Electroconvulsive therapy


My mom wants me to consider Electroconvulsive Therapy.

yuck jack sparrow pirates

 

I’m extremely suicidal, but some things are better. I have a job; I’m working with mentally ill kids (irony!!). I’m still isolating myself from everyone. Most conversations with my mom involve screaming and crying. Some depression symptoms have gotten worse. I’ve had a flat affect lately.

*sigh* At least, I’m posting something

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Another TED talk: Depression Stigma


He has a great point! He is absolutely right; the only way to destroy the stigma is talking openly about it.

 

However, I’m not ready to let the world know about my depression.

GoT_father told the truth

Yes, Sansa, he was an honest man and look what happened to him!

OK, that was ironic considering this is a blog, but the only people who know me IRL and have any idea this blog exists are people who already know most of this and I trust to accept me with the other stuff (I.e. masochism, bisexuality).

Dating, Maybe Not…


I felt confident for a few hours, then my sister-in-law told me about friend trouble. The friend has some mental illness struggles and the mental illness is causing relationship strain. The situation brings me back to my fears about dating. I don’t want to be a burden….but then, what? I never get in relationships because I might burden or hurt the other person? That means I will always be alone. Plus, relationships are give and take, as long as I act honorably and do not put undue or unfair burdens on someone, it is okay… but sometimes we crack and maybe we will do things we know are wrong like sending someone a suicide note and then disappearing for hours….. argh…must do more thinking….

*edited a few hours later* Well, confidence didn’t last long. Now I know my sister-in-law has a history of mental illness. I thought they were proof of healthy people enjoying BDSM. Now I’m rehashing all my “does masochism equal an unhealthy coping mechanism and not a true sexual desire?” arguments.

Seven Year Anniversary


My most recent suicide attempt was seven years ago today. I was 16 years old. My first suicide attempt was an overdose 4 years earlier. Since then, my parents kept all medication locked in a closet. However, a few months prior to my 2006 attempt, I started stockpiling my medication. It was the day before Christmas Eve, but the date never entered my mind. All I thought about was the unbearableness of the unending, painful, and exhausting rollercoaster ride of my emotions.

I don’t remember much after taking the first few pills, until waking up in a hospital 45 minutes away from home two days later. I vaguely recall a woman holding me down, saying, “You can’t fight it, sweetie.” The next thing I know, I’m in a hospital bed, with an IV, catheter, baby-sitter, and a very sore throat. It took more than a week for my throat to stop hurting from the “Garden Hose” the hospital used to pump my stomach. By far the worst thing about my attempt was seeing my parents for the first time. Seeing their tear-stained faces and finally realizing the depth of anguish my suicide would cause, is one of 2 things that stopped future suicide attempts.

Depression lied to me. I did not think my actions were selfish. I truly believed my family and friends, in fact, the entire world, would be better off without me. I thought I was doing them a favor. I thought all I did was cause stress and heartache; if I was dead, everyone else would be happier. Plus, I believed living would always be as painful as it seemed in that moment.

Seeing my parents in the hospital helped bring me back to reality. No matter how bad, evil, awful, horrible, mean, pathetic, or weak I thought I was, I hurt them the most by killing myself and that was the opposite of my intention.

Yet, even at this point I was not sorry. I wanted to die. People say once a person jumps, kicks over the chair, or swallows the pills, they regret their actions and realize all their problems are solvable. I was not that person. When I woke up, I was angry they stopped me. I was angry I was still alive. In fact, I disconnected my IV, hoping I was not too late.

It took a few weeks for the depression to clear, but while in the hospital, despite guilt, I still wanted to die. Over the years, the image of my parents crying at my bedside stopped me when I felt suicidal again.

…………

And then I took a shower and realized, this post is morbid. I learned some important life lessons as a result of that attempt and I still have a long way to go, but focusing on the present is more important. For example, the loving, accepting family surrounding me! I don’t know why they put up with me; I wouldn’t.

Compassion and Mental Illness Or Friends Who Accept All of You


I have a theory, people with mental illness tend to be more compassionate and understanding of other people’s flaws. For example, the first person to romantically accept me, every secret, every scar, and every contradiction, had a history of depression. Furthermore, I have many friends with various mental illnesses, some of that is by design like meeting people in treatment and I suppose the others are because we attract people similar to us.

