Since my diagnosis in September 2011, I have attempted suicide three times by overdosing.
Why doctors fail to recognize how emotionally devastating this disease is is incomprehensible to me. Why doctors have never asked me how I am handling my disease emotionally is disturbing. Yes, I realize they are not my psychiatrist. I realize they are not the person I go to to talk about my mental health woes. But when I go to my therapist, she asks me each and every time how my inflammatory bowel disease has been to me since I saw her last. She may not understand IBD as well as I do, but she does understand how much of an emotional blow this disease is to my spirit every day. My doctors are so focused on taking care of my gut- and being focused on that is a good thing!- but have never once asked me if I see a therapist or a psychiatrist to learn to cope with the complex emotions of my disease. I don't know if there are legal reasons behind this (I certainly wouldn't think so) or are just trying not to blow off my disease activity as a psychosomatic complaint, but it would be nice if my GI would just ask me if emotionally, I'm okay.
For those of you without inflammatory bowel disease, recall your worst food poisoning or gut bug incident. Now amplify that by at least ten, and imagine living that every single day of your life. No, you are not allowed to stay home and be sick. You have bills to pay. One of my friends has hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of medical debt to pay, and she is in her early twenties. So now you're at work, in pain, miserable, gritting your teeth, and you need to use a restroom. You barely make it, and spend only ten minutes relieving yourself. You may feel pride at being so speedy, but now your boss takes notice, and begins to verbally berate you in the hall. Perhaps your coworkers laugh at you openly, and you cry in the break room because you're humiliated and dehumanized. On your lunch break, you "eat" a Boost plus, because it is all your stomach can handle today. (You're constantly worry about whether you are getting enough nutrition, if what you ate will hurt you later.) After work, you go to the pharmacy to pick up your prescriptions, which come with warning that you may develop cancer and die. Of course, you know that if you don't take your medications, you may flare and die. It is a game of chance, this disease. You get home, fall on top of your bed, and sleep without watching your favorite TV show, making dinner, or even practicing basic hygiene. But you don't even get the pleasure of sleeping soundly. You have nightmares, and finally, the nausea, the pain, or both wake you, and head to the bathroom to be sick, brush your teeth, and shower quickly, just to feel a little human.
Very briefly, that is what my life is like every single day (though I am no longer in a job where I am mocked for being ill, thank God). My doctors and I don't even consider my case severe anymore!
I rarely socialize, because I have such bad anxiety over food and bathrooms. I am such a foodie, and not being able to eat without experiencing nausea, pain, and diarrhea has really hurt me emotionally. People bond over food. If you're going on a date, it's usually to dinner. If you go to a holiday party, there is an abundance of food. You go to a sports game and guess what?! More food! Part of being emotionally healthy is creating and maintaining relationships with other humans, but doing so means that there is usually food involved, and that's not something I can enjoy without being ill. No one feels up to socializing if they don't feel well. Remember the last time you had a cold or the flu? Remember those body aches, chills, the just not feeling well in general? I live like that almost every day, with the added bonus of chronic diarrhea and nausea. How much did you go out with friends when you were fighting off your cold or flu? If you did, did you have fun?
It's not always the disease itself that gets me down. It's the things that come with it. Prednisone, which is a steroid used like a band aid to hold you over until your other medications kick in, not only give you osteoporosis, but also make you batshit crazy. You go through intense bouts of rage, sadness, anxiety in rapid circles. You can't sleep. Awful drug. You're too ill to work most days, but you have mounds of medical bills and rent is due. You can't be evicted and live on the street with this. You worry about who your next employer will be, and if they will be kind or monstrous. You worry about your FMLA forms that need to be filled out. You hate asking for help for your pain lest you look like an addict, so you just grit your teeth. You suffer nightmares and flashbacks from hospital stays and have been diagnosed with PTSD. You feel unattractive and the furthest thing from sexy with how often you need a restroom, and your self esteem suffers. You miss the things you used to do with ease: horse back riding, swimming, running, even holding a pen without joint pain. You miss being able to eat more freely; even if your stomach was always a little tender, you used to be able to eat without suffering anywhere near as badly as you do now. You hate yourself when you feel like a bad friend for canceling events with your friends. You have panic attacks whenever you call sick out of work. You feel guilty for being ill, because you see how worried the people who care about you are.
My suicide attempts, the depression, the anxiety, the bouts of self injury... it's not all related solely to my IBD. But I can tell you that I doubt very much that I would be depressed to the point of being chronically suicidal if I did not have IBD. I would still have mental illnesses, but they would not be severe if I didn't have IBD. I would be a happier person if only my body were well, but I will never get to experience what feeling twenty-something is like. I will always be sick. I will always hurt in my body and my heart. But I will always try to heal both my gut and my brain the best way I know how.
If you are suicidal and feel unsafe, there is help! Please call the National Suicide Prevention Hotline (USA) at 1-800-273-8255, and get to your local emergency room. If you suspect an overdose, call the Poison Control Center (USA) at 1-800-222-1222. Do not hesitate to call 911 in life threatening situations. Your life is worth something. Don't end it. If you are experiencing depression and anxiety, seek professional help through a therapist who specializes in chronic illness. You will be okay.
