Well, the slight downturn I told you about a few weeks ago is still turning down. The suicidal thoughts have not gone away, and have actually gotten worse.
I’m really focused on my weight and body image right now, and that is really making me think about suicide.
It seems irrational, obviously, suicide isn’t a rational response. But my line of thinking has been somewhat near the following:
You’re fat and ugly. You could go to the gym and put in the hundreds of hours required to lose the weight but you will just gain it back once you stop working so hard. You aren’t good enough to stay committed for life. So why bother? Even if you weren’t fat, people wouldn’t like you anyway. People find you annoying, a know-it-all, and a prick. Those are the personality versions of being fat. At least most fat people are likeable. There is nothing you could ever do to improve upon these facts.
When I try to balance these thoughts with some reason, I get these thoughts:
People are lying to you because they have to be around you. No one likes you, especially not your family or friends. You’re fat.
In general, there are two people in my life that really make me feel this way. I won’t name names, because I don’t want to call anyone out. And, because they probably aren’t doing or thinking or feeling the way I think they are. It is most likely all in my head. But there it is.
I haven’t necessarily been depressed. But the euphoric state I was in following my treatments is long gone. I am back in a reality that includes my discomfort with my body. My entire life I have been uncomfortable in my own body, even when I was skinny. It is much worse now that I look the way I look, but it has always been a part of my life. I always waited for the day that I was married with kids when I wouldn’t care about it anymore, because I had made it or something. But I am there and I care more now than I have maybe ever.
It isn’t just my weight either, although that is the biggest issue. I have psoriasis, mostly on my scalp and under my nails. I have had it my whole life, and it generally isn’t a big deal. But for some reason for the last couple months I have had huge plaques right above my ears. I put off getting a haircut for months because I was embarrassed. And when I finally did get a haircut, she scraped them open with her comb, made them bleed, and said “ew, gross”. Aside from the psoriasis, I have eczema and dry skin. I get patches in the ‘hot zones’ of my body, like my armpits. This has been happening since I was a little kid as well. It doesn’t normally bother me, but it has gotten much worse over the last couple of years as a side-effect to taking lithium. And just over the last two weeks I have developed literally dozens and dozens, upwards of 60 pimples on my body, mostly my right leg and arm. I have no idea why.
None of those things, on their own (except being fat), is really a big deal to me. And normally I never even think about it. It is how I am and that’s fine. But it feels like it is just piling up on me at the wrong time. And my brain always wants to escape situations like that, and the easiest escape is suicide.