There was an article in the local paper last week titled "Bringing Suicide Out of the Shadows". It was about the high rate of suicide among white males age 35-65 who have lived with depression their entire life but who hide it until...they just can't anymore.
It took me many years to realize that Shawn was severely depressed. In fact, I think the first time the notion even occurred to me was in 2002 when he stood there in the dark and told me, in precise detail, of a suicide plan he had formulated.
He told Amber at some point during their marriage that he "had thought about killing himself every day for 20 years".
I didn't know the darkness that resided within him.
He had always seemed carefree and happy-go-lucky.
It was an act he had perfected and he had a lot invested in it.
As he got older he couldn't maintain the facade with me and, later, with Amber.
The article identified the warning signs of suicide in "middle-aged" men who had been living with depression for many years. This list was one of the first that I thought reflected what I saw in Shawn.
Perhaps other lists over suicide warnings were written for teenagers or, more likely, women who display the more stereotypical signs of depression (lethargy, crying, etc).
This list and the mission described in the article seem important! There are other men out there who have suffered silently their entire lives. Men, who are wearing a happy mask while hurting inside in a way that damages their soul. Maybe their is help for them. Maybe the stigma of depression can be removed for these men so they have a voice and use it to DEMAND help for themselves!
I can't say that if I had seen this list during our marriage that I could have done anything differently. Nor can I tell you that I would have ever believed you if you had said he would become one of the 80% of suicides in our county that are committed by men between the age of 35-65.
I can tell you now, however, that it seems so obvious to me now that the ending of Shawn's story had been heading there for many years.
Here is the list...
• Threatening to hurt or kill oneself or talking about wanting to hurt or kill oneself. Yes, starting in 2002 - almost 10 years before he made his first and final attempt.
• Looking for ways to kill oneself by seeking access to firearms, pills or other means. Yes. It turns out that him hoarding pain pills after surgery wasn't for recreational use as he claimed. He later admitted to Amber he had been trying to save enough to kill himself. And then there was the gun collecting and target shooting he started - with no previous interest - in 2009.
• Talking or writing about death, dying or suicide when these actions are out of the ordinary for the person. It was certainly out of nowhere the first time he detailed a suicide plan to me. And there were all the times when he would go stand out in a lightning storm as if challenging the lightning to hit him.
• Feeling hopeless. He kept this hidden behind the anger.
• Feeling rage or uncontrolled anger or seeking revenge. Oh, boy! This became prominent in the years after the kids were born.
• Acting recklessly or engaging in risky activities. I guess standing in lightning storms counts? Or doing crazy things on a mountain bike.
• Feeling trapped — like there’s no way out. Again, he kept this hidden behind his anger. Although he did talk about feeling trapped in our marriage when he wanted to be with someone else "because it was the honorable thing to do"
• Increasing alcohol or drug use. Yep.
• Withdrawing from friends, family, society. Does hating "society" as a whole count?
Saturday, September 29, 2012
Cue - Scream
I woke up screaming at 3:10am.
The dream was so bad that I was actually nauseated when I got out of bed in an effort to re-enter reality.
Hours later, when I rose for the day, I realized it didn't take much effort to figure out why I had the dream.
You may have seen the headline in the past few days about how Fox News inadvertently aired a suicide on live TV.
They were following a police chase live, apparently that is a popular news story since the OJ Simpson excitement of years ago.
Instead of surrendering peacefully, the suspect got out of his car, pointed the gun at his head, and - as the news anchor hurriedly commanded to "cut" the scene - shot himself.
Of course, websites picked up this story and had the video available so you could watch it for yourself.
I clicked on the video...without even considering the ramifications.
But it wouldn't pull up and I returned to my work day.
This was all forgotten until about 11pm when I woke up after several hours of sleep and checked my phone. I know they say not to do this but I do it every night.
There, in front of me, was an article on Slate chastising websites for posting this video - pointing out that it risks sensationalizing suicide.
Even in my sleepy state I questioned myself as to whether it was a good idea for ME to watch the video and I realized how stupid I had been to click on it earlier without even thinking about the impact it could have on me.
I drifted back to sleep only to dream this...
I was sitting in my living room watching a Denver football game on TV. Suddenly the broadcast was interrupted by news media saying that multiple planes had been hijacked across the US and that they were following the story live. I watched in horror as they suddenly showed the Denver football stadium as a plan approached. I saw the people fleeing and screaming. And then I saw the plane hit the stadium.
The broadcasters kept replaying the video over and over in slow motion so you could see the people running, falling and burning. It was extremely graphic. Horribly graphic.
