Migraine and Suicide II

“I want to live, I just don't want to live like this.”

The stigma of suicide is rampant in our society. Mention it to most anyone and the general reaction is, “It's selfish. Do those people think about the loved ones they've left behind to grieve?”

I approached the subject of suicide in a SharePost on MMC, oddly enough on both my husband's and mother's birthday in 2008, located here: Migraine and Suicide

The reactions to the post were overwhelming, and even 3 years later generate some comments. Recently, on my list of “what I've learned from having chronic migraines” post, I included a suicide mention at the end of the list. In this post, I hope to further address what I meant by that short blurb as well as broach a subject that most Americans find taboo.

A private discussion with a fellow migraineur (and someone I consider a very well-spoken and thoughtful individual, with a heart that is certainly too big for her own body), Kelly, is really what prompted me to write more in-depth about this issue. So with permission from her, I'm going to tackle this subject through her words and viewpoint as well as my own. Our thoughts sync up so perfectly on this subject, that I'm left wondering how many other people feel the same, but are afraid to speak up about it for fear that they will be mistaken for an outcast, or worse.

Kelly summed it up perfectly when she wrote to me. “I want to live, but I don't want to live like this. Why would people be want to be so selfish as to keep me around while I am suffering so profoundly?” Selfishness is often the most visceral reason against suicide from the outsider, but they often do not understand how profoundly the chronic pain sufferer is, well, suffering.

I find myself wondering the same, too. I know there are a lot of reasons why committing suicide is so painful to think about on the other side of the fence, and love plays a huge role in those thoughts. We don't want to lose anyone we know and care about deeply, but as humans, we all die. It's just a matter of when, and not so much the how. But for chronic pain sufferers, the why is often the most important factor. People commit suicide for a variety of reasons, and I can't say that I judge them for doing so. It's their choice to make, and only theirs.

Chronic pain takes away quality of life, often gradually, but it's also profound. I don't like to pussyfoot around any more, and I won't lie to myself or anyone that having chronic Migraine makes me want to kill myself. There. I said it. Having chronic Migraine makes me want to kill myself. I also have an auto-immune disorder, and Fibromyalgia. I have had some very bad days, and very few good days. I've often had to rely on certain individuals to get me where I need to go, and most especially I rely on a husband who works 40+ hours a week and is often exhausted when he comes home. It's hard for him to take care of me too. Often I feel, honestly, that if I could just remove myself from life altogether, that everyone would be better off. I'm honest about these feelings with those I am close to in life, but I'm also often reassured that life would not, indeed, be better off without me. But it is hard starting each new day in old pain, the signals in my brain a jumble, my body aching, and needing to immediately reach for a needle to inject myself with medication just so that I can drag myself to work. Then, I come home from work and struggle not to fall asleep because naps are a Migraine trigger, and yet at bedtime I must take a handful of pills just to be able to sleep throughout the entire night without waking. Repeat, ad nauseum. There is a certain spectra of ignorance when an individual states they want to die - which should be met with patience and an attempt to understand the situation better, instead of a complete meltdown of biases against suicide and a "me me me my feelings" attitude. This situation is not about you, it's about the individual suffering.

That being said, it's hard to do. I've been on the other end recently myself, though I will not share details. We're all guilty of jumping to assumptions.

Bipolar spectrum disorders run in my family. I have been diagnosed with clinical depression. When I wrote that sharepost in 2008, I'd been on several anti-depressants by then, and I still had more to swap to after that. In March of this year, my husband and I had been facing seemingly insurmountable odds as far as finances go, and I'd just been swapped to a new anti-depressant because the other had stopped working after two years of success. It no longer controlled my anxiety. In any case, one Sunday over a particularly difficult menstrual cycle as far as Migraines go, I had a manic episode that was, in all actuality, caused by the new medications. The next day I was in supreme pain, and I'd decided I was going to go home from work and kill myself. I called my mom to tell her my intentions, and she came over to my home to take me to psychiatric admissions, and yes, I'd plotted out my suicide. However, thanks to Migraine (oddly enough), I was out of the hospital within 36 hours and resting at home, where the severe Migraine finally broke and life seemed a little clearer to me. My medications were dropped. I never heard from my psychiatrist ever again and that's a mixed blessing. I no longer take anti-depressants of any kind, and while I will continue to shun them for a time, there may come a moment when I need them again. I don't look down in people who need them or take them either; but for me, I needed a break, and at this time, I do not need them.

The thing is, no one addresses these issues in response to chronic pain sufferers. We often talk about how this part of the population slips through the cracks as far as research, education, and treatments go, but rarely is suicide or the thought of intentions broached. We all know the phrase “if someone wants to kill themselves, they will find a way to do it,” but from a chronic pain standpoint, Kelly's adage of “I want to live, I just don't want to live like this” fits squarely between life and death. Chronic pain patients often don't have a disease that will kill them outright, but they are living on the precipice, having seen the next day on one hand and peace on the other. We have all heard about the athlete, the actress, the writer, the most active and positive individuals living with chronic illnesses and their strength to overcome, so why shouldn't the rest of us? The reality is, those spare individuals who live in that fashion are just that, the rare ones. They don't cover the rest of us, but they serve to give us hope. Unfortunately, hope is not enough for some sufferers. But peace is, and the best thing any one person can do when a friend, lover, or child has ended their life is to say, “they are at peace.” Not “why did they leave me?”

With these thoughts written down finally, there is always help if an individual needs it and is willing to take it. Talking to a support group, a trusted medical professional, using an online forum to connect, or other social media are all ways in which we can support one another and keep going to the next day. Passing information through the chain of contacts we have is important, which is something I will be striving to do myself more as this blog progresses. But I also prefer to write on my own topics because while information is important, so is knowing that there is someone, somewhere, who understands what you are going through, and to whom you might be able to relate. One of my favorite parts of volunteering at the NHF conferences this summer were the opportunities to hear others' stories of migraine while I checked them in for the lectures. This might not be the most progressive way of moving people through the lines, but these people want to be heard and above all, they want to be understood that what they are living with is very real, and very frightening to themselves and the people they also live with. The disease has the same name: Migraine, but the individual stories are as different as the star patterns in the sky, and each one is as new to me as if I'd never heard of Migraine before, or experienced it firsthand.

Before I close, I'd like to make a final point. It's OK to be on medication to treat depression. There is a great stigma as well in the world that someone with depression is just not happy enough, positive enough, or is not thankful for the things they have in their life. Depression is as real a disease as Migraine is, and it has nothing to do with not realizing how good your life truly is. People with depression know how good life is to them, and they don't take their relationships or material items for granted. Depression is an inability to function from day-to-day due to a chemical problem in the brain, and often lasts longer than situational depression (that thing you feel when you break up with someone after having dated 6 months, for just one example). Just as individuals with Migraine don't want it, people with clinical depression also don't want to feel the way they do, but they often cannot control it without medical assistance of some sort. There is no shame in seeking help, and it's my wish for everyone who feels the lowest of the low that if they do one thing in a day, it's to pick up the phone and call for help, and to most of all, not give up if it doesn't work the first day. Change takes time, so much time. There is no quick path to happiness, and I truly don't think anyone is 100% happy in life for any number of reasons. But there is always room for improvement, and it always starts by connecting to people who are ready and eager to listen to your story and take you into their hearts.

If there is someone you love (this includes yourself), that you know who may need help, please consider contacting the following: National Suicide Prevention Lifeline