My Ativan addiction is due my former lover’s violent suicide
over eight years ago. To put it into perspective: Ativan is the only way for me to cope with the
specter of death that I have been dodging. I feel as though I am on a
precipice, barely capable of keeping my balance. I am afraid that any moment I
will lose grip with reality (as my lover did) and fall (fling myself?) headlong
over the edge. A fear of death is an unhealthy fear, as many fears are.
However, a fear of death is lethal when combined with the reality that death is
inevitable. Death is something we cannot avoid. A fear of snakes can easily be
combatted by staying away from snake-prone areas. A fear of death is most
efficiently dealt with through the use of a variety of intoxicants and medications.
My psychiatrist disagrees with me, however; he believes psychotherapy the
correct course of action.
My psychiatrist has yet to challenge me on my occasional binge drinking
and Ativan intake as a means to cope. How can he?
Paul, Tim's best friend, told me how he walked
in on a one-man self-staged bloodbath. The rotting corpse of my former
lover, half of his head blown off, brain matter and blood splattered against
the wall. A half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels on the table next to him, bottles
of Oxycontin and Vicodin scattered at his feet.
I still have the philodendron Tim gave me before we broke
up, before the horrendous chain of events that led to his death. I still have
the memory of being highly medicated after his death (after the
psych ward had released me from its clutches). I had sat—naked and crying—in
the middle of the bathroom floor, trying to remember Tim’s last name. It wasn’t
until the following morning when I woke up, my body aching from a night on cold
floor tiles, that I had remembered his last name with a sense of crazed relief:
Berringer.
So I ask myself: Why do I persist on putting
myself into situations that can potentially lead to danger—both physical AND
emotional?
I thought I had found true love and I was rewarded with a
man who had a psychotic break with reality.
I wish I knew how to answer your question. Maybe we're like moths and flames?
ReplyDeleteI agree with you, not with your psychiatrist, though. Best of luck.
Wow, that is a lot to deal with. I had to make my peace with the possibility of death in Afghanistan. Since then, I do not fear her.
ReplyDeleteSuicude is a personal decision, one I view as weak (sorry if I pass judgement on a loved one),but a personal decision. Anything you did or failed to do would not have affected his decision in the long run.
If drugs help you cope, use them (in moderation). If sex helps you, fuck away, if booze helps, bottoms up. What ever gets you through to tomorrow when you can work on being the best "you", you can be.
Until that day, blog away and we will all be here for you.
xo
TTFN
Mr. No Name
@M - Yes, we are like moths to the flame, aren' we?
ReplyDelete@MNN - I believe that suicide (or a suicide attempt) is an act of pure desperation, not weakness. I can say this because I speak from experience.
Thanks for your support and feedback, I certainly appreciate it!
I concede the point, your wording is much better. On rereading my comments, 'weakness' was a harsh word. Desperation is better word that captures what must be going through their minds at the time. Perhaps a desperate act in a moment of weakness is a more apt description.
ReplyDeleteI think counseling is an excellent idea. Just because you need the Ativan now doesn't mean you always will. At some point you will be able to deal with these issues and your psychiatrist will recognize when you have arrived there.
ReplyDelete@Petunia I tried psychotherapy for a brief period of time. However, my therapist tried too hard to "change" who I am. I didn't like that. I suppose I should have found a new therapist, but I chose other means to cope. Maybe I'll try therapy again...someday!
ReplyDelete