I had a burrito day yesterday

Yep, I was a burrito all day.  I slept most of the day, waking up to read or watch PBS.  Caught a second wind around 7 pm but never got out of my jammies all day.

I was not feeling very depressed and in fact, I was not feeling much of anything other than lonely.  Although my depression and suicidality has left me single, I get lonely often.  I have gotten much better at keeping busy, doing things I like to do and I am able to enjoy the pleasures of being single.

I saw a Facebook video last week and I swear my ex-husband was in it.  I thought about him quite a bit even though I know we were toxic together. I miss how close I felt to him.  I may even still love parts of him.  But the guy he ended up being was not the guy I married.  That was scary for me to see him change so abruptly and he would not let me have contact with him for several years after that.  Every once in a great while, his carrot would come out as a text reaching out to me.  I knew I would never get better from being suicidal until we had no contact.  We have had no contact for over 3 years.  I am much better as a result of that.

Seeing him on that video made me wonder:  Is he remarried?  Does he have a girlfriend?  I texted him these questions last night and he did not respond.  He never does.

This leaves me wondering what, if anything, I want to do about getting myself a boyfriend.  The idea of dating scares the shit out of me, I feel like no one would want to be with me and yet all I do is hang around my gay men friends and my women friends so I will surely not meet anyone that way.

Do I want to be part of a couple?  I think I do.  I think being part of a couple is in my DNA.  I have been alone for 8 years now.  I began mastering it just about a year ago.  It takes time and a great deal of work.  I have to reach out in order to make things happen.  I get tired of doing that, yet the consequence is being alone even more.  I would rather be less alone than more alone.  I do everything by myself.  Everything.

I am afraid of getting hurt like that again.  My divorce broke my heart and my spirit.  Most of my suicide attempts were because of the split from my husband.  I was in denial for a few years as I kept thinking (dreaming) that we would get back together.

I feel courageous having gone through all this.  Being alone has forced me to be braver than I wanted to be.  And though I don't have burrito days very often, I am glad when I wake up the next morning knowing that it won't be a burrito day.  I used to have burrito day after burrito day for years so this is progress.  I don't get worried when I have burrito days now.  I could feel this one coming on so I just surrendered to it and hung out with it all day.  I didn't tell myself I shouldn't be being a burrito.  I just burritoed on all day.

I just never imagined I would end up alone and yet here I am.  I used to hate it and now, I am not sure what I think of it.

Hello universe,

Someone in our support group on Facebook group commented on the Not Helpful comments she gets from folks, especially religious overtones.  I have had more than my fair share of being called a sinner and loser.

A good way to combat this is to write down what you would like to hear from people on a piece of paper, make copies and hand them out.  You can even explain why the other "helpful" comments are not helpful.  There were times when what folks said to me increased my suicidality and led to more attempts.

I have talk about this problem with many suicidal folks and we like the following statements:

How can I support you best?
I will be right over.
I still need you here.

There are probably others but these are my personal three favorites.

What are yours?


 https://www.facebook.com/groups/1539849306274449/?ref=bookmarks

To be right or to be happy?

Because of my ego, I have a strong desire to be right.  All the time.  Don't mess with me.  I am right and I know it.  Right, right, right.  And all the time because I am so damn smart.  And if you don't agree with me and my rightness, that is your problem, and not mine.

Hey!  Where did all my friends go?

This is the price I pay for being right and digging my heels in.  I have huge resentments in which I know that I am absolutely right about whatever the issue is and when this happens, my serenity is shot. Gone.

There is that saying, "The older I get, the less I know."  I find this to be true but it greatly interfered with my need to be right.  I also have found that I am not as likeable as I thought I was and this was shocking to me when I first figured it out a couple of years ago. 

What is this?  I am not right and not everyone likes me?  Whoa.  Time to look at my arrogance and ego.  I hate doing that.  I hate reality sometimes but if I want to be happy, I must live in reality.  I heard at a meeting "I am an immigrant to reality" and I was stunned by the truth and power of that for myself.

