The Suicidality of Christian Wolff as told to Rick Wolff

April 21, 2018

Email String: Christian to Rick: Clonazepam

Well, I now have a text which states the clonazepam is ready. I went last night without and all in all, I got through alright. My sleep was not terribly different at any point.

I usually wake throughout the night multiple times without coming fully awake. I am then able to quickly return to sleep. I think the awakenings are associated with the fact that I sleep on my side now to counter obstructive apnea when I lay on my back. I think the slight wakenings are associated with a simple “turning over.”

I dreamt.

USUALLY, waking in the morning is a very unpleasant experience for me – frequently I feel suicidal. It is weird because this ALWAYS passes very quickly after I am up and getting around. I usually feel quite tired in the morning and though my energy level broadly is a thing to be addressed, this degree of tiredness, like the suicidality, improves quite quickly.

This morning, I felt all in all, LESS tired than usual, and this was a day without suicidal feelings and fairly light dysphoria. Mentally and muscularly I felt a little “numb” or “weak.”

So I tried to tease apart some factors and identified the fact that I might have had a slight hang over.

All this to say, I am trying to decide if I want to COMMIT to a trial period of going off of clonazepam. I figure a good two weeks for it to be entirely out of my system. Then I think I would want to go another couple of weeks observing myself.

I don’t know if I want to allow myself to “identify” nights here or there where I take it because my sleep is REALLY bad OR use any such nights as an opportunity to test my “sleeping skills” and ability to cope with a day after having not slept well if that should be the case.

Rick to Christian:

Or something in the middle, such as a half tablet.  It’s half life is around 10 hours and would be throughly out of your system within 48 hours or less.  But your body may possibly take ten or so days to kind of reset.

I rarely let the use of the word “suicidal” to stand unexplored as if everyone is on agreement with what it means.  I don’t think it usually means, “Death sounds like a great idea.  I would like to try that.”  Rather, it means that someone is quite miserable and that that they don’t feel that they can bear ______ any longer and wish to escape it somehow.  Lacking any means of escaping that are more practical, death may come to mind.”  So in light of this, say more about how you sometimes feel in the morning.

Christian to Rick:

Yes, I think death would be a good idea in those moments and I have passing thoughts of shooting myself. Then I get up and those thoughts go away and I know they will go away. Though I imagine myself doing it, I never imagined actually taking the steps to do it. Although I imagine a method, I never make any plans to carry it out.

Rick to Christian:

That makes me sad, Brother.  But you seem to suggest that the thought is devoid of affect or context?  At those moments, death seems preferable to  _________ (specifics) because I just can’t take _________ any more?  Is the source or sources of those thoughts addressable?  Why are the thoughts so fleeting on the one hand and so ominous on the other?

Christian to Rick:

The morning seems a time of reckoning. Leaving the inner life of might dreams and moving into the unkind social reality of the day. It takes an hour to move from the effortless emotional protections of the night to the effortful emotional defenses of the day. I am capable of making the transition, but defenses are not adjustments to reality. They are only stays. In the dawning of the day that follows, there will be some self recrimination for having squandered yet another “grain of sand.”

I have no sustainable income. I do not have a place of my own to live. No one is “hiring” “generally smart guys,” and I seem to lack access to the profession for which I’d studied. Although my work with HARBR is bringing about change, I cannot realistically return to Oregon to practice and other states will not license me because of my “record” in Oregon. I am at no loss for creative solutions but rationally or reflexively I have come to believe I will be punished for employing them.

Digressive, but in the email:

I am down at the nearby pub again tonight. That’s two nights in a row. I’d gone out to pick up the clonazepam just in case I decide to take it and just didn’t want to go back “home.” There is a guy in here celebrating his birthday. He’s about 60 – a young 60. He’s an okay guy but behaves in a way that is just slightly below his maturity and intelligence level. Last time I saw him, he was telling a story about being in Europe in the early 80’s. He said he was a model and looked a lot like Sting at the time. Going to a Police concert, people kept mistaking him for Sting, and he exploited it. Ha! Looking at him and knowing him to not be a “liar type,” it is a believable story. The music enthusiasts in here who tend to plug the juke box lack a bit of awareness about the has-beenness of reliving their “glory days by over valuing 80’s music.” Usually, this simply means the music kind of sucks and I have to just accept it as background noise, weakly nodding my head when someone wants me to be enthusiastic about Sammy Hagar or Styx. But just now, this song came on the juke box. I LOVE this song and it seems to fit the moment as I write this to you. Where the lyrics fail, the spirit carries. Nothing visual to watch in what I’m sending you, so don’t stare at the album cover. “Vienna” has some meaning for me. One, I have been there. Absolutely LOVE that city. Two, it represents a full return to the core if you want to think of Freud as representing the core (or father) of modern Western psychology. And three I would not at all mind living there. Maybe “Vienna waits for [me].”

