I noticed a trend in myself this morning. I backpedal a lot. But only in situations where it’s important, and mostly when others are trying to help me.
I remember, when I did residential in 2010, I was there for almost 8 months. About halfway through, I was really struggling. I was having a lot of hallucinations and I was very suicidal. I wrote a note about it and put it in the program director’s mailbox. (That’s about as direct as a I get.)
I was summoned to her office to talk about the note. When confronted, I backpedaled. No, I wasn’t reallyworried about hurting myself. I that suicidal. (I’m not sure how suicidal you have to be to be considered a risk?) I wasn’t really having hallucinations. Blah, blah, blah.
Because I couldn’t be upfront and honest, I ended up not getting the specialized help that I needed, and my stay there was probably longer than it would have been otherwise.
I noticed this morning that I do this a lot. I put some information out there, wait for the professionals to react, then retract my statements. I don’t know why I do this. I did it this morning.
In my session this morning, I mentioned in passing how much I was struggling, and the finger indecent. He was, naturally (and rightly) concerned. He wanted to call an ambulance and have me admitted in the hospital to keep me safe. He was very worried about my safety.
So, I did the only logical thing, which was to downplay the whole event and to minimize the extent to which I was struggling. I’m, apparently, really good at this. I’m great at assuring mental and medical health professionals that I’m not really a danger to myself and that I’m not really struggling. And I convinced him. Well, at least enough that he didn’t call the ambulance.
He did schedule another meeting for Monday, but I wasn’t admitted to the hospital today.
The thing is, I do this with myself. I have thought every day this week, at some point, “if I’m feeling this way tomorrow, I’ll go to the hospital.” But when the next day comes, I talk myself out of it. I convince myself that I’m really not doing that badly and that I don’t really need to go.
Again, I don’t know why I do this. Maybe I should tell him on Monday…