Odd Reactions

Not too long ago, I made a decision to end my life.  It was several months in the making, as it were.  I wrote a note to my best friend, gave him a ring that I wanted him to have as a memory, went home, and took a month’s worth of psych meds.  It wasn’t that I wanted some great pain to end.  It wasn’t that I felt unloved or unwanted.  It was just that I felt it to be my time to go, to use a stupid cliche.  I felt like life was in the past and like I’d accomplished everything I needed to do.  Sometimes, I still catch myself feeling like that.  I hope that will become less in time.

The scary part, ironically, is that I wasn’t scared.  I was completely at peace with my decision.

I talked to the therapist about this yesterday.  Turns out therapists and shrinks take issue with suicide attempts.  I honestly felt sorry for the therapist.  She is very invested in me, and she said she needed a minute just to process the fact that I am alive.  She was angry that I had been lying to her all of these months.  She thought, and incorrectly, that I had been coming to therapy and saying I was fine, even though I was feeling suicidal.  However, I wasn’t always feeling suicidal.  Sometimes I felt great.  The thought was just dancing about in the back of my mind, and, in the midst of a depressive episode that followed a really bad manic episode, it popped in to the front of my mind.

Now, in this day that wasn’t supposed to be, I’m confused.  I was truly prepared to die, and I truly meant for the attempt to work.  Now, I’m not sure what to do with things.  I’m waking up every morning, doing my job, and maintaining a social life to some extent.  All the while, though, I’m wondering what I’m supposed to do with this next bit.  I don’t feel suicidal.  I do, however, feel like the feelings might return at some point.  And that, more than anything else, confuses me.

At this time, I’m safe.  Actually, I think I’m afraid of my suicidal feelings.  I’m afraid of the fact that part of me (in a non DID sense) wishes the attempt had worked.  I’m afraid that the feelings will return, and I’ll become at peace with them again.  I’m also afraid that I won’t regain the steadiness of living in this world I didn’t think I’d see again.  It’s odd, trying to readjust to life after what was a rather serious suicide attempt.  Everything feels different, but nothing at all has changed.

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