Will You Always Be Suicidal?
/A student at one of my talks asked a poignant question: “do you think you’ll always be suicidal?”
I gave the only answer I had: “I don’t know, but, based on my history, I have to plan around my mind’s darker tendencies.” My brain had consistently thrown suicidal thoughts into my awareness since I was a teenager. At least one per day. A friend did the math, at minimum I’ve thought of suicide 5,475 times, and that’s not counting the days where I thought about dying every minute. That is an astonishingly heavy psychological burden that I managed to find improved methods of carrying through therapy, medication, and intensive outpatient programs. Because an unwanted and unexpected suicidal thought had become nearly as natural as breathing, I fully expected to live the rest of my life expending energy to mitigate the worst impulses of my mind.
The unpleasant, but true answer was uncertainty. My rule when speaking to young people is that I treat them with the same candor and respect as I do any adult. In many ways, they are smarter at navigating this modernizing world than I’ll ever be, and I do not believe in giving false hope or answers that I cannot support with evidence. That is why I told four hundred teenagers that I didn’t know if I’d always be suicidal in February of 2019, and that I had learned how to live with the worst my mind had to offer.
Then came ECT, or electroconvulsive therapy, in the winter of that same year.
I wrote off my phone before and after some of the procedures. Seeking to document my state of mind, and to pull the curtain back on a misunderstood and little talked about treatment.
https://mentallyagile.com/blog/2019/11/28/that-was-a-mistake
https://mentallyagile.com/blog/2019/11/27/electroconvulsive-therapy
https://mentallyagile.com/blog/2019/11/30/working-on-being-more-vulnerable
https://mentallyagile.com/blog/2019/12/6/another-day-another-treatment
https://mentallyagile.com/blog/2019/12/13/do-you-really-feel-a-difference
In the months after my final treatment I encouraged my family and friends to ask me about any suicidal thoughts I was having. Prior to ECT I could confidently response with: “yesterday.” After ECT I had to think about it: “maybe a few weeks ago?”
2020 was a stress-test for all of us, and for a recently discharged patient of Emory Wesley Woods and Skyland Trail who couldn’t return to work and spent his days alone in his apartment, I think a suicidal thought or two would make sense. My bank account was rapidly drawing closer to $0, the world was locked down, and my cat had escaped. This was a perfect environment for my brain to throw thoughts of self-destruction at me, but it didn’t.
I’ll amend that last sentence — my brain rarely produced suicidal thoughts. Since ECT the frequency and intensity of suicidal thoughts that come into my consciousness have decreased measurably. They are spaced out over months, and when I do have a suicidal thought it’s far away. Like an indistinct character way off on the horizon. I know it’s there, but it’s not close enough to be a threat. Whereas, prior to ECT, a suicidal thought would bound across my mental landscape, get right into my face, and ask: “are you ready to dance?” Some days I’d be ready, other days I’d take a beating, every day I needed to be on guard. That was the burden I believed I’d carry until my final days. Where those thoughts were the mental equivalent of Cerberus. Massive, ravenous, and terrifying. Now, they’re bite-sized and practically harmless:
If asked that same question again in a future talk I’m able to give a more hopeful answer: “I don’t know, and I’m glad a treatment was recommended to me that drastically stripped my suicidal thoughts of their power. Though I still remain vigilant, I no longer have to post a daily guard in my mind, and my quality of life has improved immeasurably because of that.”
Curious about the procedure? Here are some resources that can further de-mystify this treatment and help guide you or a loved one to asking your treatment team about it:
