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Stuck in a dark place without a path forward

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Justmehere

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I saw a new specialist this morning about my recent sleep problems. My old sleep med doc retired. My doc sent me to the to sort out sleep meds. They said, “why isn’t anyone taking your depression more seriously?” He kept stating I was clearly struggling and in distress over and over.

Then asked me to describe my trauma so “I will know what I am dealing with” and I replied, “well it was traumatic....” and didn’t state anything more.

Then they proceeded to tell me to look at my phone less as the entire solution.

I told my primary care doc a week ago about how bad things have become, and she giggled and I didn’t. I have a weird knack for doctors laughing when I’m being as serious as I can be.

I was begging for help. I felt so bad. My therapist has no openings for two weeks and at the last session she didn’t seem to get it despite my stating, “I really need you to please hear how suicidal I am.” I told her I have plans, they are detailed. She told me to find reasons to hang on. Like uh. Yeah. Trying. She had to cut that session short because of construction in the hallway that disrupted it and caused me to have difficulty breathing due to all the glue fumes.

I’ve canceled all future appointments with her for now. I canceled a follow up with my primary care doc. There isn’t any point. They can’t help. I’m not even sure why I’m posting this.

I could drag myself to the ER but what is the point. There isn’t anything anyone can do but me. And I’m out of inner fuel.
 
Hi @Justmehere, I too have experienced this and felt that I was 'out of inner fuel'. There is no point in going to ER really because you'll wait for hours for no real result. I haven't had therapy for 3 weeks because I can't afford it, (he was really good aswell). I basically felt I am descending into depressive madness. DON'T DO anything Silly!! I doubt I have anything really clever too say to you, other than your not alone in feeling like this and I'm sorry your feeling like this. Try too love bomb yourself because you deserve it.
 
No, I don’t have one. We have a shortage. Private pay is way beyond what I can afford. ($475 just for an intake?!) My insurance is trying to sent me to the county agency and the county agency refusing to provide care for no known or stated reason. The last time I saw a psychiatrist was inpatient out of state, and I nearly died from serotonin syndrome. I have another condition that makes prescribing medications really difficult so most psychiatrists don’t prescribe anything anyhow. I’m supposed to be sent to UCLA to get further treatment of that conplicating condition but my stupid primary care doc’s office hasn’t done the paperwork despite the appointment being next week.
 
@Justmehere. Just so you know with regarding your docters giggerling at your comments. I sat with a psychiatrist in the uk who said that 'I was a man of many trick's for having a sporadic work history' after they had put me on seraquel and left me with no treatment plan. She also said that I have a problem with professional women, (no just her). I love women and felt like punching her in the face. She is on my fantasy kill list.
 
what is the point

Just because I can’t see the point? Doesn’t mean there isn’t one. It just means I can’t see the f*cker. To date? That’s never lasted. No point today? Fine. There will be one tomorrow, or next week, next year, or in 5 damn minutes. In the meantime I’ve learned that acting as-if? As if I knew what I was doing when I could see the point and set this course? Saves me one whole helluva lot of trouble both now and later on.

Consider it like walking across a dark room. The light was on and I could see the door, and thn the light shut off.

I have a few options.

- I can keep walking in the direction I was walking, trusting that is what I chose being able to see clearly, so it’s still probably the right choice.

- I can strike off in an entirely different direction, because the door feels like it’s that way, instead of this way.

- I can come to a dead stop and wait for the light to turn back on.

- I can start screaming, hoping someone will find me, or turn on the light for me.

- I can throw myself to the floor and sob that the light has turned off.

- I can spin around in circles until I’m so dizzy that I have no idea where the door is, nor do I care, because wheeeeeeee! Up! Down! Left! Right! Whoooooo knooooooows??? f*ck direction man, direction is the man’s way of keeping us down. Enjoy the moment man. It’s like dark. Yeah. Dark. Awesome. Feel the darkness man. It’s like, dark. Whoa. Did I say that already? Double down in the darkness! Hell yeah!

- I can drop to my hands and knees, moving forward slowly, until I can grab a wall, and follow it out. Because walls always lead out, sooner or later.

<cough> I have done ALL of these things. The first and last? Work best.
 
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My therapist called. I had taken a lot of meds to sleep, not as prescribed, and she asked if I was lying down. I told her point blank, I can’t stand.

She wanted me to imagine a box to put in all that is overwhelming me. I don’t know that I feel overwhelmed but just very done. But I tried to do it. Then she wanted me to put parts of me in a box. What does that even mean?! It sounded like some kind of gibberish and I couldn’t make sense of what she was asking me to do. Again, heavily drugged and unable to even stand and she wants me to imagine putting my “overwhelmed and not good enough parts in a box.” I told her I don’t even understand what she is saying. She asked me to then imagine a clone of myself and put that in the box. Which only turned into me picturing myself in a coffin. I’m pretty sure that wasn’t her goal. It felt calming. She asked what I was picturing. I told her. She kept trying to change it. I just kept picturing me dead and trying to not cry because this whole freaking exercise doesn’t make sense. She kept stating to find my adult parts. What the hell?! I want to die and she is telling me to grow up?!

I have no hope the mental health care profession can or will be helpful.

Then she just asked me to describe my dog and all I need to do to care for my dog. Then she had to go.

@Friday, your analogy makes sense. It’s like I’m in the dark and I don’t have anything left to keep walking. I am just hoping the dark maybe will let me sleep tonight and maybe I can come up with a plan afterwards to keep walking through the dark.
 
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I’m not even sure why I’m posting this.
Because dying isn't your first choice and having things stay like they are at the moment doesn't seem like a good plan either? And you were hoping someone might have something useful to say here? (Yah @Friday !)

The specialist sounds like he has some ability to see what's going on. Did he have any useful suggestions? As you well know, being exhausted makes things worse.

I've never gotten the whole "put things in a box" deal. (And my T doesn't bother going there.) What works for me, weird as this may sound, is to give myself the rest of the day, night, what ever, off. And then I do it. Really. I just shut out the rest of the world. forbid feeling guilty for not doing something useful, and play freecell on the computer. Or something equally mindless and distracting.

I hope you get some sleep tonight!
 
The specialist sounds like he has some ability to see what's going on. Did he have any useful suggestions? As you well know, being exhausted makes things worse.
To meditate before bed, go to bed earlier, get better care for my depression and anxiety, and to have my primary care doc do unknown blood work. I had an appointment with the primary doc yesterday as well, and she disagreed and said I needed better meds for sleep and the sleep doc should have handled that, as they usually do, and seemed worthless. I keep telling the primary care doc, “I’m actively suicidal, I have a plan, I need help and I don’t think my mental health is being addressed well enough.” She said to get more sleep and it will be ok.

My primary called in more sleep meds but then insurance didn’t cover them and the script wasn’t signed. I wanted to use the meds too much to die anyhow, so I just left the pharmacy.

I just took all the stuff I had that is remotely sedating, and then my stupid therapist wanted me doing mental gymnastics?! Make a clone of myself and put my clone in a box?! What even is that? I can understand why some therapists suggest putting concerns in a box, but even that wouldn’t have even worked. Now I’m putting clones in boxes? She has gone completely sci-fi.

She kept asking if I’m laying down and I was so freaking clear I’m too exhausted and drugged to stand even if I needed to stand. I really couldn’t. Why didn’t she believe me? It was really upsetting to talk to her to the degree I started self harming right there on the floor while on the phone. I didn’t tell her that. I just started to cry and say “stop, I don’t even understand, this makes no sense at all...”

I remember asking her if anything would get better and she said, “I don’t know.”

I eventually slept, on the floor. I moved up to the couch at some point. I slept for 10 hours and I feel horrible today. I woke up crying and throwing up. This has been happening for 2 months. This was there before the lack of sleep. I have no anxiety or depression meds. Or treatment. I have a therapist who does things that do not help and clearly does not believe me. All my appointments with her are still canceled. There is no point going. All I do is tell her I’m suicidal and she ignores it. Fine. Whatever. She can fill my session times with someone she can actually help.

At the last appointment two weeks ago, I told her I had made an agreement with myself to not die prior to the appointment but to go and figure out what to do at the appointment. I guess the fact that I made it another week before overdosing to try to knock myself out maybe suggests she thinks I was making it up? Or that it was a fake cry for help?

I want to die and all the meds I have left.... well, I have nothing to just knock me out. I’m missing work this morning and I don’t care anymore. I told them I was too sick to come in. Maybe they are glad. I’ll usually do anything to not miss work.

My head is full of suicidal thoughts and plans. There isn’t any point in telling any mental health care professional. No one appears to believe me. That must be why everyone is ignoring the depression and suicidal thoughts. They must think it’s fake.

I’m trying to stop myself from ending myself and now all I can think about is that I should clone myself?! I’m so freaking losing it. I seriously want to scream at my therapist. There is no point. I’m really angry this morning too. Argh. I think I’m still pretty drugged. My whole body hurts a lot. Things are dark. Maybe I can just sleep some more this morning before I try to do stuff.
 
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