Hey I’m flowing with the argument you’re defending, buddy 
Here’s the problem. Finding treatment for mental illness isn’t easy. I’ve been treated by a total of 4 psychologists and therapists in my time.
The first one was easy. When you’re brought into the hospital by friends because you’ve pretty much checked out of reality, the hospital assigns you a doctor. He wasn’t a good one – as I mentioned over in GD, he misdiagnosed me and kicked me out of the hospital after a week without doing anything to address the underlying forces which left me hospitalized in the first place. I also wasn’t the one looking for help because I wasn’t that connected to reality at the time.
I don’t remember any difficulties finding the second one, either, although it was over a decade ago. He was a very good doctor, and he did me a lot of good. On the other hand, I had to quit seeing him when my health insurance ran out. I also had to wean myself of an anti-depressant, but that’s another story, one worthy of Lieu.
The third one was a different story. I was out of work and out of health insurance. I was better than I was a few months earlier when friends took me to the hospital, but I was still in bad shape and I knew I needed to continue therapy. I was living on Oahu, at the time, and I called every clinic, agency, etc. on the island I could find, explained my situation, and asked about treatment. All of them turned me down as soon as they learned I wasn’t an alcoholic or a drug addict. I swear, I was close to pouring a bottle of whiskey over me, taking a swig to add to the swell, and, generally, faking being an alcoholic to get the help I knew I needed. Of course, being turned down everywhere I turned only added to the despair and hopelessness I was fighting, especially since I’ve a few issues, if not subscriptions when it comes to people refusing to help me. In desperation, after searching my apartment for anything remotely lethal, I called a suicide hotline. They referred me to a clinic. I said I’d already called them and been turned down. I don’t know who was manning that hotline that night, but whoever he is, I owe him my life. He told me not to call, but go and stay there until they did find someone to treat me. I turned up the next day with a pile of knitting and a good, thick book, and not only did they treat me, the therapist I saw undid a lot of the damage that had landed me in the hospital and got me to realize that I might not be the worthless, useless, unspeakably horrendous waste of DNA I thought I was. It was mostly talk therapy with Paxil prescribed and provided for free by the clinic’s psychologist who I only saw to get my prescription.
A few years ago, back in my home state, even though I had a good job and good friends, some friends pointed out I still could use some help, especially when it came to sorting things out with my father. I agreed; got a list of therapists covered by my health insurance, and started making some calls. The first one wasn’t accepting patients, although she did refer me to someone else. Neither was the second. After the third or fourth therapist who wasn’t accepting patients, I lamented to the friend who talked me into this that finding a therapist was likely to prove more stressful than the circumstances which led to me deciding to see one! :rolleyes: Finally, the sixth therapist I called was accepting patients and was willing to take me on. She wasn’t as close to home or work as I hoped, but she did wonders for me and got through to me in ways no one else had been able to do. I can’t praise her highly enough.
Depression induces a sense of hopelessness and despair. Trying repeatedly to find help and being turned down also induces a sense of hopelessness and despair. It still bothers me that it’s easier to get treatment for addiction than it is for mental illness, as does the lack of support groups for people with mental illness, but that’s why I started one. I know full well some of the reasons why people don’t get help for depression and part of me doesn’t blame them.
I’ve received excellent treatment for depression. The problem is, it took a call to a suicide hotline in one case and calls to six different therapists in the other case to get it. For those of you who say simply that people with depression should get help, please keep that in mind.
Now would someone *please * point me to a thread with happy puppy and kitty stories? It’s been a depressing morning! :rolleyes:
Respectfully,
CJ
threemae, I’d suggest the place for your arguments is the original thread, where we are discussing whether or not suicide is okay. Here, we are discussing whether or not msmith537 is an ass based on his dismissive comments.
Pitting msmith537 for being an ass is like pitting Golda Meir for being ugly. It’s a waste of time, there’s not a damn thing you can do about it and nothing short of major surgery–whether it be the mother of all facelifts or a frontal lobotomy–is going to change it.
Besides, he’s funny sometimes.
Who made you boss of everybody? Why do you get to decide that suicide is not a viable option for 99.9999% of the population. Who is in the .0000001% that it’s okay for?
mr.stretch has a disease with little chance of cure. He has already been through the only treatment currently available and it didn’t work–in fact he is now sicker than before. He also suffers from clinical depression. He can’t work anymore, he is miserable all of the time, and he is suicidal and has been for a number of years. I DON’T WANT TO LOSE MY HUSBAND. However, I’m dealing on the front line with this every fucking day and I’m telling you if anybody has the right to check out of this life now, it’s him. He stays for me and our grown kids–we are the only thing that keeps him here and it is a daily struggle.
