonely plane thats flyin' out

I don't wanna be standin' here
And I don't wanna be talkin' here
And I don't really care who's to blame
'Cause if love won't fly on its own free will
Its gonna catch that outbound plane

[SpeedyJason]

I don't really have anything helpful to say but I figured you could use one of these

I have been in the psych ward once and the hospital twice for suicide stuff. It's understand the "nobody knows me" and "nobody gets it" feelings... it can really engulf you at times. I hope you're feeling some peace today.

If you were going to kill yourself, I honestly think you would have done it already, Threshold. I can see how much you hurt, but you're kind of stalling out right now. You are holding on to something because you know there is something left--even after your divorce. You're posting here because I think you're still contemplating...

I am sorry that you have to give your dog up, sometimes I think without my dog I would lose it. I relapsed when I put my last dog down, I was devastated. They are the things that give me love and keep me going day to day...I can't live without one. I hope you'll be able to find a new furry buddy soon, they are invaluable in my mind.

[Threshold]

Hi, thanks for the hugs Speedy, yup, I need them.

Well, there is a new development in my story. My husband's lawyer, without notifying my lawyer or myself, had our hearing canceled, she says she can't show up at court because she injured her knee. She also claims that none of her associates can handle this case. Huh, what?

I spent my savings and all my accrued vacation to come out here for the divorce. They know I cannot repeat this trip, and will try to use this to force me to accept a settlement detrimental to myself. My counter offer is settle fairly now or I move back in.

So, we are in stalemate.

Stressed much?

I sorta can't believe this is happening, and on the other hand it sort was predictable. My lawyer warned me from day one that my husband's lawyer is dirty pool right down to the wire and is famous for this tactic. or rather infamous for this tactic.

Back to Speedy's post. Speedy, I don't want to kill myself. I just don't know how to go on. I love life. I am terrified of how I am going to end up because episodes of crisis with my mental illness are becoming debilitating. I do not want to end up in a state institution. Yeah, that's lack of acceptance all over the place. But if we are talking self care...

Don't know how many here have been institutionalized. It's not pretty. State hospitals worse still over regular psych wards. I've been sexually abused in a regular psych ward, and have met people who were in state institutions, they lock you up so you won't hurt yourself, and instead you're at the mercy of whatever sick ****er works there.

Sitting in the middle of an empty room with nothing but a paper sheet for comfort and a paper gown (no undies, might hurt myself with them) really not how I want to end up. Yes, I've been in that situation.

Does anyone really WANT to kill themselves? I've always just wanted to be able to deal with what life threw at me. I'm not about romanticizing mental illness, suicide or death. I want the freedom to pursue a good life, work on my art, enjoy my friends and bask in the wonder that is Sunshine.

Speedy, you're right, if I wanted to kill myself, I would have. What I want is to live.

My OD last year was a suicide attempt, and I admit, that as I deal with another "relapse" of my mental illness, I wish it had been successful and saved me from the pain of having to go through this again. If I could believe that this was behind me, and that my spells between would be long, this would be easier. But my mental illness is growing more acute as I age. That scares the hell out of me.

It scared the hell out of my husband too, hence the divorce.

I'm waiting...to hear from my lawyer...when I can stand beside myself as an observer of this situation, there are aspects of it that seem funny as hell. Too bad for my husband, that the kids are going to see what a douche he is.

[SpeedyJason]

That is rotten what the lawyer did. I hope things work out for you and that you don't have to settle.

Does anyone really WANT to kill themselves?

That's a good question. I'm not sure. I guess when I had my suicidal bouts, I didn't really want to kill myself but it was just the last option...you're right though, what I really wanted was to live an easier, simpler life and to not have to deal with all the shxt I was going through. I felt like dying simply because I couldn't see anything ever getting better...it was the only option that made sense.

My dad killed himself...I don't think he wanted to but I bet he felt just as hopeless as I did and he went through with it. Shot himself. I wonder what he would think about that question.

Threshold, I am happy to hear you want to live. What kind of help are you seeking? Is there a way to stop the progression of your mental illness? The psych ward I was in was in a hospital and you're right--it's no picnic. I don't talk about it much, but some of the staff really do just chalk you up to being batshit crazy and don't treat you right at all. I am sorry for what you have gone through and I hope you don't end up there again, but some steps have to be taken to ensure you don't ever get to that point... I have never been institutionalized, I can't say I know what that is like, but I know the psych ward is anything but comforting and can be down right scary, even dangerous, at times. It is unfortunate that we're not treated with dignity and respect, but instead deduced to "insane motherfxckers" (I heard a staff member say this at the one I was in). I don't understand it but I do know that not every place is going to be like that. They can't be.

