10-11-05 Suicidal Thought Level: Orange
It's midnight on a Tuesday. I should be sleeping but I'm up sick, worried over you. For the record, that makes me angry. And it breaks my heart at the same time.
You sent an e-mail to your co-worker today. It was in response to her best efforts to get you off of your self-pitying ass and go hang out with the girls. You sent the letter to me so I could see. Why do you do that? (Psycho-drama?) I replied that the letter was "Not ok." It contained way too much personal information and it sounded like a suicide note. (and you wonder why you don't get raises and exemplary reviews?? You're simply too much work for an employer.)
I love you. I resent you.
You replied that you were feeling as if you're on the brink of "suicidal thoughts" again. I wanted to shake you and scream "STOP IT!"
I am tired too, my dear friend. So very tired.
I am tired from lack of sleep and from constant worry. I am tired from fear of picking up the phone and hearing your daughter's voice sobbing "Mom's dead." I wait for it and I dread it and I don't pick up the phone when she calls.
You said you keep your daughter and me and your parents in your heart and mind and that keeps you from doing it. You say that you know we love you so you wouldn't go through with it.
I say you have it backward. You should love us enough not to do it. Not to even think it.
Don't go telling yourself that I don't understand! I get it. I am as manic depressive as you. I have my suicidal thoughts on a monthly basis. Like clockwork. I have had my share of good hard cries on the bathroom floor. I understand despondency and apathy and weariness and dull, droning sameness.
I suspect your problems are hormonal as well. We will never know that will we, what with all the chemicals you're downing every day.
You told me last week that the "good news" was that you used to be taking about 300 pills/month but that's now up to about 400.
FOUR HUNDRED PILLS. 13 pills a day on average. How is that good news?? Were you being sarcastic because that didn't come across?
Some of those are for the hepatitis. I understand that. How many? I'm betting it's about 6-8 tops. Probably not even that many. The rest are for the imaginary things. Zoloft - maximum dosage multiplied by abuse. Valium - 10mg multiplied by abuse. Ambien, Sonata...Vitamins. Vitamin self-injections! ...what else? I have a list here somewhere. I have a list so I can give the names to the paramedics when they need to pump your stomach.
You are considering paying $1,065.oo on your credit card to get the remaining few month's worth of that hepatitis medicine. EVEN THOUGH your blood work has been fine for the past four months. That idiot doctor of yours has sold you the idea that you have to continue taking it "to make sure it's gone" and "to prevent a relapse".
But every person is different. Who the hell says 12 months is the absolute? Your insurance company has cut you off because there is NO ABSOLUTE. He needs to retest. He needs to be SURE. There is no way on earth that I would stand for that. If that damned doctor believes so much that you need it, he needs to figure out how to get it for you. This is WRONG!!!
But you just figure out a way to keep taking it. Are you addicted to it too?
And for the record, not that you would ever believe me, Valium CAUSES diarrhea. It does not cure IBS. I want to tell that S.O.B. that gave you an open, lifetime prescription for Valium that he is negligent and I intend to hold him to that negligence if you ever take your life. I want to make appointments with your doctors (who are obviously not speaking to each other). I want to scream at them that they took an oath. The oath says "DO NO HARM!"
I may very well find an attorney who will take that case.
Won't that be a grand, legal lesson for your daughter? She can write her doctorate on it.
(But what if you are manipulating them? Is that possible? Are they writing prescriptions to get you out of their offices?)
The massive amounts of chemicals are not working and they are very likely counter-acting one another. You are 47 years old. You look 75 and you look feeble and frail. You have lost so much weight that your skin hangs from your overly visible bones. You will not eat and claim that you cannot eat. If you eat in the presence of another you feign such misery that you are impossible to be near.
You have not worked a full week this year.
You no longer have the capability to process information. I have conversations with you now that are painful just in the time it takes you to gather words.
Your sentences are barely coherent. You repeat entire conversations as if you never had them with me....on the same phone call. And you are oblivious to it. You are an addict.
And I - I have distanced myself from you. My husband, the recovering addict-21years sober, refuses to have anything to do with you or to even allow me to discuss you with him. He has no tolerance for you. He tells me that I shouldn't either. I am setting myself up for heartache and failure.
I am left to internalize this insanity. Damnit! He is right though. I cannot fix you! I cannot allow you to consume my life. I have to live my life and resolve my problems.
But your other friends have disappeared too. So I cannot go away.
And I do not want to.
I want to hear you laugh again. I want you to heal.
I remember Six Flags and Wet and Wild. I remember long visits and long talks about OUR lives. Not just your life.
I remember your daughter's dance recitals. I remember how useful you felt when you were working with that young girl in the hospital. I remember believing you were about to find your calling.
I remember that we laughed when short pants came back into style and you told me you just didn't have the body style for them. You tried them on just to make your point...and you were right.
I remember watching Blue Collar Comedy Tour with you.
I remember laughing at your story about taking Jess to the race and the rednecks all over the place.
You have the nerve to complain about your sister's Meth addiction and to say that she is selfish and she is killing herself. And that makes you a complete hypocrite.
I have lost you to the drugs. You are 18 again and starting the cycle all over again.