And then they showed that there were hundreds of planes - all across the US and they were flying into crowded places.
I ran terrified in to where R. was sleeping - yelling and trying to wake her to tell her of the danger and to get comfort from my fear. She wouldn't wake despite my desperate shaking and pulling of her arm.
And then I saw the plane flying sideways outside along the windows of the house.
Cue scream.
Analysis:
I thought he was angry.
The dream was so bad that I was actually nauseated when I got out of bed in an effort to re-enter reality.
Hours later, when I rose for the day, I realized it didn't take much effort to figure out why I had the dream.
You may have seen the headline in the past few days about how Fox News inadvertently aired a suicide on live TV.
They were following a police chase live, apparently that is a popular news story since the OJ Simpson excitement of years ago.
Instead of surrendering peacefully, the suspect got out of his car, pointed the gun at his head, and - as the news anchor hurriedly commanded to "cut" the scene - shot himself.
Of course, websites picked up this story and had the video available so you could watch it for yourself.
I clicked on the video...without even considering the ramifications.
But it wouldn't pull up and I returned to my work day.
This was all forgotten until about 11pm when I woke up after several hours of sleep and checked my phone. I know they say not to do this but I do it every night.
There, in front of me, was an article on Slate chastising websites for posting this video - pointing out that it risks sensationalizing suicide.
Even in my sleepy state I questioned myself as to whether it was a good idea for ME to watch the video and I realized how stupid I had been to click on it earlier without even thinking about the impact it could have on me.
I drifted back to sleep only to dream this...
I was sitting in my living room watching a Denver football game on TV. Suddenly the broadcast was interrupted by news media saying that multiple planes had been hijacked across the US and that they were following the story live. I watched in horror as they suddenly showed the Denver football stadium as a plan approached. I saw the people fleeing and screaming. And then I saw the plane hit the stadium.
The broadcasters kept replaying the video over and over in slow motion so you could see the people running, falling and burning. It was extremely graphic. Horribly graphic.
And then they showed that there were hundreds of planes - all across the US and they were flying into crowded places.
I ran terrified in to where R. was sleeping - yelling and trying to wake her to tell her of the danger and to get comfort from my fear. She wouldn't wake despite my desperate shaking and pulling of her arm.
And then I saw the plane flying sideways outside along the windows of the house.
Cue scream.
Analysis:
- Clearly there is a 9/11 theme - an event that I had a somewhat interesting reaction to considering I was 40 weeks pregnant when it happened and gave birth 8 days later
- The news showing death is clearly about the suicide video
- The part about R. not waking up - even though it was her in the dream I don't think it really was her (if that makes any sense) - I think that I was actually about me trying to "wake Shawn up" to alert him to the danger (of his ultimate suicide) and that it was too late. The trying to wake scene was a familiar one of trying to get Shawn up after he had passed out.
I thought he was angry.
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
The Invisible Photo
I recently went down to the basement and waded through boxes to where I had buried the photo albums from...my youth.
It's funny how I see my life before the divorce as my youth and my life since the divorce as...oldness.
I had the thought that I would find some photos of Shawn and of the two of us together to scan and post.
As I flipped through the albums I was careful not to think too much over any one picture (other than to notice I once had a bikini body!!) - I'm still so cautious about "going there" - but I couldn't find the picture I sought.
There were plenty of snapshots of us outdoors enjoying our life together with our pets. Shots where we looked young and tan and carefree.
But these shots weren't satisfying the itch that needed scratching.
I realized what I was looking for was a photo of Shawn as I remember him at the end. Sitting in a chair with a blank look on his face and a beer tipping precariously from his grip.
Why did I want to find this photo?
It doesn't even exist except in my mind.
I mean who, in their right mind, takes a photo of their husband in a drunken stupor.
It's not an attractive look.
In fact it is down right disgusting.
It robs you of any respect you once had for a person.
Do I want this photo to prove something to myself?
Do I need to see it now to shut off any sadness or pity I might feel?
Do I need to see it to hang on to the anger?
It's funny how I see my life before the divorce as my youth and my life since the divorce as...oldness.
I had the thought that I would find some photos of Shawn and of the two of us together to scan and post.
As I flipped through the albums I was careful not to think too much over any one picture (other than to notice I once had a bikini body!!) - I'm still so cautious about "going there" - but I couldn't find the picture I sought.
There were plenty of snapshots of us outdoors enjoying our life together with our pets. Shots where we looked young and tan and carefree.
