After a suicide attempt

Caution: this post contains explicit discussion of suicide

Two days ago (on September 10th) was World Suicide Prevention Day. Although it is important to address prevention of suicide attempts, the strongest predictor of a fatal (or “completed”) suicide is a history of previous, non-fatal suicide attempts. The risk factors for suicide attempts are more diverse and include: family history of suicide, early onset of bipolar disorder, extent of depressive symptoms, increasing severity of affective [mood] episodes, the presence of mixed affective [mood] states, rapid cycling, comorbid Axis I disorders, and abuse of alcohol or drugs1

Most suicide prevention effort focuses on people who are naive to psychiatric treatment and have reached a crisis point: people who don’t already have a psychiatric point of contact, and usually people who have never been treated in an inpatient setting before. In my experience, most people do not continue using crisis lines or similar services after they have been hospitalized once. Surmounting the fear and stigma around hospitalization itself is a primary reason crisis lines exist. Crisis lines are staffed by severely underqualified volunteers, who are usually following a script, and only have two action moves: call an ambulance, or tell you to go talk to someone else (sometimes your health insurance company). Yet, people find calling a crisis hotline less formidable than simply admitting themselves voluntarily.

But what about those of us with chronic illnesses, with volumes of psychiatric history, who have been admitted many times? This service is clearly not meant for me. If I spoke to a crisis line on what to me is an an average day, I might find myself being dragged to the ER and with an $800 ambulance fee to boot. There is no exception for chronicity. The stakes of a mistake are high, and the crisis line operator is equipped with a high school diploma.

There’s a gap between services for first-episode patients and services for profoundly disabled people who live in an institutional setting. After my close-to-fatal suicide attempt about two and a half years ago, I had to navigate what exactly life looks like after a serious suicide attempt. I consumed an amount of lithium equal to the 50% lethal dose in rats, and an antidepressant that is also a potent anti-emetic (anti-vomiting) drug. I knew I would absorb more of the lithium if I delayed the onset of (inevitable) severe vomiting.

I was hospitalized for only 16 days. The attending physician treating me thought I should go to a residential treatment program, but I was supposed to be at an academic conference and I begged to be realized in time to go. The head of the clinic evaluated the situation and decided to release me. I was discharged within hours of my flight to Europe. After the conference, I was enrolled in a partial hospitalization day program. The official length of the program was 8 weeks; I was probably enrolled for 4 months. My psychiatrist met with me nearly every day.

We tried a lot of medications, but for quite some time I was not permitted to take lithium. This was unfortunate, because lithium is probably the single most effective drug I take. I have cycled through almost every atypical antipsychotic: Seroquel, Abilify, Vraylar, Zyprexa, Saphris, Geodon… I’m sure I’ve forgotten something, it’s more than I can keep track of. I tried Depakote and Lamictal. Nothing has the same effect as lithium. Ironically, lithium also has a specific anti-suicide effect.

I continued to be suicidal throughout and beyond the partial program. I am lucky that my psychiatrist works well with me.

Chronic suicidality is probably more common than people realize. It doesn’t appear in the media. It’s taboo. You fear to acknowledge it exists somewhere. When we talk about improving mental health services, let’s give a little more attention to the people for whom posting a status update with the s-word in it is reason to panic and report it to Facebook headquarters.

References

  1. Hawton, K., Sutton, L., Haw, C., Sinclair, J., & Harriss, L. (2005). Suicide and Attempted Suicide in Bipolar Disorder: A Systematic Review of Risk Factors. The Journal of Clinical Psychiatry, 66(6), 693–704. https://doi.org/10.4088/JCP.v66n0604