I am pretty darn happy right now so being right is not high on my priority list.  I still have resentments toward some folks who rejected me while I was depressed and suicidal but I also understand that I was impossible to be around.  It is hard for most folks to understand that anger and rage come with depression and suicidality.  Folks are used to thinking it as the person who is very sad and acts like it.  I had a great many of those times as well.  There were times when I was agoraphobic and catatonic.  I had long period of times like that.  I was pure 100% burrito during those times.

How did I begin to experience immersion in reality.  I read many books by Pema Chodron, an American Buddhist nun.  Buddhists know that we will do anything to avoid reality and that is the root of our suffering.  This is true.  I don't like it but it is true.

It was helpful that Alcoholics Anonymous requires me to make a list of my character defects, including a column that reads "My Part In It".  I completely missed that the first time around and my sponsor had to send me home to write that in.  My denial about being a victim, poor little me and that is was every one's fault but mine, began to open up.  That was an emotional experience that bubbled around in me for weeks.

I like reality now.  I would much rather be here than where I was before.  Even though shitty things happen and I still run into shitty people, I still like reality.

Bye, universe.  Lily blesses me and thus, she blesses you.  XXOO

Recovering from this darn depression.

Hello universe.

This has been hard getting better from this.  I was thinking about the fact that it took over two years for my treatment team to find a place who really knew what they were doing.  The six months I spent at Timberline Knolls in Lemond, IL saved my life.  It started me getting better.  I had been treading water and often almost drowning until then.  I was two years into mental illness and relapse until my shrink sent me to TK. 

Up until then, I went to two IOPs, both of whom said they could treat my suicidality yet that turned out not to be true.  What I got instead was cookie cutter addictions treatment which doesn't have the best outcomes in the best of situations.  (Sorry, addictions folks, but true).

The most curative factor about TK was they believe everything I said.  They believed that people said cruel things to me about my suicide attempts, they believed that most people didn't believe me and said I was lying.  Even though I was in a great deal of denial myself about many things, I felt safe there and didn't want to leave after 6 months.  I did 3 months of PHP there and commuted from Oak Park to do that.

It has been over 4 years since my last attempt and I finally gave up because it is too darn hard to kill ourselves.  We are wired to survive, until our times comes and we die our natural death.  My shrink did the Happy Dance when I told him that I was giving up on suicide.

It has still taken all this time to stop being a burrito on a daily basis, to invite Opposite Girl into my head to kick me out of bed, to take showers and brush my teeth at least every other day instead of never.  It is hard work, most of it not involving therapists or medications.  I have been going to AA and Emotions Anonymous regularly for the past 3 years (AA) and one year (EA).  I love the human beings I have met who have allowed me to become friends with them.  I had to learn how to be a good friend all over again.  I had to learn how to speak to people, learn how to sleep normally, and clean my apartment.  I just woke up from a nap.  I still do that.

I have had to let go of my professions as therapist, professor and trainer.  Too much time has gone by when I have done these things.  Honestly, I haven't worked much at all these last three years and I am grateful to my Teachers Pension and Social Security Retirement for allowing me to lead this quiet frugal and serene life.

I have to chair the EA meeting tonight and since it is the first Tuesday in the 7th month, we will read from the 7th Step.  "Humbly asked him/her to remove our shortcomings."  This step is all about humility for me, which I didn't have most of these years.  I was so egotistical, arrogant and I was positive it was all your fault, and not mine.  While I did not want to become mentally ill, it took a while in this recovery to realize how much choice I still had in the outcomes of my life.  I wasn't too sure how much I liked that being that everything was all your fault, and not mine.  Humility has come slowly and in piecemeal.  I have learned to let go of my resentments.  Not all, but most.

I have also learned that I would rather be happy than right.

Peace out.

More natural anti-depressants

Hello universe.  Listening to Lou Reed and grooving.

I cannot get enough of natural anti-depressants and I hope some of my ideas might help you out.  If you have any ideas for me, please let me know!  I am always open to adding more to my list.

Trees.  Can't say enough good things about trees.  Research in Japan showed that when they took depressed folks into a forest and just meandered, their mood was much better when they went home.  The sense of well-being lasted so perhaps a walk in the forest every day would be a great idea.  I don't have one close to me but I can hop on my bike and be in one in about 30 minutes.