So fuck right off, threemae. You don’t get to decide how long someone else struggles before they can’t take it anymore. And you don’t get to decide when someone’s pain is too bad for them to take, whether that pain is physical or emotional.
In what way, shape or form is it any of your fucking business what I decide to do with my life? Seriously. That’s a sackfull of arrogance you’re carrying around with you, buddy.
I was so pissed off that I left off an important point–mr.stretch probably won’t die as a direct result of his illness. So the ‘if you’re suffering from a terminal illness, that’s different’ out that some of you are so gracious to offer doesn’t apply to his situation.
I want to begin by saying thank you to everyone here who has understood, and tried to, where I’m coming from. I also appreciate those (like CanvasShoes who attempted to explain my rationale when I was far from it) who state their take on things and to the rest, my heart goes out for any of you all who are suffering issues that put you to the brink of this matter. Be it yourselves or loved ones.
All that said, I do also wish to apologize for coming unhinged last night. I stayed up and fought with myself to decide what would be my best course of action here. Continue to slog away at something I feel is important but that I apparently don’t have good control over my emotions about or just let it go and assume this is one of those things that is almost impossible to change someone’s perception over.
I decided that for now, after these threads have run their course, I’ll probably give it a bit of a break and hope to gain some peace about it in the interim. That way, at least I won’t be driving anyone else here as nuts as myself.
Ok, on to threemae…
I agree that we should do all we can and it’s been more than once that an intervention has saved my sorry ass. So yes, it’s imperative that we exhaust every means first. However, there has to come a time when that person is allowed to make a decision for themselves, solely about their outcome. Should it reflect serious, prolonged thought? In my humble opinion, yes. Should it take into account loved ones? Without a doubt, and even moreso if there are children involved. But once you’ve turned it over and over in your mind about 7 gazillion times, you have to operate on the best information you’re left with.
Again, that’s how I feel from having been there and done that. Repeatedly.
That’s the word that I should have been looking harder for last night! Dismissive. It’s what set me off. Not for myself, but for all the people who’ve come on here when there was not another single place for them to go and spilled their guts, possibly for the last time (be it from quitting posting or something more drastic). And for that jackass to just wave it off without acknowledging that there’s lots of pain that is evidently way over his useless head, well, let’s just say it didn’t sit right.
Was it worth an individual pitting? Nope. Out of his vast idiotic repertoire, that was extremely tame. Fortunately, I was going for releasing pent up frustration, not hoping that another 2X4 hit would actually do any good. Like UrbanChic said, it’s pointless. Although in the heat of the moment, it was cathartic. :eek:
As to whether or not suicide should “be on the table” in the sense that you mean, I suppose I feel it needs to be judged on a case-by-case basis, with the ultimate say resting with the adult. Now that might mean times when one isn’t of sound state of mind. Sadly, such is the nature of the mental illness component to this equation.
Better mental health care and awareness is obviously the answer. I just don’t think we’ll see much of an improvement in my lifetime though.
Thank you for that. It really does mean a lot, especially right now. And once more I apologize for coming across like a rabid dog on speed. It is hell. I can’t say anything better than that which isn’t trite, obvious and futile. What pisses me the fucking hell right off though, is when it’s not taken seriously about someone else. Me I can handle. Shit, I have awfool, my mother, to tell me on a damn nigh regular basis how I’m making stuff up or I’m lazy or whatever. Rolls right off these days. But for others to belittle/dismiss/etc., say, other Dopers over what the experience is just flat out wrong.
Those people should be taken to task, strung up via their genitals, have their toenails torn off, their eyeballs pierced with Sharpies and their mouths filled with sawdusted scorpions, and finally left in the hot baking sun on the Vegas strip for three straight weeks in August while fundies dance around them in pray, playing the Chuckwagon Gang in the background. And only after they’ve got third degree burns and have completely dehydrated, do we take them down and tell them to ‘get over it.’ Yeah, that’d make me happy.
And please feel free to talk as much more as you like. I think I’ll go start a GD thread specifically addressing the question(s) I posed that got this whole ball rolling.
I’d also like to tell stretch how very sorry I am for her situation. Just know that, for what little bit it might be worth, that a nobody on an internet message board will be thinking of you and yours and wishing you well.
So the Prozac didn’t help?
She’s right you know. I really don’t care. If a couple of off the cuff lines on a messageboard gets you that worked up, it’s no wonder some people can barely function in life.
