I Call My Therapist
I Call My Therapist
Okay, so I’m talking to Michael, and I’m feeling just a little bit better because I like talking to him, but I’m still pretty mad and desperate. Michael agreed that it was awful what Cheryl said to me and that I had every right to be really pissed off. I told him I just wanted to die. He told me he was really glad that I had called, even though it was 10 at night, rather than making another suicide attempt. He was glad I had kept my promise.
He asked me how suicidal I was on the 0 to 5 scale – I told him 4.5. He asked me what 4.5 was like for me; what was I thinking and doing? I told him I definitely wanted to die, and was thinking about how to do it. He asked what I was coming up with about how, and I told him, “Pills”. He asked what kind of pills I had and how many. I lied to him – I said I just had the weekly dose Dr. Cooper gave me, but I didn’t tell him about Tina’s pills.
Michael said that suicide sounded like a potentially permanent solution to a problem that might be temporary, or might have some other possible solutions. He asked what problem I was trying to solve by killing myself. I said I just couldn’t stand feeling so bad about the fight with Cheryl on top of all the other things that are wrong with my life.
Michael agreed that it sounded like I was feeling really awful. Then he asked if I’d be willing to try using some mindfulness and distraction skills for a couple of minutes with him, to try to do something right now about how bad I was feeling.