What I do instead.  I live on a beautiful block in Oak Park, IL with lots of mature trees.  I bring a blanket outside and lie down, looking up at the leaves.  I remember doing this when I was little and I loved it back then as well.  Sometimes I take a nap.  Sometimes, my very good friend Greta joins me and we catch up on each others' lives.  We talk to folks who are walking by, especially if they have a cute dog we can meet.  Four young kids live underneath us so they come out to entertain us.  If they bring a soccer ball out, Greta is known to jump in and make womens' soccer look good.

Very good yummy coffee makes me happy.

My friend Mirasol makes me giggle so I need to call her more often.  Good belly laughs are as good as any orgasm.

Drawing and making things, which I  give out as gifts.  I love doing this.

I like folding clothes.

Eating high quality yummy food at the table with a nice napkins.  No distractions.

Playing with my cat, Bug.

Going to the local animal shelter and petting all the cats they have in the Adult Cat section.  You can pet their cats for hours in there.

Dancing.  I am very heavy and out of shape right now but I have a Fit Bit.  I am trying to get my steps in and not doing a very good job so I dance at home.  Just finished a while ago and I am sweating.

Being with friends who love me and make me laugh.

More tomorrow.  I have written some down and have to find them!  I am unorganized.

Peace out.

Jacque

Where is my fucking village?

Hello universe.

It is Monday morning, and I just read an obit about Anthony Bourdain, where I learned he had hung himself.  They did not release this information right away, most likely because Kate Spade had just hung herself 5 days earlier.

There was a review of a book titled The Inner Level:  How More Equal Societies Reduce Stress, Restore Sanity and Improve Everyone's Well-being by Richard Wilkinson and Kate Pickett.  The review starts out by stating that 45,000 Americans died by suicide in 2016, and in that same year, 42,000 Americans died from opioid overdoses.  87,000 Americans died by their own hand in the year 2016. This is not OK. It makes me sad while wondering what is going to be done about this.  While the opioid crisis still gets media attention, suicide does not.  Already people are forgetting about Anthony Bourdain and Kate Spade, though not their families or friends.

The opiate overdoses may likely be intended suicides that get counted as drug overdoses when the coroner cannot find a note or witnesses to say that the overdose was intentional. It is then reported as accidental overdose.  Yet death is death, and the person's void is felt acutely by those left behind.  Completed suicide affects 6-15 people afterwards, and some of them may attempt suicide themselves.  Grief does not know the difference between hanging one's self and accidental overdose.  Grief is acute, and this acuity is exacerbated by the question "Could I have done something to prevent my loved one's death?"

The authors use the term "relative status" to describe how we ourselves perceive our place in our culture, our tribe and our world.  Am I important and worthwhile?  Would people miss me if I were no longer here?  Do I have people in my life that I can rely on for support and compassion? This is the difference between relative status and income status.  Anthony and Kate had enough money yet they were driven people who fought hard to get to where they wear.  When I heard about Anthony's death, I immediately thought about how all the travel impacted him and his loved ones.  While international travel sounds sexy, it is wearing and overwhelming and the time changes mess us up in a terrible way.

I had my first anxiety attack while doing some training in the UK.  I was staying with a friend, and all of a sudden, I had this feeling that the sky had opened up and a crack occurred.  This was just a feeling and not an image.  Right after that, I experienced intense fear and anxiety and began crying uncontrollably.  I could not stop.  The fear was constant and I thought "What am I doing over here when I should be at home with my husband and children and friends?"  Yet, this is what I thought I wanted: success in my career and international travel.  Something I could brag about, though bragging in such a subtle way that I wouldn't look too trashy.

Imposter anxiety.  That is what I had and I still have it to this day though it doesn't run my life.  After that anxiety attack in England, I began to experience 6 years of profound mental illness in which I attempted to end my life many times.  As an "expert" suicide attempter, I can tell you that we research around for the most lethal methods.  I knew hanging was kinda sorta a "sure thing" yet I am such a weenie that I could not bring myself to try that method of violent death.  Same for using a gun. I continued to overdose on anti-depressants. I came close a couple of times but woke up the next morning with...myself.

