I wish it weren’t so. That others were not going through the experience of dealing with a suicidal partner. But from the visitors and search terms people use to find my blog, I see that there are quite a few of us out there.
Right after Dave’s second attempt, I felt like I was falling apart. I would come home and see Dave’s car in the carport and think, “Oh please, don’t let me walk in there and find him hanging!” If he was getting a little irritated with me, I feared he was tipping toward an attempt. I was afraid to voice my irritations with him. Fear and anxiety were taking over my life.
So two months after his second attempt I requested individual therapy.
Individual therapy helped because I didn’t have to censor what I said. My therapist helped me process my feelings about my husband, Dave, in it’s very rawest stage, in the safety of four walls. During the session I could craft the language in a style that Dave, my husband, could hear and take in and prevent him from walling me off or spiraling towards suicide.
I got to hear over and over again that it was not my fault.
I got to process the trauma. Grieve. Heal.
Though Dave’s last attempt was over a year ago, I’m still processing it. It still affects me. The fears and anxieties still erupt and Individual therapy has been critical in helping me get through that year.
I am doing individual therapy to take care of me. To help me. To support me. It’s what I need and I’m doing it to take care of me.
Note: This post was created on 8-10-12, before the previouspost , but has just been fine tuned and posted.
We are fast approaching the anniversary of Dave’s attempt last year. I am acutely aware of this anniversary date, even though the sixth year anniversary date of his previous attempt passed without a thought.
During one of my last individual sessions prior to my therapist’s departure, my therapist and I addressed my fears about the possibility of a replay of Dave making an attempt like the one that occurred just after my therapist returned from vacation last year. This time we agreed that I could call my therapist as soon as any of Dave’s red flags made an appearance vs. waiting until Dave needed hospitalization.
At a staff meeting my boss shared news that shocked the entire staff. I couldn’t breathe. I took deep breaths–but my lungs felt void of air. The room felt heavy, somber. Tears filled my eyes rolling down my cheeks. My boss looked at me, knowing my background and said, “looks like that hit a nerve.” I nodded and said I was okay. She shared her own worries.
I continued to tell myself to take deep breaths. My air supply returned and I stopped tearing. The staff meeting continued as usual. My throat tightened as I commanded myself not to cry, not to feel. Continue reading →
It’s June 2nd. Wow! The 6th year anniversary of my husband Dave’s first attempt has come and gone. (I’ve been posting about my experiences after his first attempt in the “aftermath” thread).
The significance–this is the first year that I didn’t count down to the anniversary date. Instead in the month of May I counted down to my daughter Beth’s 12th birthday. I enjoyed Mother’s day. I mapped out and watched for Beth’s end of school events.
I lived life.
Life’s going well for us.
1) Dave’s taking his anti-depressant medication consistently. He really is a different person off of it or maybe withdrawing from it. Edgier. Irritable. Irascible. In both attempts he went off his meds. Continue reading →
Dave’s checking out today. It’s unclear to me if he’ll be coming home with me or if he’s going to stay with his sister. His sister told him on a visit that instead of ending it all (’cause he’s living with me) he should just come and live with her.
As we walk out, Dave said he’s optimistic. He’s had time to think. He’s glad to be alive.