I miss you so much.
Can't you love US enough to be healthy again??
You sent an e-mail to your co-worker today. It was in response to her best efforts to get you off of your self-pitying ass and go hang out with the girls. You sent the letter to me so I could see. Why do you do that? (Psycho-drama?) I replied that the letter was "Not ok." It contained way too much personal information and it sounded like a suicide note. (and you wonder why you don't get raises and exemplary reviews?? You're simply too much work for an employer.)
I love you. I resent you.
You replied that you were feeling as if you're on the brink of "suicidal thoughts" again. I wanted to shake you and scream "STOP IT!"
I am tired too, my dear friend. So very tired.
I am tired from lack of sleep and from constant worry. I am tired from fear of picking up the phone and hearing your daughter's voice sobbing "Mom's dead." I wait for it and I dread it and I don't pick up the phone when she calls.
You said you keep your daughter and me and your parents in your heart and mind and that keeps you from doing it. You say that you know we love you so you wouldn't go through with it.
I say you have it backward. You should love us enough not to do it. Not to even think it.
Don't go telling yourself that I don't understand! I get it. I am as manic depressive as you. I have my suicidal thoughts on a monthly basis. Like clockwork. I have had my share of good hard cries on the bathroom floor. I understand despondency and apathy and weariness and dull, droning sameness.
I suspect your problems are hormonal as well. We will never know that will we, what with all the chemicals you're downing every day.
You told me last week that the "good news" was that you used to be taking about 300 pills/month but that's now up to about 400.
FOUR HUNDRED PILLS. 13 pills a day on average. How is that good news?? Were you being sarcastic because that didn't come across?
Some of those are for the hepatitis. I understand that. How many? I'm betting it's about 6-8 tops. Probably not even that many. The rest are for the imaginary things. Zoloft - maximum dosage multiplied by abuse. Valium - 10mg multiplied by abuse. Ambien, Sonata...Vitamins. Vitamin self-injections! ...what else? I have a list here somewhere. I have a list so I can give the names to the paramedics when they need to pump your stomach.
You are considering paying $1,065.oo on your credit card to get the remaining few month's worth of that hepatitis medicine. EVEN THOUGH your blood work has been fine for the past four months. That idiot doctor of yours has sold you the idea that you have to continue taking it "to make sure it's gone" and "to prevent a relapse".
But every person is different. Who the hell says 12 months is the absolute? Your insurance company has cut you off because there is NO ABSOLUTE. He needs to retest. He needs to be SURE. There is no way on earth that I would stand for that. If that damned doctor believes so much that you need it, he needs to figure out how to get it for you. This is WRONG!!!
But you just figure out a way to keep taking it. Are you addicted to it too?
And for the record, not that you would ever believe me, Valium CAUSES diarrhea. It does not cure IBS. I want to tell that S.O.B. that gave you an open, lifetime prescription for Valium that he is negligent and I intend to hold him to that negligence if you ever take your life. I want to make appointments with your doctors (who are obviously not speaking to each other). I want to scream at them that they took an oath. The oath says "DO NO HARM!"
I may very well find an attorney who will take that case.
Won't that be a grand, legal lesson for your daughter? She can write her doctorate on it.
(But what if you are manipulating them? Is that possible? Are they writing prescriptions to get you out of their offices?)
The massive amounts of chemicals are not working and they are very likely counter-acting one another. You are 47 years old. You look 75 and you look feeble and frail. You have lost so much weight that your skin hangs from your overly visible bones. You will not eat and claim that you cannot eat. If you eat in the presence of another you feign such misery that you are impossible to be near.
You have not worked a full week this year.
You no longer have the capability to process information. I have conversations with you now that are painful just in the time it takes you to gather words.
Your sentences are barely coherent. You repeat entire conversations as if you never had them with me....on the same phone call. And you are oblivious to it. You are an addict.
And I - I have distanced myself from you. My husband, the recovering addict-21years sober, refuses to have anything to do with you or to even allow me to discuss you with him. He has no tolerance for you. He tells me that I shouldn't either. I am setting myself up for heartache and failure.
I am left to internalize this insanity. Damnit! He is right though. I cannot fix you! I cannot allow you to consume my life. I have to live my life and resolve my problems.
But your other friends have disappeared too. So I cannot go away.
And I do not want to.
I want to hear you laugh again. I want you to heal.
I remember Six Flags and Wet and Wild. I remember long visits and long talks about OUR lives. Not just your life.
I remember your daughter's dance recitals. I remember how useful you felt when you were working with that young girl in the hospital. I remember believing you were about to find your calling.
I remember that we laughed when short pants came back into style and you told me you just didn't have the body style for them. You tried them on just to make your point...and you were right.
I remember watching Blue Collar Comedy Tour with you.
I remember laughing at your story about taking Jess to the race and the rednecks all over the place.
You have the nerve to complain about your sister's Meth addiction and to say that she is selfish and she is killing herself. And that makes you a complete hypocrite.
I have lost you to the drugs. You are 18 again and starting the cycle all over again.
I miss you so much.
Can't you love US enough to be healthy again??
posted by Agnes at 9:51 PM
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