Suicide Dreams

I had a dream last night that I was going away and needed to take a plane. I needed my birth certificate to get on the plane. As I was packing to go I could not find it, and then I finally found it in my shirt pocket.

I went to the airport and each gate was accessed via a flight of stairs. I had to get to gate I5. I started to climb, but lost my birth certificate over and over again. Each time I found it again.

Suddenly I realized that the letters and numbers in the stairwell that was headed towards the airplane gates were not going anywhere in the direction of I5 and I was at the wrong terminal.

I started running down the stairs and I found my little sisters birth certificate in the corner of one of the stairwell's landings, but all it said was her name....no date of birth, place of birth, no other information at all. I felt confused and sad.

I had 15 minutes to board the plane as I arrived at the shuttle service station, but the driver said he would only take families with a mom, a dad and two kids, so I had no way to get to the other terminal. Besides, I suddenly realized I lost my birth certificate again. I knew I would never catch that plane.

Meanings:???

I have been increasingly suicidal. My sister phoned my husband two days ago and said she was really upset and worried about me and would never get over me killing myself. That when Mom was alive she called her everyday, just to chat and since Mom died I have taken over that role and she feels I am the only person she can talk to openly.

• My losing my birth certificate is signifying I do not exist, I am gone, dead, or I never existed.
• my finding my sister's birth certificate with no birth date is saying, given, in her eyes, I have become a surrogate for Mom, she would not exist without me. (figuratively of course), thus she has no birth date/place etc..
• The driver saying he would take only a family of four would be my Mom, my Dad and my two sisters...I'm not there.
• or...there is no way for me to be there, both because my parents divorced, so we were not a mom/dad family, but also because my Mom is dead...so getting a ride is an impossibility.
• Last week in my session I told Dr. X. I was the one person on a plane that was not afraid of crashing. In fact I prayed for my planes to crash. The fact that I would miss the plane in my dream was another missed opportunity to leave this world.
• All the lost identification could be the literal representation of the loss of identity that I feel during this, and all my depressive episodes...maybe even when I am well. I never have a sense of knowing my self. I always feel disconnected from my self.

I must frustrate the hell out of my pdoc

Remembered snippets of my conversation in my session today...may not be entirely accurate, but I'm trying to clearly recall

Me: I feel tormented. All I can think about is suicide. I'm not sleeping and I am tired all the time. I get up at 9-9:30 and then am back in bed at noon. I want to die.

Dr. X.: are your thoughts conscious thoughts?

Me: No they feel intrusive, like they won't go away, like they are pushing me.

Dr. X.: What is the nature of your thoughts?

Me: I keep thinking over and over if I could overdose on the meds I have at home. I keep looking up on the Internet how to die, how much of each medication I need to ensure death (I have quite a bit). The last thing I want is to survive and be physically and mentally ill/hurt. I keep thinking I could take all my pills and drown myself as I become unconscious...just to be sure.

Dr. X: There is always a hospital stay. (he has mentioned this every week for at least the past 6 weeks)

Me: ...but I have committed to so many things and I have so many things I need to do. I cannot go into the hospital.

Dr. X.: You do not have to do the things you committed to. It would be best for you to take care of yourself first. The hospital seemed to help you last time.

Me: ...You don't know me (him...with a look of surprise? or maybe a bit stunned or hurt that I said that)...when I commit it is almost impossible to not do the thing.

Me: ...My sister and brother-in-law are coming on the 11th for 4 days and my sister and her family are coming on the 12th for a day and night. My house is a disaster, disgusting, messy, dirty. I have to clean it, but I can barely move.

Dr.X.: You do not have to clean your house for your visiting relatives

Me: I DO have to clean my house. It's disgusting. Besides people will judge me for those sorts of things.

Dr. X.: People will judge you for all sorts of things, maybe it is important to let things go and allow the judgement and maybe allow your embarrassment to happen. (to learn I can't be embarrassed to death)

We made a list of all my commitments and went through each one and he tried to get me to see the world wouldn't end if I "uncommitted" to any of them.

