One of the many difficult topics that came up in marriage counseling today was what it’s like for my husband when I get high anxiety numbers…and, in particular, how it is for him when I get suicidal.
He actually failed to answer the question. Instead he talked about how he gets suicidal sometimes too but then thinks about how he doesn’t want his daughter to grow up without him. The difference between my suicidal thoughts and his are that mine tell me that my daughter would be so much better off without me; they tell me that my daughter deserves a mommy who isn’t this fucked up.
When I’m suicidal (like I was for most of the last two weeks), I struggle to control my anxiety and emotions. I can’t see anything positive in life. Everything becomes meaningless. Today my marriage shrink asked me what my husband could do or what I wanted from him during those times. I responded with “I don’t know.” I respond this way a lot in therapy when I don’t want to talk about something, but today I meant it.
I don’t know what anyone can do to help me feel better when I’m suicidal. Fuck! I can’t even make myself feel better when things are that bad. I literally just need space. And it’s hard because I get scared to be alone during those times…because when I’m alone, there’s freedom to do whatever runs through my mind. But at the same time, I can’t handle the noise and chaos in life. I need space. I need time to process and grieve and work through it. And then, slowly but surely, I start to crawl out of the hole.
This week, I thought I was better. I thought I was out of the hole and on my way to happiness. But I think really I’m in this in-between phase where I’m almost out of the hole but not all the way out yet. And when tough stuff comes up, I fall back into the hole. Between last night and today, I’m definitely back in the hole.
It’s a yoga nidra and essential oils kind of night. Hopefully tomorrow will be less stressful – physically, mentally, and emotionally.