Well, so that I don’t bloviate too much, I’ll just end this email here for now.

Rick to Christian (Continued in to April 22):

True, paragraph 2 describes significant obstacles.  It occurs to me that being “conventional” and joining the group/herd has always felt for you like selling your soul.  In that you are not what you do, are you open to any initially conventional avenues of revenue generation?  I don’t know specifically what I mean by that, only that I sense that you may have a priori dismissed potential options???

Christian to Rick:

If you haven’t your soul, you have nothing. People do not value their souls. They put vey little monetary value on them and will sell them easily for material goods whether those goods be that which is necessary for subsistence living or the avarice of “wealthy” men. This is at the core of the world’s troubles.

You assert that people are not what they do. This is of some comfort for people who need the comfort and can either not justify what they “do” or feel they cannot control it. It is also a nice alternative for those who cannot or will not bear much suffering in order to assure they are doing the Right things.

The world would be a better place if people accepted that they ARE what they do (or don’t or won’t) and instead, sought Right Livelihood.

You DO agree that the present “world model” is not working. We have been discussing this. When does someone get on board with this? When someone else sets up the structure? When someone else appears to accompany you? When someone else shows the initiative?

Down to You, by Joni Mitchell

Everything comes and goes
Marked by lovers and styles of clothes
Things that you held high
And told yourself were true
Lost or changing as the days come down to you
Down to you
Constant stranger
You’re a kind person
You’re a cold person too
It’s down to you

You go down to the pick up station
Craving warmth and beauty
You settle for less than fascination
A few drinks later you’re not so choosy
When the closing lights strip off the shadows
On this strange new flesh you’ve found
Clutching the night to you like a fig leaf
You hurry
To the blackness
And the blankets
To lay down an impression
And your loneliness

In the morning there are lovers in the street
They look so high
You brush against a stranger
And you both apologize
Old friends seem indifferent
You must have brought that on
Old bonds have broken down
Love is gone
Ooh, love is gone
Written on your spirit this sad song
“Love is gone”

Everything comes and goes
Pleasure moves on too early
And trouble leaves too slow
Just when you’re thinking
You’ve finally got it made
Bad news comes knocking
At your garden gate
Knocking for you
Constant stranger
You’re a brute, you’re an angel
You can crawl, you can fly too
It’s down to you
It all comes down to you

All That You Have Is Your Soul, by Tracy Chapman

Here I am I’m waiting for a better day 
A second chance, a little luck to come my way 
A hope to dream, a hope that I can sleep again 
And wake in the world with a clear conscience and clean hands 

‘Cause all that you have is your soul 
Don’t be tempted by the shiny apple 
Don’t you eat of a bitter fruit 
Hunger only for a taste of justice 
Hunger only for a world of truth 
‘Cause all that you have is your soul

Rick to Christian:

But there’s a difference.  Selling one’s soul means violating one’s rightfully oriented conscience and purpose, which is different than going against one’s pride.  Working as a nurse in a huge hospital system or as a teacher in the Chicago Public Schools may feel like selling out to some people.  To others, they turn it into a calling to shine light into the broken systems of the world because they are focused on the people they serve rather than on the flawed institution in which they serve.  Sure, if you can go further and reform the system itself, then awesome.  But to refuse to participate if you don’t land the lead role or have total autonomy may be more a sign of pride than standing one’s ground.   It could be more of a misunderstanding of the joy and meaning and sacredness of work than it is a fruitful protest against everything wrong in our broken society.  I don’t think that a joyful, willing, flexible adaptation to one’s time and context is selling out.  It’s identifying with other people in solidarity.  It’s working as a team at the steel mill until the bowling league (poetry contest) Friday night, and the family picnic Saturday afternoon.