So I guess it comes down to this: if you're afraid that your mental illness is becoming too much to handle and is debilitating, what steps are you taking to improve your grasp on it, if there are any to be taken?

[Threshold]

Speedy, it means a lot to me to have someone admit that psych wards etc are often not a "safe place to heal and get your feet under you". Yeah, they can be scary, dangerous etc. Lockdown on a ward when someone gets out of control...scary as hell.
I've signed myself in when I absolutely needed to, but the idea of having to do that on any regular basis, and then try to pay the bill is more than overwhelming, it truly feels like not a viable option.

Originally Posted by SpeedyJason

So I guess it comes down to this: if you're afraid that your mental illness is becoming too much to handle and is debilitating, what steps are you taking to improve your grasp on it, if there are any to be taken?

I am not sure if I totally understand what you are asking. I have been under psychiatric care for decades, including meds and therapy. hospitalization as necessary. Various support groups, self help programs, spiritual development programs. When in crisis I reach out to people who have said they want to be there for me, or to professionals who are trained to deal with my crisis situations. When those options are not available, I have a list of coping mechanisms, or time killers to use instead of harming myself.

but it is apparent to myself and my family and friends that as I age, my mental illness is becoming more acute and intense, and that my dibilitating episodes are more frequent.

I do get the question from well meaning people "well, if it was cancer you'd go to the hospital, right?"

and yes, I would. But when you have cancer you don't get locked in prison...I am in no way demeaning the pain and seriousness of dealing with a chronic or terminal disease, I may be vastly ignorant about what it is like
to be hospitalized for such, but I do know what it's like to be in a psych locked ward, with very limited visitor hours, and phone calls, and all my posessions, cell phone, clothing etc taken from me etc. No flowers, no chocolate, no Ipod, no outside reading material, etc, and on top of that "punished" by having what few freedoms or enjoyments I was allowed taken from me because I didn't sleep enough, or got angry, or expressed any feeling that made the staff uncomfortable.

My dad just had open heart surgery. He had visitors all day long, outside food, phone calls, etc etc.

I address my mental illness by living the best life I can whenever I am able, and seeking appropriate care when I need to.

I've done that for decades, yet it seems to not be enough anymore. That terrifies me.

[SpeedyJason]

Originally Posted by Threshold

Speedy, it means a lot to me to have someone admit that psych wards etc are often not a "safe place to heal and get your feet under you". Yeah, they can be scary, dangerous etc. Lockdown on a ward when someone gets out of control...scary as hell.
I've signed myself in when I absolutely needed to, but the idea of having to do that on any regular basis, and then try to pay the bill is more than overwhelming, it truly feels like not a viable option.

I agree with you..especially on paying the bill! Holy moly it sure is expensive to be treated like mindless cattle. I cannot say that my psych ward stay was worthless, I did get a few things out of it like intensive therapy to get me out of the hole I had dug for myself, but that's not to say I appreciated the way I was treated either... and you totally just reminded me of the freak out some lady had while I was there. *shudder* It IS scary.

I am not sure if I totally understand what you are asking. I have been under psychiatric care for decades, including meds and therapy. hospitalization as necessary. Various support groups, self help programs, spiritual development programs. When in crisis I reach out to people who have said they want to be there for me, or to professionals who are trained to deal with my crisis situations. When those options are not available, I have a list of coping mechanisms, or time killers to use instead of harming myself.

You answered what I was asking, no worries! I am glad you are still seeking help...even if you feel that it's not enough. It's funny actually...when I went off all my meds and stopped therapy because I couldn't afford it anymore, I realized how much (and how necessary) all those things were to me, when at the time I was still on the meds and in therapy, I didn't think they were helping at all. So I truly believe that it does something...maybe not a lot or enough, but something is better than nothing.

I've done that for decades, yet it seems to not be enough anymore. That terrifies me.

I understand your fear. I wish I had some advice for you but I simply don't have that knowledge... There must be something that just hasn't been uncovered yet.