MENTAL HEALTH
A Well-Meaning Therapist Kept Me Suicidal With This One Phrase
Latching onto the wrong info extended my dark night of the soul
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Warning — this story contains discussions of severe suicidal ideation.
My partner Eddie begged me, begged me, to at least talk to a therapist.
No thanks. I knew there was no point. I was done.
Just done. I knew they couldn’t help. There was no talking through this.
It was Covid days, November 2020 to be exact. Therapists had stopped seeing patients in person. Mental health resources were overwhelmed, backed up and struggling. In-patient mental health facilities had closed their doors, weren’t sure how to proceed. Securing a therapy session involved jumping through online hoops and forms, something a depressed and anxious person who hates technology doesn’t have patience for and doesn’t have any interest in.
In the lonely and isolated days of 2020, Eddie found himself suddenly stuck in a house with me, a pacing and anxious partner he didn’t recognize.
After a Thanksgiving night that found me on the National Suicide Hotline for the first time, then pacing all…