We talked about the value of a hospital stay, but I know I cannot escape what I have said I will do. Maybe that is my way of pushing myself into the future? My way of ensuring I remain...I feel obligated? Who knows. All I know is I think I can hang on for a couple months and I am not committing to anything beyond that. Maybe then I can let myself get the help I need.

Anyways...it ended with him encouraging me to bring my old meds into our next session so he could dispose of them and I would no longer have them tormenting me with a means to an end.

A Fine Line

(In retrospect)
Is there a fine line between the moment someone decides their life is worth living and their life is worthless and they need to die? I think I'm standing on that line right now and I've been trying to reach out for help, but I am maybe being to subtle and people are missing my crying out.

I have maybe 3-4 hours every couple days, or when I am asleep, when I'm distracted enough to stop thinking about suicide. I wake up around 9:30, after laying in bed for an hour trying to get myself up. Then by noon I crawl back into bed and stay there awake and tormented by thoughts of how I could kill myself and not make a mistake. All I want is to sleep permenantly. For me, worse than this hell would be this hell, where I was physically incapacitated too because of some mistake I made in trying to die.

In the afternoon I lay there for 2-4 hours, get up, eat/or not - can't cook, or clean, or do anything except what I have committed to others, then I'm in bed usually by 9 again. What kind of life is this. I don't think it is one worth living and I see no end to this incapacitating depression. Nothing helps it.

I've told my husband I'm thinking of suicide all the time. I told my sisters...everyone says don't do that to us, but I need more help, or support, or something. I don't even know what...I just need help and I'm not one to take myself to the hospital, or call my pdoc...so I cry, and I cry and all I want is a way out.

Just when you think you are headed in the right direction

I do not even know where to begin. A few months ago I took a big leap and began volunteering at an art Clubhouse for people with severe and persistent mental illnesses. I have been a member there for a few years and have taken classes, but then an assistant instructor position came up for a class so I decided, despite STILL being severely depressed, to apply.

The application process was stressful. I needed a resume and had to go in for an interview, but it was also good , because I now have a resume. I got the position and am in the middle of co-teaching my second class. Since then I have begun helping in another class and, because it is a member run studio, attending instructors meeting and studio monthly meetings.
Last Sunday I began volunteering for my city's Shakespeare festival too.

Now, for the last four or 5 weeks I have been so depressed I feel like I'm hanging on by an itsy, bitsy thread. I feel like commiting suicide everyday. I am so overwhelmed with everything I have commited to. On top of that my Grandma passed away a few weeks ago and my dog (who was my mom's until my mom passed away 1.5 yrs ago) is really sick with cancer (lung cancer and 3 other types of tumours...one of which became so large it broke open and every day 2-3 time a day I need to disinfect, medicate and wrap the tumour...I think I feel even more sad because he remind me of my Mom so much...I AM SO STRESSED AND DEPRESSED.

I started all the volunteer work because my pdoc and I had been in long discussions about my creating a community for myself, somewhere where I felt I belonged. The studio is just that place for me. I have met so many amazing people and the studio is open with materials and space to do your own art (Drawing, painting, pottery...tons of things) and I love the creative aspect of it. Also. the staff (Occupational Therapists, treat us like we are one of them. They have given me so many opportunities outside the teaching...attending different workshops etc.

The problem: I feel so overwhelmed and depressed that I can barely get out of bed. When I do for my volunteering I immediately come home and go back to bed. I have an exceedingly difficult time, if not impossible time cooking. I cannot seem to get motivated to clean the house, wash my hair, get dressed, or do anything that requires any effort. I feel sick I am so fatigued.

Several times in the last 4-5 pdoc sessions my pdoc has talked with me about entering the hospital for ECT (electroconvulsive therapy). I have had it before, so I am not afraid of it, but I am loathe to let down anyone I have made a commitment to. I am afraid the community I have worked so hard to build will think I am unreliable if I go in and say I cannot keep this up.

This is like my two year attempt to leave work to save myself all over again. What is it about me that makes me put everyone else's need above my own?

Basically I have decided to try to get through the summer and go in for ECT in September. I'm not sure how I'm going to keep going until then. WHY CAN"T I FIND A MEDICINE THAT HELPS ME. Why can't my depression just leave me alone. It is and has destroyed my fucking life....I feel so angry about that.