The way I see it, you can either wallow in your depression or go find help. If not wanting to feed into someone’s self-pity and self-loathing makes me a dick, then I’m a dick…
If telling someone “hey stupid! go get some freakin help for your problems!” makes me an shithead then consider me an shithead …
…and if calling **faithfool ** a jerkass for opening such a lame pit thread makes me an asshole, then I will soon be an asshole as well.
But if it’s any consolation, you did change my position regarding suicide…at least for some of you (LaurAnge, CanvasShoes, others…)
I could almost have written that post. Suicidal ideation hasn’t been a major component of my husband’s depression, thank god, but I wouldn’t blame him if it were. I’d just be more terrified than I already am.
Best wishes to you.
Faithfool, you have a kind heart and a good brain and I understand entirely where you’re coming from. Yep, you should be worried. 
Hey, it’s easier than dieting and exercise, right?
And the way any remotely intelligent person would see it after looking at the previously supplied data, “wallow[ing] in your depression” isn’t what these people are doing. Looks like they’ve already done the “go find help” bit. Of course, perhaps your head is so far up your ass you can only see it that way, but I still think that’s not what makes you a dick.
Nope, once again, that ain’t it. Since you seem to consistently ignore all those who’ve gotten help, repeatedly, and it hasn’t done much of a goddamned thing, I’m assuming what makes you a shithead lies elsewhere.
I don’t mind being called a jerkass, especially by the esteemed and highly knowledgeable likes of you. What an honor. But again, that’s not what makes the label of asshole apply to you.
and
is what typically does the trick. Whenever someone who is as ignorant as you are posts such incredible insight, it’s hard not to call an idiot one when you encounter it.
Bastard.
Thank you. I consider that quite a compliment coming from a Doper I admire and respect.
And anyrose, please consider the source. I’m sure if msmith had a brain cell left living he’d use it up to consider the finer points of Beavis’ take on AC/DC’s last tour or the complexity of two-ply tissue versus generic paper towels. He has no desire to understand anything outside his own little world, so spewing non-sequiturs is his forte. I’m sure it makes him big and proud.
Cheers to your recovery, but the point is some people never do recover. They simply don’t feel better EVER. They don’t get the point EVER. Do they owe it to anyone to continue on with a miserable life?
Okay, shithead. People like you say to go get help, and then you make fun of someone for making an effort to get help. You’re probably one of those people who laughs at fat people when they go to the gym. Vicious cycle, dude.
I am saying it IS acceptable. Absolutely acceptable. I think others are sayng the exact same thing. Sad? Yes…but absolutely acceptable.
I agree, though with the caveat that some suicides are avoidable and should be avoided. They involve a temporary crisis. Even then I do not support forced treatment. I regret those deaths.
For others, like the cousin I’ve mentioned, suicide is completely acceptable to me. Very sad, but only because that’s what his life became. He was in torment–that’s the sad part.
Good lord, msmith, what’d you do this time? finishes reading thread…Oh. You were yourself again. Tsk.
No. The fact that you so enjoy taunting the people who suffer these problems is partly what makes you dickless. Real men don’t do that.
I do, and your lack of compassion for anyone that isn’t you or whatever insecure child you’re fucking is part of the reason, yes. Scratch that, I doubt you have any compassion for them, either.
Don’t be silly. You’re already an asshole. But that’s not what did it. Maybe it was your mommy toilet training you too early. Or your daddy ignoring you. Or those vague feelings of homosexuality that terrified you into banging every chick around just to prove how manly you are. Who knows?
Depression’s a serious illness and there are as many reasons for it as there are people who suffer from it. To say there’s adequate help out there that’s available to everyone all the time is absolutely laughable. When come back, bring qualified opinion.
Like I said, I’ve been there. I felt like I was never going to get better and I wanted to kill myself. Can you imagine being under 10 years old and already wanting to die? It’s not nice. I was diagnosed at 16, but didn’t get proper treatment until I was 23. Approx. 7 years old until 23 years old. That’s about 16 years of untreated depression. I’ve paid my fucking dues. And I’m not “recovered”, or “better”. I’m just finally stable. I learned already that clinical depression never really does disappear; you can only manage it.
I thought many many many times about killing myself. And you know the reason, the only reason why I didn’t? Because I knew the pain it would cause my family would be too much for them. Why should I make all of them suffer just because I was suffering? It’s not like I was terminally ill with something like cancer or MS that had no chance of hope. I was young and healthy and had a shot at a good future. Now, looking back, I’m glad I didn’t kill myself, because it really would have been a waste.
If someone is irreversibly physically ill with something where they’re wasting away slowly and a painful death is certain, then that’s different. But if someone is suicidal due to depression, it IS worth it to keep trying to get better.