Hi, my name is Theodora, and I have attempted suicide twice and deal with chronic passive suicidal ideation.
Now that I am a therapist, I debate whether/how much I want to speak up about this kind of stuff, but I do know that not only does it help people, but humanizes me as a therapist.
And I think saying the actual words, when you can, is incredibly important to be direct, rather than obsequiously dancing around them with euphemisms. It is literal life and death here. I truly cannot say enough amazing things about my therapist, who is annoyingly good at her job and incredibly perceptive. And yet, because I used the phrase “dark thoughts,” it took a year before she realized I meant suicidal ideation.
I have felt shame about having these thoughts. My rational brain knows that I have a pretty great life, so many people have it much worse than me, why should I want to kill myself? Courtney Tracy, The Truth Doctor on social media, has a great post up today with a lot of the suicide risk factors, but some of them are genetic (#intergenerationaltrauma! fun), and “fun” fact: adoptees are FOUR TIMES more likely to attempt suicide than non-adoptees.
Until I felt these thoughts myself, I could not begin to compute how your brain could turn on you like that. But in the spring of 2017, when it became clear that my mom was dying, I had no desire to live in a world where she did not. I did not want to watch her die. I wanted to escape first. (She won ¯\_(ツ)_/¯) Then, 2017 continued to be a massive shit storm for me and I didn’t see a way out. I didn’t see my life ever getting better, me clawing my way out of that rubble.
What someone who has attempted suicide and dealt with chronic suicidal ideation wants you to know.
It becomes a weird kind of coping mechanism, feeling like you have an “escape.” And thinking about escaping everything, in some ways, is “easier” (picture me making MASSIVE air quotes there) than feeling the feelings that are underneath.
I have a card from a Gabby Bernstein deck that says “I give myself permission to feel whatever feelings live below the triggers” that I keep on my desk as a reminder.
The neural pathways that lead to my suicidal thoughts have been tread over so many times that they can shoot right to crisis over the smallest things—FOMO, fear of missing a work deadline. THINGS THAT ARE OBVIOUSLY NOT LIFE OR DEATH. But that trigger that deep rejection wound because my brain learned that thinking of “escape” was the best way to deal.
My therapist and I work on trying to interrupt those thought patterns—which, if not caught, spiral into everything I think is wrong in my life and will never get better. (She calls this me “going in search of” things that are wrong, to support my thinking.)
She’s told me to imagine a stop sign—which I imagine as a stop sign at a fork in the road, reminding me to take the other road. She asks me “do you really want to kill yourself because of ___?” Direct, but it works. And again, this is life or death, so there’s no reason not to be direct. It’s not going to *put* suicidal thoughts into someone’s brain.
I know what I *can* control: avoiding situations I *know* will trigger me, throwing up that mental stop sign when I can, telling someone what I’m feeling. And that’s telling them the emotions, not just about the ideation. Usually when I get the words out, I realize things aren’t quite as bleak as they are in my little brain. (My dear friend Kate likes to remind me I’m not quite as much of a hot mess as I think I am!)
Limiting substance use is also key for me—having alcohol when I’m feeling this way can sometimes be akin to throwing gasoline on a fire…and even if I’m not already feeling that way, it can sometimes be kindling for these thoughts.
I am lucky to have found a treatment that works—ketamine. I have written about ketamine a lot, both about my personal experience and writing on the science behind it. One of the best things about ketamine is that it has been shown to reduce suicidal ideation nearly immediately.
Those neural pathways I mentioned earlier? One of the theories is that ketamine helps, essentially, redirect and repair them. Ketamine increases neuroplasticity, which helps us make changes that essentially recode the brain. I digress (because I’m currently really really interested in neuroscience and could talk about it all day right now), but I’m really lucky to have found a treatment that works so well for me.
Also really lucky that I *can* access it, because it’s not cheap…and that aspect of mental healthcare is incredibly unfair, that I can get this life-saving treatment because I can afford it, but someone else who can’t afford it won’t be able to get it.
I’ve also had two major turning points recently:
I had a drowning scare in the ocean this summer, and as I fought to literally get my ahead above water…I realized that I wanted to get my ahead above the water. To live.
I also, in that moment my life was truly flashing before my eyes, saw my mom saying “no Theodora, it’s too soon to come here.” Kate had said to me a few weeks earlier “you know, Carol would be REALLY mad if you killed yourself.” TOUCHE.
That whisper still often lingers, but it speaks up less often these days and goes away more quickly.
If you are feeling this way, you are not alone. (And there’s some resources at the end of this post.)
xo,
Theodora
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I’m really glad you’re here. ⭐️