Christian to Rick:

I really don’t care for your insinuation that this is a matter of pride. That’s pretty insulting.

You are moving past hearing me out fairly quickly and moving on to trying to fix my problem with the settlements you have arrived at in terms of life’s compromises and trade-offs. We conceive of ourselves as being realistic when we meet the point beyond which we will not (or believe we cannot or must not) move. We each have personal profiles which would likely offer some sympathetic views of why we stop where we do and say “This is as far as I can (or will) go.” SOMETIMES we find the work we’ve done on this ourselves to be transferable to someone else. It depends on who you are, who the other person is and what the viewpoint(s) is or are. But more often than not wisdom or solution is not transferable from one person to another. To increase the odds of sharing views and profitably exchanging views I think it best to first hear.

I do not deny you part of your point. I have worked “inside the system” and it is not without value. It presents a danger though because as long as a person works within the system, the system is sustained. The in-the-system changers are vulnerable to the belief that this is the only way to bring about change and that the change made within the system can be and must be enough. 

When I last worked in a clinic, especially in looking back at it, I realized that the only reason it was actually helping people is because the therapists there were “secretly” subverting the system. I also helped to create the clinic’s “drug-free workplace” policy in a way which I feel petty good about. It wouldn’t have happened if I and at least one other did not “subvert” the system.

Too, in ANY employment I would take, I would attempt to make the place a better place, even if I thought it was a pretty Rightful place to begin with. 

I will NOT get a job in a MH clinic because, if for no other reason, they will want me to be licensed, and at least according to the Indiana laws (which are paralleled by other states), I am not even eligible for licensure because I have had disciplinary action against me. I suppose I could put this to the test, but if I were a wise wagerer, my resources might be better spent on other wagers. It is indeed noteworthy that I have noticed a trend in recent weeks of states “thinking for themselves.” I have had reports of people getting licensed in states where the nature of their “transgressions” were actually looked with the other state’s (Oregon’s) disciplinary action pronounced to be “ridiculous.” I credit not just HARBR for this but the whole of the (disciplined) healthcare community visibly rising up.

At the beginning of this email, I wanted to say that this exchange we are having was waxing academic and that this was not helpful. But maybe it is okay. The present discussion started, I think, because I had mentioned mornings with suicidal thoughts. You did the right thing and did not let that slide without inquiry. So, I tried to articulate it. That was helpful – being drawn into the articulation. The mechanism of this help is that it facilitates in me an opportunity for a greater working mindfulness.

As difficult as those morning experiences are, I have not made plans to carry out the act, and, via mindful awareness, I KNOW the thoughts dissipate usually within an hour. I don’t care for the regular repetition of the experience, but … this too shall pass.

Someone once said to me about something, “That is not your place,” or “Stay in your place.” When I “hear” that voice now, I do one of a few different things. I might apologize to them. I might apologize to myself. I might look at my feet, look around me, and say, no, this is my place – I’m in the right place.

I am in the right place, I think. I’m not sure, but I can accept the down side of the place I am in because it is simply part of how the territory is. I am not going to kill myself, and I will find an income stream, and I will accept any compromises I choose to, or not to, make along the way. That’s the way it goes.

Email exchange wind down: From here, Rick tries awkwardly to back-walk and I try to “let him off the hook,” but I been to this point in dialogue with him before and I know when the usefulness and politeness of a conversation has peaked.

Christian to Rick (Not sent Rick as of May 1, 2018, but written shortly after the email “impasse” as I, Christian, decided to study this more closely and to writ that which is being read right now. It is as much for any reader as it is for Rick. Perhaps mostly, my therapist and I):

When I first awake in the morning and see the light of dawn through the window, I feel at peace. I feel safe. All I know is that this feels deeply peaceful and safe. It occurs to me to get up on a high note. It occurs to me that this is the right time to get up. Only slightly do I struggle. Only slightly do I let the fact that I cannot sleep the day away enter my mind, and usually, I fall back to sleep again. on the second awakening, there is no more “hitting snooze.” The conviction that I cannot sleep the day away is too strong. This is when the struggle begins. Because of the struggle, it would be impossible for me to fall asleep anyway. There is no real choice yet I desperately search my mind for SOME alternative as if today might be the day I find one, but I never do. Can’t face the day, can’t return to sleep, I think to shoot myself. When the alternation rate of do/don’t, can/can’t get out of bed becomes high enough, I realize the “alternative is just not going to come and I swing my legs over the side of the bed and sit there for a few minutes awaiting the next cosmic puppet string to be pulled on an arm or a leg.