This imposter anxiety is powerful for Americans.  We want to look good, be perceived as competent and perhaps powerful.  Yet underneath, all of us wonder what folks would do if they  were discover what we are really like. They might run away from us as quickly as they can.  Many, if not most, of my peeps left me.  This is what happens to the suicide attempt survivor.  People in our culture cannot tolerate the thought of death, and many of us have magical thinking that hopes we actually won't die at all.  The fountain of youth?  Find it.  The pill that gives us longevity?  Give it to me so I can take it. But death is death, and being final, we don't like it much at all.

I often said I was at the pinnacle of my career when I became mentally ill and that was true.  I paid a huge price for that, in that my husband at the time and my kids suffered from me being gone all the time.  I became unhappy and would kick the metaphorical dog whenever I could.  I became even more arrogant as my perceived notion of my own self-importance became inflated.  When that anxiety attack occurred, it was the beginning of my long fall down off my self-imposed pedestal.  That does not feel good.  I began to question my own place in the world and my life imploded.  The recession, losing my home to eviction, taking care of a beloved friend as she died slowly from ALS, My husband asked for and got a divorce.  The nosedive was steep and painful.  When they describe the psychic pain of being suicidal, there is such despair, anguish and hopelessness.  "I want my life back!" I used to say.  But now I can see that my life got my to the anxiety attack and my mental illness.

Did Anthony and Kate experience imposter anxiety?  Probably.  Were they worn down by the successes and failures of their lives?  Probably.  I don't know.  I guess that they were.

I am sad and profoundly worried.  To lose 87,000 of us American every year is tragic.  I am not sure
what can be done about it. I t is a reflection of our imposter anxiety, our lack of relative status, and inequality of money in the US.  So many of us have less money than we did 15 years ago.  When I hear the news saying that the economy is healthy, I say "Doesn't feel healthy to me."  I had a friend who once described to me a research project she was participating in that focused on "..it takes a village to raise a child."  She was frustrated by this and said to me "Where is my fucking village?"

Where is my fucking village?  I believe Kate and Anthony wondered where their fucking villages were as well. 

Hello universe.

It has been a while since I have written anything in here.  I finally did my first training on how to work with suicidal folks and it went well.  I got feedback from the trainees and have some ideas on how to tighten things up and give them more resources to work with.

I still have not found any services for suicidal folks, though I do like the Living Room model as well as Respite Homes.  I wonder how a Living Room would do here in Oak Park where I live.  Probably quite well.  They just released research showing that suicide has increased by 175% in the last few years.  It is up among all age groups but especially among young folks.

A Living Room is a drop in center for crisis that is an alternative to hospitalization.  They are open 7 days a week from noon to 10 pm.  You are assessed briefly when you get there by a clinician but are paired with a Peer Counselor with Lived Experience.  There is no doubt in my mind that suicidal folks connect with other suicide attempt survivors.  We can lend them some of our hope, and we can be optimistic for them. 

Back to the Living Room, the Peer Counselor follows up with you the next day and I think they can have continued contact with you.  All free.  I just love free stuff, don't you?

I also want to share a book that I found that I think is the best book on surviving suicide I have found.  It was written back in 1991 by David Conroy.  The title is something like Out of the Nightmare:  Surviving Suicide and Depression.  So far, I am the only person I know that has read it.  It is very good, well written and he posits that attempt survivors develop PTSD in response to the stigma of suicide, along with contact with EMTs, police, etc.  I can attest to the trauma of all this.  I never experienced anything like this until I became depressed, mentally ill and made many many attempts to end my life.  To this day, most people who know me do not believe I made these attempts and used lethal enough methods to kill myself.  I know now that killing yourself is hard.  We are wired to survive, not die.

Since we have so many guns here in the US, we have lost 40,000 per year due to suicide.  Most of these were people who shot themselves.  Traditionally, men use guns to kill themselves but the number of women using guns in rising.  I keep meaning to reach out to the young people at Parkland High School who are doing so much work for gun control so I need to follow up.  Canada does not have nearly the suicide rate we do (I think they had 4,000 completed suicides in 2017) and they have good gun control.

There are people out there to save.  No one has to die from suicide yet if their psychic pain is high and their support/resources are low, people will often attempt suicide.  They lose hope, they are isolated, they are suffering and we are responsible for reaching our hand out to them.  We human beings need each other.

Peace out and I sure do love you all.

Jacque