July 7, 2017

1:34am 

It's Friday (well, technically as I write this, it's very very early Saturday morning) and another week has ended. I'm sitting here with this new blog and trying to think. My emotions and thoughts have been in such a whirl and sometimes freefall all week long. The suicidal thoughts and urges which have been plaguing me have gone for the most part, but I'd be lying if I said that they were totally gone. To be honest, I'm still feeling quite vulnerable and there's a piece of me that feels scared too. I've had some sleep and a shower and have eaten a bit more normally today. Usually I'd take comfort in those things. I'd feel like they were good signs of clearer skies and moving forward, but I can feel in my mind a kind of heaviness that has nothing to do with the lateness of the hour or the fact that I'm sitting her in my living room alone with everyone else asleep. I have been feeling it all day long.

I've laughed today and smiled genuine smiles today. I've felt even a tiny bit less irritable. That last one may be in large part to do with the fact that the girls seemed to get on better with each other today and not get on each other's nerves so much. I've even made love to Eric this afternoon while the girls were watching something on Netflix and playing. You would think that all of these things would cause me to feel optimistic and normally, you'd be right. I just don't feel that at all. I feel a sense of dread that this is only the calm before the storm.

Wednesday was a day from hell and I experienced suicidal thoughts and urges so strong that I felt compelled to act on them. It took every coping skill I possess and some help from my guardian angel (and, I think Drake's) to help me stay safe. I felt so detached and dissociated from life around me, from people, and even from myself to a certain degree. It's not the worst it's ever been, but it was the worst it's been in a long long time. I've said before that when I have several days of struggling with suicidal thoughts that it's like being sick with a really high fever. You feel sort of delirious at times with the emotional pain and you're constantly exhausted no matter how much sleep you get. Then there's usually a point at which the fever spikes really high and then breaks. When that happens, sleep, food, showers, sex, and affection from loved ones all start to help and you can tell that they're helping. You feel a definite sense of relief from the onslaught coupled with a kind of physical and emotional weakness which is helped with self-care, time spent in therapy, and the passage of a couple of days.

I spent time with both Dr. Dann and Drake on Thursday and I spent time on my own journalling about my thoughts. I showered on Wedenesday night. I slept late today. And yet, there is still this nagging and persistent darkness that won't let me go. It feels quieter in my mind, but the "spinning" that Drake and I discussed on Thursday is still in motion. When I struggle with a severely depressed mood and intense suicidal ideation, one of the things I've noticed is that I begin to feel very quiet and withdrawn. I stop talking as much to the people around me, stop engaging with friends online, and stop engaging at all online (no liking or commenting on Facebook or Twitter or anything). It is as if I cease to exist to those who know me totally online or most online (like my board friends). I will usually read things that others post, but often only within my personal newsfeed rather than going to group pages. It's not that I'm trying to withdraw, but I just don't feel like engaging. I know there is a part of me too that feels like I'm doing people a favour because I'm suicidally depressed. What I mean is that I feel like a) I'm horrible company to be around when I get like this and b) if this period of suicidal ideation results in my death, then it's best to just fade away before the fact. I know that sounds morbid, but hell, if you're contemplating suicide, you're at a pretty morbid place already.

So, I'm in pretty active withdrawal right now. I'm trying not to be, but I just don't have the energy or wherewithal to do much more than read. And I'm scared. I'm scared that this isn't the end of this period of so much darkness. It feels very much like it's still going and the heartbeat of whatever causes this in my brain is very strong, if quieter. To be honest, although I got out today by myself (to pick up a pizza for dinner at Papa John's), there was a voice in my head that questioned whether or not it was safe to do that. I don't feel so safe alone. And I'm alone right now -- well, sort of alone. Eric and the girls are just upstairs and I'm in my nightgown, so I'm not going anywhere. That doesn't mean I'm totally safe though. There is a drawer of sharp things and a cabinet full of medicine that would handily accomplish the task if things got to that place. I'm not at that place, but the fact that those things are jumping readily into my brain tells me that something isn't right. The fact that a part of my brain is still, as Drake said Thursday, "entertaining plans" is definitely a big red flag.

We will see Drake tomorrow for marital counselling. I have a feeling it may be a rather intense session. A part of me is kinda hoping he doesn't have someone immediately after us because we could use a little extra time to really process this week. Last week in marital was mostly me talking. Maybe I'll just shut up this week and let Eric do most of the talking. It only seems fair and to be honest, as quiet as I'm feeling, maybe it's for the best. We're planning to go to confession tomorrow afternoon and the Saturday vigil Mass immediately afterward. If it works out well (and I don't see why it wouldn't), we are going to make this a weekly thing.

I'd like to say that I'm hopeful that perhaps Fr. Bean will consent to see me this coming week, but honestly, I'm not hopeful about that at all. I don't understand why he's been silent after I've emailed him twice asking to meet. I'm wondering if he has been sick or busy or otherwise away from his computer (which would explain his not replying since he doesn't have a smartphone or other means of emailing). There is a part of me which, to be honest, is wondering if he's mad at me for some reason. I don't think that he would do the whole silent thing, but it's been almost a month since I sent that email in D.C. I just don't know what to think. To be honest, it's really been eating at me inside. I think that whole thing he did where he was faking being frustrated and angry with me still has me a bit shaken. I believe him when he says that he didn't mean any of it, but there is a voice in my head that says, "you know, that was super convincing and often when someone is acting and it comes across that way, there's at least a little grain of truth underneath all of that." I wonder if he thinks I'm too needy or is frustrated that with all of the help he's given me that I keep having these slides backward into difficult times. At the same time, I feel like that's not really his character either. I guess I've just feel like there have been too many people in my life who didn't believe in me, didn't stay the course with me, or who judged me for things that were out of my control that I have difficulty trusting that he won't be the same way. To be honest, I'm kind of afraid he's going to say, "You know I love you Val, but I don't think any of this is really helping you and that it's a waste of your time and mine too. I think we need to stop meeting because I'm not seeing any positive changes in your spiritual life or in your mental health either." Again, the part of me that is rooted in reality knows he's not flaky, but the super crazy anxious nervous part of me that is afraid to lose his help keeps banging against my brain and screaming that my "reality" is skewed and that all the anxious thoughts I'm having about all of this are the true reality.

For now, I guess I need to go to bed because sitting here spinning about this isn't helping. I fucking hate this illness. It scares me so much and makes my life so hard nearly all the time. I fucking hate it. I hate it so fucking much. I hate the fact that after writing all of this, instead of feeling better, I am feeling a bit worse. I hate that right now as I type these words there are thoughts that aren't at the back of my brain and are at the forefront. They aren't strong, but they are there and they are a temptation. It would be so very easy to fall.