I sneak two feet from my bedroom door and into the bathroom. I sit on the toilet, become fully awake and let the mental transition begin. Sometimes I make my attitude change and sometimes I simply wait while it happens, noticing. The success rate is pretty high. Usually, the transition involved a moment of inner exclamation. Silently, I have an experience of cursing and in my minds eye, I can see my bitter angry face and my full bodied kicking at the air – at the dirt. This morning, the exclamation moment was a silent scream – the kind people sometimes do into a pillow. It as not angry, it was more a scream of pain and of frustration and exasperation. Sometimes, it is as if I am trying to walk away from someone, and looking over my shoulder, I am saying, “Leave me alone,” of “Fuck off!” If as to no one, it may be “Fuck it” or “Fuck this shit.”

I finish the rest of a normal morning face washing, hair brushing, tooth brushing, med taking shoe tying routine, usually skipping a shower I probably should take.

I brush by my parents as quickly as I can so as to not let their mere presence bring me down. I say hello and have a good day. I grab two small muffins and sometimes a banana, and I am out the door on my way to my daytime safe place – Starbucks, and once there, open the lid to my most familiar friend – my laptop.

I struggle with doing tasks such as job search or HARBR work. Either are resisted by me, but when I do chose to do these things, I have a fairly good engagement rate, so I DO get things done. Other days, I just cannot make myself go there, each of these being simply too aversive, so I bide my time. I engage the other patrons more (which is never regrettable), or I do various other things on the internet. About half the time after struggling, I flat out give myself permission to “take the day off” with the goal of simply getting through the day.

Thus far, I have described a considerably regular routine. This is a routine which I repeat every day nearly without fail.

My time “out” is most of the afternoon. About noon to 5. For about 5 hours, I literally sit in this “safe place.” But this, I think is simply a natural limit for me. After 5 hours, I have to get up and move about or change locations or something. In looking at my late sleeping, it occurs to me, that I could not go to Starbucks earlier than I do because I could not be there for more than 5 hours, and in my morning state of mind, I think that I could not do other things because being alive and engaged costs money – money which I do not have. My Starbucks coffee costs a little more than $2.50 and I can get as many refills as I want for free.

I return “home” to have dinner with my parents. This doesn’t last very long and is reasonably painless. After eating, my father goes into his den and my mother does the dishes, reads a little in the same room, or does things on her iPad before watching two game shows on television. Then she joins my father in the den and leaves me to myself in the living room where I sit with – you guessed it, my laptop.

April 25, 2018: I had a session with my therapist and shared some of this with him. HIs response was similar to my brother’s emotional response which was to say soberly, “I am saddened to know that you are going through this.” we will discuss it further when we meet on May 2.

May 1, 2015: Tomorrow is my therapy session. I thought that sitting down with this document today, I’d be fulfilling my promise to make this available to my therapist prior to our session. I also thought I would add to it. Something I have discovered though is this:

When I talk about this seriously with a good listener such as my brother or my therapist, Raphael – even if it is through the written word in their absence, it puts me into a considerable emotional drop. I do not care for those drops. They are quite real to the extent one can say feelings, emotions, and moods are “real.”

The result however, upon recovery from these drops is a rise.

I still do not know what may exist in my darker unexplored recesses, but following my email exchanges with my brother and the drop that prompted, I have not had those suicidal moments in the mornings.

After my last therapy session, I experienced another drop and then, again, a rise above baseline in the recovery from the drop. I have nearly “trained” myself out of those experiences in the morning. That is the suicidal “thought-stop” happens so quickly, it is stopped nearly before it starts. There is still the dysphoria and the “get of bed” struggle, but these too are lesser in magnitude.

After our last session, Raphael also seemed to experience a “drop” – a vicarious drop. I hope he will rise as I rise and that he would rise even if I do not. But I will.

That is all I want to write about this for today. It is 3:45 in the afternoon. I am in one of my safe places with my coffee and my laptop. I don’t want to drop.