Saturday, March 13, 2010

People are thinking

After glancing at my own blog today, I realized why I had confused people with my last post about quitting therapy. I'd forgotten that I'd pretty much written the same thing back on February 15th. Truth is, I never actually quit in February. Every week for the last two months I left her office telling her I'd never be back, but always returned. That sense of obligation, the inability to say no, kept me going back even though I didn't want to.

Even though I still don't have ownership of the word no and still feel the overwhelming sense of obligation, I'm going to fight the urge to show up on Monday. I know she can't help me. I know she knows she can't help me, so what would be the point of going back?


One of the voices in my head keeps shouting out all those one-liners about depression and suicide..."a disease like any other", "a permanent solution to a temporary problem", "treatment works", etc. All the things I know other people are thinking when I tell them I'm giving up the fight. I think it's trying to fuel my guilt, but all it's really doing is fueling my anger.


A disease like any other? If I were terminally ill with cancer, I'd be receiving compassionate hospice support to make me as comfortable as possible in my final days. Instead I not only have to endure and suffer through the agonizing emotional pain alone, but I'm being made to feel guilty that I'm not strong enough to fight this disease any longer. Would anyone dare tell a cancer patient they weren't fighting hard enough??


A permanent solution to a temporary problem? I've been battling this demon for more than 30 years! For ¾ ths of my life this thing has been haunting me, kicking my ass....how is that temporary?


Treatment works? What treatment? I've pretty much tried them all, sans a lobotomy, and NOTHING HAS WORKED!


I did tell my daughter on Wednesday that I had quit therapy and that next week I will most likely be stopping the meds too. Given my luck with therapists (or rather lack thereof), I wanted her to hear it from me first, rather than from her own therapist. The woman shouldn't be discussing me or my treatment with my daughter, but my experience has been that the things that aren't supposed to be brought up have a mysterious way of being mentioned anyway.


My daughter's reaction was one of silent disapproval, but she doesn't know the whole story yet. I didn't go into details about being terminally ill and lacking all hope. It wasn't the right time for full disclosure. There are too many positive moments coming up for her that she's really looking forward to and I refuse to ruin them for her by telling her I'm going to die. It's too premature to mention that right now.

3 Comments:

Blogger lissyvz said...

would you mind if I used a paragraph of yours

"A disease like any other? If I were terminally ill with cancer, I'd be receiving compassionate hospice support to make me as comfortable as possible in my final days. Instead I not only have to endure and suffer through the agonizing emotional pain alone, but I'm being made to feel guilty that I'm not strong enough to fight this disease any longer. Would anyone dare tell a cancer patient they weren't fighting hard enough??"

to illustrate a point for some loved ones. I don't think I've ever been able to put it so simply as you have there.

lissyvz67@hotmail.com

10:45 PM, March 13, 2010  
Blogger sansanity said...

I keep trying to find words to express something.

the conflict your words make me feel is immense. i know your truth and i won't, can't, deny you it. even in my current ok state I know that it is not fair that you suffer.

and yet the world, hell my world, won't be the same. No guilt trip intended. just wanted you to know that you matter. whatever your decision, whatever the outcome, you matter to me and will continue to.

6:33 PM, March 14, 2010  
Blogger Laura said...

I'm not going to leave any crappy remarks that won't help anyway. I wish I could take your pain away. It's beyond hellish to be stuck in a pit of endless despair and nothing helps. I remember reaching a low low episode a few years back when I felt I just couldn't take it anymore. I worried what it would do to my kids if I offed myself so I decided that I would just consider myself dead but continue to go through the motions of life until eventually my body gave out. I put my mind and my emotions in the grave. Weird, but that's how I survived.

9:49 PM, March 14, 2010  

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