But these shots weren't satisfying the itch that needed scratching.
I realized what I was looking for was a photo of Shawn as I remember him at the end. Sitting in a chair with a blank look on his face and a beer tipping precariously from his grip.
Why did I want to find this photo?
It doesn't even exist except in my mind.
I mean who, in their right mind, takes a photo of their husband in a drunken stupor.
It's not an attractive look.
In fact it is down right disgusting.
It robs you of any respect you once had for a person.
Do I want this photo to prove something to myself?
Do I need to see it now to shut off any sadness or pity I might feel?
Do I need to see it to hang on to the anger?
Monday, September 24, 2012
I'm scared
My thoughts don't sound very eloquent in my head but I feel I need to at least spill them out on the screen. Perhaps I can clean them up later.
EMDR involves reliving traumatic experiences in your life while retraining the physiological reactions in your body - a person is basically making new neural pathways. It has been shown to be effective for PTSD in numerous studies and I DO believe it will work for me because: a) as much as I've tried to ignore, I do have a number of what most most people would describe as "traumatic experiences" in my life (Ugh! I hate to think of myself as "that person") and b) I have had a few instances recently where I was able to recognize myself having a physiological response to someone else's actions and I can recognize that it is not about me just being emotional but, rather, how my brain learned - starting at the age of 2 - how to react when there was "danger" around me. The only problem was I'm not a very good judge of what is dangerous because, in my house, danger came out of nowhere.
So my decision for this week is to decide which traumatic experiences I want to start with...
Do I start chronologically working forwards from childhood? Or backwards? Or with the most traumatic experiences of them all? Or maybe begin with the "little t" traumas? With such a menu to choose from it is hard to know.
As I reflect on this decision I realize that the incidents in my life that would seem to be the most traumatic aren't the ones that cause me the most pain. Why is this? Is it like this for everyone?
Logically you would think that having my feet beaten with a board all day for leaving my toys on the stairs and ultimately being lifted and thrown across the room like a rag doll would be one to start with but...the part of this that is traumatic is the feeling I had this day, and many others, of being summoned from my room and not knowing what awaited me. It wasn't the actual beating that was traumatic, it was the uncertainty of not knowing what was going to happen or when it was going to end. So there's my first one to re-experience.
The second trauma I have chosen to relive in an effort to retrain is the sound of my Mother crying and begging my father not to hurt her. She took the brunt of his anger. As long as I stayed in my bedroom and was quiet I generally was safe. I want to get rid of the anger and helplessness I felt when I peered through the floor vent and tried to see what he was doing to her. The VENT is really fixated in my memory as a traumatic visual. It was a symbol of being cut off from what was going on downstairs. I can still feel the cold metal against my face as I tried to see and listen. I can still hear the sound of it opening and closing. I can still remember how to open it s-l-o-w-l-y so he wouldn't know.
And third. Can I stop here? Can I be done if I work through these three?
Third is the moment when I asked Shawn, when he was in the middle of a black out, "Would you ever hurt me?"
And his icy reply was, "Why would I fuck up my life like that?"
That trauma was different than the others because it was one specific event. It was instantaneous. What followed that statement was not traumatic! It was that instant that I realized, "This man could hurt me."
EMDR involves reliving traumatic experiences in your life while retraining the physiological reactions in your body - a person is basically making new neural pathways. It has been shown to be effective for PTSD in numerous studies and I DO believe it will work for me because: a) as much as I've tried to ignore, I do have a number of what most most people would describe as "traumatic experiences" in my life (Ugh! I hate to think of myself as "that person") and b) I have had a few instances recently where I was able to recognize myself having a physiological response to someone else's actions and I can recognize that it is not about me just being emotional but, rather, how my brain learned - starting at the age of 2 - how to react when there was "danger" around me. The only problem was I'm not a very good judge of what is dangerous because, in my house, danger came out of nowhere.
So my decision for this week is to decide which traumatic experiences I want to start with...
Do I start chronologically working forwards from childhood? Or backwards? Or with the most traumatic experiences of them all? Or maybe begin with the "little t" traumas? With such a menu to choose from it is hard to know.
As I reflect on this decision I realize that the incidents in my life that would seem to be the most traumatic aren't the ones that cause me the most pain. Why is this? Is it like this for everyone?
Logically you would think that having my feet beaten with a board all day for leaving my toys on the stairs and ultimately being lifted and thrown across the room like a rag doll would be one to start with but...the part of this that is traumatic is the feeling I had this day, and many others, of being summoned from my room and not knowing what awaited me. It wasn't the actual beating that was traumatic, it was the uncertainty of not knowing what was going to happen or when it was going to end. So there's my first one to re-experience.
