“I’m Going to Fight”- A Guest Post by Alum, Suzanne Garverich
*Content Warning- Suicide*
The feelings just came swirling in, flooding my brain then the rest of my body. Although I was overwhelmed, feeling as if I was drowning in the darkness and the desolation, my brain was finally quieted down, on one track. This is the death trap of suicidality. It is deep, dark, and soul-swelling, but the thought of getting free from all the pain is so seductive, and it brings a sense of calm that is so appealing that you would follow it anywhere.
About two weeks ago I started feeling really irritable. People were annoying me. People I loved and often found a lot of joy and comfort around. It was slight at first. I could hardly tell it was there: something someone always says or does started to be glaring – too loud, annoying. I passed it off, pretty much ignored it, just kept moving along. That is how it starts to take hold. You pass it off as nothing, ignore it, and then in the shadows it starts taking a hold without you knowing it. People seem to be honking more, running more red lights, being in a much bigger hurry, that it affects you being in the world. Your spouse doesn’t change the cat litter the exact day you have agreed upon, but history shows that she will always get to it. But you have decided this lack of doing means they expect you to do it; that they are silently saying they don’t respect you or your time. Someone calls you when you are eating dinner, and you think, “they know I’m eating dinner, how dare they call me”. Each time the negative thought emerges, it binds to the previous one, making it grow stronger. Making the lies of the thoughts feel more like truths each time.
I had convinced myself that my wife was doing everything wrong, and if she just did it my way we would all be better off. By this time there was no identifying this was a sign of depression – a sign that I needed to pay attention to, that I was on the path into desolation. No, this was a fact. A fact that I knew how things should be done and my wife only needed to follow them. She was the problem, not my thinking, not my depression.
We had planned to go away with some of her family; family we have fun with, laugh with. I basically felt that this weekend away was something I had to endure. It was my lot in life to go on this horrible trip. I was sacrificing myself to go to a beautiful Vermont Inn for the weekend to do leaf-peeping and hiking. What a horrible thing people were making me do. You laugh, but that is truly how I felt and thought – the two were now conjoined, my feelings and thoughts. There was no space between them; no independence between the two.
So off we went, and off I went with them, moving forward on the path of depression without even knowing it. The weekend was horrible – at least in my mind it was. The other three had a fabulous time, and looking in from the outside, so was I. But it might as well have been a completely different world going on in my head. First it was that people were texting me too much on the day of us getting to the Inn. Then it was my wife not wanting to make a phone call to the Inn when we were lost. That basically meant that for our whole life before and in the future I was going to have to take responsibility for everything in our relationship. Hook after hook, the negative, coercive thinking got stronger and stronger, taking hold of all reason and perspective. I think I could handle it if the thinking just ended up with me being annoyed with people, but the depression is much more cunning than that – much more intricate. First I was annoyed about people annoying me and causing me to not have a good time. Then the trickery began. It was not that I was annoyed with people, but now it was about figuring out what was wrong with me that I thought this way. Why couldn’t I see the good in people? I never see the good in people. What is wrong with me that everyone annoys me, even my friends? Why am I not happy; why am I never happy? I am so damaged, sick. Everything that I come into contact with becomes corroded. That is the dark power of depression. It takes hold of you on multiple levels, creating the desolation in all cells of your body, mind, and soul.
I had no idea what was going on. Well, I actually did: I was damaged. So by the time Nikki and I got into the car to go home, I had walked so far down the path of depression, without knowing it. Nikki suggested we listen to Oprah’s podcast, thinking it would be inspirational and help me get out of whatever I was in. We listened to Tina Turner talk about her son’s suicide. As she talked, the feelings began to swirl in, overwhelming me with want and desire to have this be my story – to be able to be successful in leaving this world. Leaving all the pain that had welled up inside me. Finally, the suicidality was showing its hand. It had been silent, stalking me for weeks, and finally when it got its hold on me, it came out of the darkness, trying to claim victory over me.
This might be surprising that I say this, but fortunately this was not the first time my mental illness had tried to claim victory over me. I had been here many times before. I say fortunately because, even though I felt as if dying was a sensible solution, there was history living and breathing in my body that, unbeknownst to me, kicks into gear when I am so far down the rabbit hole, I don’t think I can get out. I was succumbing to the suicidal thoughts, and I was struck by how good it felt to do that. That feeling of relief – relief in the prospect of killing myself is what sprang my subconscious into battle. It was what made me dial my friend’s phone number in sheer urgency after sobbing my way home in a car for about an hour. It was what made me blurt out the words, “I am in trouble. I feel so sick and damaged, and I just want to die.” These are the words that my mouth instinctively knew to say when I felt so beaten, so miserable, so in despair. Even though these words are worrisome, troubling, and desperate, they are actually the words that mean I am going to fight. Fight with all my might against that seductive siren call of suicide. This is what the history of me being in suicidal states and fighting my way out of them time and time again does for me – they help me to instinctively set things in motion to get help.
As soon as I said those words, a shift occurred. It didn’t take away the suicidality right away. The thoughts were still persuasive and invasive, but my will to live – to fight for life – was called into action. I started putting all the tools in place that I have learned over the years from dealing with depression and bipolar disorder. I continued to reach out to my friend. I showed up to my support group. I called my therapist and scheduled a session. I was kind to myself. I took baths, read, went to bed early. I made my life very structured, which gave me a sense of security and peace. I treated myself like I would my best friend if they were dealing with what I was. It was a little slower than I wanted, but the suicidality started to pass, and the depression started to lift.
My story is not about my symptoms of depression, bipolar, PTSD, and anxiety going away and never coming back. My story and strength come from the fact that my symptoms recur, and that I get to the other side of them every time. I not only get through them, but I also learn and grow each time, preparing myself for the next time a symptom might occur. I am not so afraid of my illnesses anymore. They are very powerful and need to be taken very seriously, but they do not get to run the whole show anymore. I get to decide how the story is going to end, not my mental illness.
If you or someone you know needs help, please call the Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255 or text BRAVE to 741-741 to text with a professional.
About the Author: Suzanne Garverich holds her Master’s in Public Health and works for Northeastern University for a research institute that focuses on promoting health equity and social justice. She has experience working in mental health research on projects that identify and try to break barriers that stand in the way of people living with mental illness receive treatment and recover from their mental illness. Suzanne was in the Boston This Is My Brave show (May 2018 ), continuing her years of sharing her story to fight the stigma that exists when living with mental illness. She has been happily married to her wife Nikki for more than two years. Suzanne has a strong network of friends and family that help her walk the path of recovery.
