Writing the copious reams I did about the incident with the police has had an effect on me. The anger is becoming manageable. I haven't been blindsided so much by the memories and the anxiety they trigger.
The one thought that continues to roll around in my head, the big funny is this: For all of the times I was truly, precipitously close to killing myself, how frustrating it is that I was a subjected to a police intervention at a time when I was not even remotely close to killing myself.
How perceptive those idiots are. Where were they when I was sitting on the couch leafing through the suicide instruction manual with great little hangman graphic on the cover?
2 comments:
I am happy to hear the writing is helping. I know from a lot of experience the only thing that has kept what ever plan I had at the time from coming into play is the fact I got lost in writing about where I was at the time. Not nearly as good as having someone sit, listen and understand, but then again I haven't met anyone besides others who are (not have been) suicidal who understand at all.
I am lucky, the only time I ever got put in observation was when I let slip during a session with my psychologist that I'd attempted earlier that week. After of course I'd signed saying I wouldn't.
*** Previous post deleted because I have the English aptitude of a 4th grader and forgot to use spell check. ***
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