The second trauma I have chosen to relive in an effort to retrain is the sound of my Mother crying and begging my father not to hurt her. She took the brunt of his anger. As long as I stayed in my bedroom and was quiet I generally was safe. I want to get rid of the anger and helplessness I felt when I peered through the floor vent and tried to see what he was doing to her. The VENT is really fixated in my memory as a traumatic visual. It was a symbol of being cut off from what was going on downstairs. I can still feel the cold metal against my face as I tried to see and listen. I can still hear the sound of it opening and closing. I can still remember how to open it s-l-o-w-l-y so he wouldn't know.
And third. Can I stop here? Can I be done if I work through these three?
Third is the moment when I asked Shawn, when he was in the middle of a black out, "Would you ever hurt me?"
And his icy reply was, "Why would I fuck up my life like that?"
That trauma was different than the others because it was one specific event. It was instantaneous. What followed that statement was not traumatic! It was that instant that I realized, "This man could hurt me."
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
The more things change, the more they stay the same.
I just came across the “Life History” I completed in 1991 prior to beginning with my first therapist in college. It asked me to list my “five main fears”.
Here they were at age 20:
1. Being made fun of
2. Sounding stupid
3. Appearing childish
4. Death
5. Being criticized
I described my home atmosphere as a child as “very routine oriented – no spontaneity except when something bad happened”.
I wrote that "punishments as a child" were“humiliation, sent to room for a week (allowed to come out for school or to go to bathroom), beating and ignoring”
In answer to the question, “How would someone who likes you describe you?” I said, “Jennifer is generous, kind, enthusiastic, intelligent, happy, sensitive and kind-hearted”.
And to the question of, “How would someone who dislikes you describe you?” I wrote, “Jennifer talks too much, is stupid, awkward looking, childish, thinks she’s smart and is too dumb to know she’s not, simple-minded and boring.”
Ouch!
It is interesting for me to revisit my self-assessment from 21 years past as I began some very difficult work with a new therapist. After a couple of sessions of getting an overview of my life history she had some interesting observations... First, no shocker here...I have some pretty serious trauma work for PTSD - both from my childhood and my marriage - that I haven't dealt with (unless you count convincing myself "it wasn't that bad" as a form of "dealing"). I am going to be trying something called EMDR to work through these experiences and change how I react physiologically to these memories. Based on what I know so far, it is going to involve reliving these painful memories while learning a technique for reprocessing them. It can be difficult but has proven effective in the long run. You can read more about it here.
Second, she observed how I really was the one holding everything together during my years with Shawn. I had no one (sober) to support me when it came to the business, the finances, the house, the kids, the marriage. And so I became what she called "Super Functional". Yeah, that probably describes me. And I take that title with pride BUT...clearly it is not sustainable over the course of a lifetime. She suggested I may have reached a point in my life where I don't have to function for everyone in every area of life. Crazy!
Third...oh where is the third?? My mind is swimming with all of this.
Just when I thought I was getting "better" because, "Hey! I've dedicated a whole three months to processing the past 5 years of my life while simultaneously ignoring some of the foundations that found me in the situation I did".
Now I have a lot of hard work to do.
I will do this for me. I will do this for my kids. I will do it for my Mom. I will do it for my partner. I will do it because, as far as we know, we only get ONE LIFE and I want to make the most of it because it is so precious.
Here they were at age 20:
1. Being made fun of
2. Sounding stupid
3. Appearing childish
4. Death
5. Being criticized
I described my home atmosphere as a child as “very routine oriented – no spontaneity except when something bad happened”.
I wrote that "punishments as a child" were“humiliation, sent to room for a week (allowed to come out for school or to go to bathroom), beating and ignoring”
In answer to the question, “How would someone who likes you describe you?” I said, “Jennifer is generous, kind, enthusiastic, intelligent, happy, sensitive and kind-hearted”.
And to the question of, “How would someone who dislikes you describe you?” I wrote, “Jennifer talks too much, is stupid, awkward looking, childish, thinks she’s smart and is too dumb to know she’s not, simple-minded and boring.”
Ouch!
It is interesting for me to revisit my self-assessment from 21 years past as I began some very difficult work with a new therapist. After a couple of sessions of getting an overview of my life history she had some interesting observations... First, no shocker here...I have some pretty serious trauma work for PTSD - both from my childhood and my marriage - that I haven't dealt with (unless you count convincing myself "it wasn't that bad" as a form of "dealing"). I am going to be trying something called EMDR to work through these experiences and change how I react physiologically to these memories. Based on what I know so far, it is going to involve reliving these painful memories while learning a technique for reprocessing them. It can be difficult but has proven effective in the long run. You can read more about it here.
