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Covid has had me struggling quite a lot, what with most of my social circle disappearing, getting whacked with mild (?) depression as a consequence, and trying to wrangle ADHD (that got diagnosed last year, after I requested to get assessed) along with the last year of a uni-level degree.
While I have never been... overtly suicidal, I guess? I still had this one bad night a few months back, where I was really upset and kind of started thinking about whether the medicines I had at home would be enough to kill me. It didn't get beyond that, and the next day felt better, but that's still too close a look at the abyss for my liking.
(It was mostly over struggling with school, feeling lazy, stupid, selfish and like I couldn't get anything right, and basically spiraling into "The Symptoms Of My Disorder Are My Personal Moral Failings, Actually" - anyone who's neurodivergent, especially if they struggle with executive dysfunction, probably knows what I'm talking about. ADHD can be nasty at times.)
Well, time goes by for a bit. My country gives everyone online access to their medical journals, and the assessment process gave me the habit of checking the journal after each appointment to see what the doctors and psychiatrists had written. (I'm autistic as well, so I've always wished I could know what people think of me - this is as close as I'll get, I guess.)
Psychiatric healthcare apparently demands an assessment of suicide risk along with every visit, which is usually labelled as "minimal risk of suicide, does not need to be taken into account".
I've always replied to those questions with a strong no - I have a good support network, I am positive to my future after school, even though the last part of school has been stressing me out a lot for the past months, and I am very religious and thus not worried about the future on a more global scale - I know for sure it will all be fixed eventually. The only thing I've ever expressed, from the get-go, is a wish to fast-forward to after I've graduated and get more control over my life.
Well, last week I checked my journal again, after some over-the-phone discussion with the doctor concerning medicine dosage and a visit to a new therapist. I was reading through the doctor's notes when I got to the following part, loosely translated:
"Some risk of suicide. Possible increased risk as an effect of further changes to life situation should be taken into account."
The following note, from the new therapist, went back to "minimal risk", but my goodness, that really rattled me.
I've never mentioned that one "worst night" I had, neither to the psychiatrists nor to family and friends, but seeing it written down anyway was... I don't even know.
"No. No, that's not me. I refuse to let that be me."
Maybe it was just because I'd admitted to feeling like I'd become depressed over the past months during the visit before that, with one of the nurses, and he had read that part? Maybe it wasn't anything in particular that made him decide to write that, but it still felt like a real wake up call.
Life feels better now, and the last few weeks in particular have improved a lot. I'm quite an inflexible person, but I'm slowly coming to terms with having to put some plans on ice for a while and with the idea of failure - especially since any failures now can't even mess me up that much. Yeah, I might not get my degree and license immediately and have to retake one or two exams in the fall, but since I'll most likely temporarily move back home for a while I don't need to get a job immediately - my parents will support me, and my teachers are willing to work with me to make things convenient.
I also have some great friends - one diagnosed ADHDer (slightly after me) nad one likely undiagnosed ADHDer. They understand me and give me the support my parents can't really wrap their heads around, and they really help me to look at the situation from brighter angles. Idk, sometimes only certain people can get something into your head, even though they haven't actually said anything new. And they're a calming presence as well, I guess.
Also, there's so much I love about life - music, art, storytelling, getting to laugh at things, finding deep thought-provoking stuff, colours and sunlight and animals and flowers and stars; why would I give any of that up?
I suppose I just needed to get all of this off my chest somewhere. My feelings are a bit of a rollercoaster, and I occasionally feel a bit of that depression apathy, but if I were to graph it - when those journal notes were written I was still quite low, and right now it's only going up. Maybe I just need some reassurance that it was, indeed, temporary. Things should end up okay, after all.
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