Tonight I had dinner with a wonderful friend; we’ve known each other since high school. We met online and discovered we lived in the same town. At the time, we were both mired in our eating disorders and we did some rather disordered things together. The first time we met in person, we bought diet pills together. We ended up going to the same university and living on the same dorm floor (not by accident). Now we’re both in grad school! Tonight we ate dinner at the same place we met 6 years ago. Talk about full circle! She is one of two RL people who I sent a link to this blog. I sent her the Feminism link because I knew she came from the same world and might understand what I tried to convey. I feared there would be a lot of negative feedback. So, I wanted some affirmation. She did understand, but I did not need to worry. No one replied negatively.

Apparently my friend read more than just that one post. So now she knows more than most people. My family may not understand, but she is fricking awesome! She (as far as I know) does not share my proclivities, but she was not weird about them at all!

I realize the people who understand me on the most fundamental level and forgive my mistakes the easiest are the people in my life with a history of mental illness. That doesn’t mean I plan on actively seeking out others with mental illnesses as mates because I fear for any future children’s genetics; nonetheless, I think it is an interesting observation.

Masochism is Not a Disease


“For example, heavy masochists enjoy pain intensities  that most players cannot tolerate, such as canings or single-tailed whippings. Canings and intense whippings are performed by very experienced players and can leave welts, small cuts, and bruises, but these are generally considered acceptable as long as these marks can heal on their own. Some heavy masochists are proud of their markings following a scene.

Wait….That is abnormal?! I assumed all masochists felt this way.

“Therapists should be aware that dominant–submissive relationships, particularly those that are long term, may be characterized by levels of trust, intimacy, and sharing that  may be unmatched by many conventional relationships.”

*nods* This is my experience.

“Although it may be common to assume BDSM participants are psychosocially maladjusted, many have been found to be well-educated and well-adjusted”

“Probably the most important point is that sexual masochism appears to be more common among successful, individualistic people” (p. 120). According to Baumeister, such unconventional behaviors seem to be a way to temporarily escape from the Self. Indeed, we live in a fast-paced society with high stress and many demands, but also restrictions, on different aspects of our identities. Perhaps BDSM play is a safe way for many individuals to creatively escape, whether it be through means such as letting go of control (submission), experiencing pain or extreme sensation (focus on the body and/or natural endorphin rush), or temporarily become a different identity (fantasy/role play).”

Awesome, he doesn’t think that is a bad thing! I kept reading different theories of masochism and therapists kept mentioning escape for self as a bad, self-destructive reason.

“Again, the issue is not whether or not certain behaviors are morally okay, but whether or not certain behavioral patterns warrant inclusion as legitimate mental disorders based on solid empirical evidence and scientific inquiry. As has been pointed out, the evidence supporting BDSM as being objectively and necessarily pathological is lacking. To the contrary, the available evidence suggests BDSM participants generally are healthy, educated, well-adjusted and successful. However, it is unfortunate that many participants must remain silent about their lifestyles for fear that misperceptions, cultural and religious biases and judgments by others could lead to severe problems in social and occupational functioning.”

Who knows, maybe by the DSM-VII we won’t be considered mentally ill (for this reason 😉 ) I think I’m going to talk to my uncle about all this. I used to talk to him about my eating disorder when I was a kid. I want to talk to someone, really talk to someone, not just type my thoughts to people who don’t respond. I know I’ll talk to him about bisexuality because he is gay. Therefore, I know he will have no qualms about that. I may bring up the submissive/masochistic side to. After all, he knows me and should be able to judge if my motives are self-destructive or not.

Apparently DJ Williams is a Sociologist, not a Psychologist. I suppose I can forgive him!

Body Love, I Know Girls, and Self-Acceptance


More and more I think if it makes me happy, why shouldn’t I do it? Why should I care what other people think? Why should I care about the antecedents?

Perhaps it is true there are more dangerous people who are sadists or more mentally ill people who are masochists, but I also know here are amazing, compassionate, caring, intelligent people on both sides of the coin.

Yes, I have mental illnesses, they are part of who I am today. Even when I am in remission, they’ve shaped who I am. It is clear I function optimally when in a D/s relationship. The last time I remember liking my body and feeling confident since I was 9 years old was during a D/s relationship. Why should I give up that peace and security because of societal expectations?

Someone once told me even if I work through the antecedents, this will most likely always be with me. Why am I fighting so hard against part of myself? Why can’t I just accept it?

Mary Lambert ❤ makes me want to cry in a good way. “I only know how to exist when I am wanted.” 😦 FYI, I’m jealous of her girlfriend; she seems amazing!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j7tlFfKCESg

Masochism does not have to be self-destructive. There may be an element of self-hate, but it is so much more than that.