Second, she observed how I really was the one holding everything together during my years with Shawn. I had no one (sober) to support me when it came to the business, the finances, the house, the kids, the marriage. And so I became what she called "Super Functional". Yeah, that probably describes me. And I take that title with pride BUT...clearly it is not sustainable over the course of a lifetime. She suggested I may have reached a point in my life where I don't have to function for everyone in every area of life. Crazy!
Third...oh where is the third?? My mind is swimming with all of this.
Just when I thought I was getting "better" because, "Hey! I've dedicated a whole three months to processing the past 5 years of my life while simultaneously ignoring some of the foundations that found me in the situation I did".
Now I have a lot of hard work to do.
I will do this for me. I will do this for my kids. I will do it for my Mom. I will do it for my partner. I will do it because, as far as we know, we only get ONE LIFE and I want to make the most of it because it is so precious.
Seepage
I was foolish enough to recently wonder if I was "in remission" from my grieving or maybe even...done.
Ha!
It turns out that after the very raw grieving the evening of my birthday I must have subconsciously put a very thick bandage around the gash. And, as tends to happen to a gaping wound left untreated, after a period of time the gunk starts to seep through even the thickest of bandages.
As you may recall, when I first resumed writing, it was because I had left my longtime therapist in tears thoroughly convinced that she "hated me". I poked fun at myself for the patheticness of the thought but, of course, it still hurt.
What was really happening was that the universe was using this as an opportunity to demonstrate to me, once again...
"IT'S NOT ALL ABOUT YOU, JENNIFER!"
Yes, you see, the very day I returned home from a visit to my new therapist (more on that later) I found a letter in my mailbox from this person who supposedly hated me.
It was a goodbye letter.
The ovarian cancer that she had fought for two years has quit responding to treatment and she is now receiving Hospice care in her home.
She didn't hate me.
She was dying.
And I suppose that might make someone a little impatient with someone who was stuck not dealing with her own emotions.
Thank you, Dr. Peters, for teaching me, "You don't have to believe everything you think."
For helping me learn to detach from my emotions and rob them of the power over me.
I promise I will continue the hard work.
And, maybe next time, when I try to convince myself, "This person doesn't like me." I will remeber that IT'S NOT ALL ABOUT ME!
Ha!
It turns out that after the very raw grieving the evening of my birthday I must have subconsciously put a very thick bandage around the gash. And, as tends to happen to a gaping wound left untreated, after a period of time the gunk starts to seep through even the thickest of bandages.
As you may recall, when I first resumed writing, it was because I had left my longtime therapist in tears thoroughly convinced that she "hated me". I poked fun at myself for the patheticness of the thought but, of course, it still hurt.
What was really happening was that the universe was using this as an opportunity to demonstrate to me, once again...
"IT'S NOT ALL ABOUT YOU, JENNIFER!"
Yes, you see, the very day I returned home from a visit to my new therapist (more on that later) I found a letter in my mailbox from this person who supposedly hated me.
It was a goodbye letter.
The ovarian cancer that she had fought for two years has quit responding to treatment and she is now receiving Hospice care in her home.
She didn't hate me.
She was dying.
And I suppose that might make someone a little impatient with someone who was stuck not dealing with her own emotions.
Thank you, Dr. Peters, for teaching me, "You don't have to believe everything you think."
For helping me learn to detach from my emotions and rob them of the power over me.
I promise I will continue the hard work.
And, maybe next time, when I try to convince myself, "This person doesn't like me." I will remeber that IT'S NOT ALL ABOUT ME!
Life Lesson - Part Deuce
Epilogue: Thank you, Universe, for the follow-up lesson of letting people know EVERY DAY that they are making a difference in your life.
I just wrote to Dr. Peters thanking her for the things she taught me. When I went to look up her address I found the update on her website.
She went on to the next stage of the journey yesterday. She did not suffer long in her final days on earth.
I will still mail the card. I believe she knows she made a difference and perhaps it will be a comfort to her family.
I just wrote to Dr. Peters thanking her for the things she taught me. When I went to look up her address I found the update on her website.
She went on to the next stage of the journey yesterday. She did not suffer long in her final days on earth.
I will still mail the card. I believe she knows she made a difference and perhaps it will be a comfort to her family.
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