A week ago, I left work to find a nasty note on my windshield. It was vulgar and pertained to my parking, which was admittedly not great, but my car was fully within the lines of the parking spot. The suggestion of this note was that I should never have been born and I drove away agreeing with that sentiment. Over the next few days, I increasingly wished I weren’t alive. I wasn’t actively suicidal and I was making no plans to do anything about that wish, but I just couldn’t shake the idea that life is too hard to be worth living.
I am overwhelmed by my new job. I can sometimes acknowledge that I’m only 2.5 weeks into a 6 week training period, and that means I’ve learned quite a lot if I’m already going off and doing many things independently. There are other things I feel I could do, if given the chance to do them without someone hovering or trying to “help”. When I’m down though, I think that the job must be exceedingly simple if they would give it to someone like me, and then when I have trouble with a task I must be extra stupid to not understand such a simple job.
Monday I awoke in the wee hours of the morning and had progressed from “I wish I weren’t alive” to “I wish I were dead”. I stared at the ceiling, thinking about taking a week’s worth of one of my pills. The bottles have been locked up for months, but I keep a weekly pill container out and it had just been refilled. The pill in question could be dangerous if I just took it twice in one day by mistake, so taking seven in one day would be somewhere between extremely dangerous and fatal. I considered waking mom and asking her to lock the pills up right then, but didn’t want to face her wrath when she was awakened in the middle of the night. So I forced myself back to bed and eventually fell asleep.
I had an appointment with Sadie Monday after work, and she made me sign another safety contract and agree to have mom lock up those pills. I didn’t get to see mom at all that day, so they ended up not being locked up until Tuesday morning. This was okay, as I was feeling much safer at that point. Then I went to work on Tuesday.
I’m not sure what aspect of the job I’m finding so stressful, but I spend all day wishing the day would be over. I told Sadie I’m lazy and don’t want to work, but she insisted I am not a lazy person. Perhaps it’s just that I dread asking questions and feeling stupid for not knowing things, even if I couldn’t possibly have known. For whatever reason, I keep thinking that if I were dead I wouldn’t have to deal with work anymore.
Tuesday I spent the day pondering a suicide method to use at work. Then I came up with one for home that cannot possibly be locked up. I was sufficiently alarmed that I seriously considered going to speak with the on-call therapist. I don’t know that there was any real risk of me harming myself, but maybe I could sort out some work-related thoughts and come up with a plan to resolve the issues I’m having. By the end of work, I had decided to just go home. I had an appointment with Brent the next morning, and was waiting to see if Sadie would have a cancellation that day, so I decided I could hold out another day.
When I went to my appointment with Brent, the notes I gave him mentioned suicidal thoughts. He asked if I had a plan. I told him I had some ideas and detailed the two rather unusual methods I had come up with. However, he asked if I was feeling like harming myself right at that moment (apparently the previous day wasn’t immediate enough) and I said no. He didn’t even ask me to sign another safety contract, which surprised me. The appointment didn’t accomplish anything, other than to force me to radically accept that he cannot medicate away my life stress.
Sadie didn’t end up having any cancellations and I had forgotten she’d be out of the office the next two days. She suggested talking to Sierra, and Sierra is booked solid for today and out of the office tomorrow. So Sierra suggested Nadia. At this point I’m kind of giving up on the idea of talking these work issues over with someone, but I asked if she could contact Nadia on my behalf since I don’t have her e-mail address. I know I technically could call, but I think I’m not committed enough to the idea to make myself use a phone.
So how am I right this moment? Still pondering those suicide methods, but not feeling like I need to use either of them. I’ll know if I start being at risk, and have promised both Sadie and Brent that I’ll make use of the on-call therapist if that happens.