Attempts at Suicide During Bipolar Depressive Episodes - My Story of Crisis and Recovery

Studies have found that 25-50% of people with bipolar disorder attempt suicide. Although this topic is a sensitive one, it is desperately needed in the public discussion. Suicidal ideation during  bipolar depression is qualitatively different from other types of depression, and people suffering from it need to know they are not alone, that recovery is possible, and crisis is survivable.

I. My First Attempt – Contributing Factors

     Many forces were converging on this country during the late 1960s and 70s, all of which were having a profound affect on everyone. The impact those years had on me felt like I was living inside of a kaleidoscope. Everything I’d been taught to believe in was suddenly being questioned, challenged, or turned on its head. The absolutes by which most people govern their lives and that gave society stability were being replaced with relativism and anarchy.

     Being undiagnosed at the time, my behavior reflected the chaos, confusion, and stimulation of that period. My life was spinning out of control, and thanks to my mood swings, I did nothing to stop the impending disaster that was coming my way. The circuits in my brain became so overloaded with information and stimuli that it was only a matter of time before I reached a breaking point.

     One day, everything came to a screeching halt. The door of my mind slammed shut, plunging me into a major depressive episode. My days grew darker, imprisoning me in a cell of pessimism and negativity.

As a result, I stopped attending my dance and acting classes and even turned down audition opportunities. I shut myself off from friends and the outside world, slept a lot, and ate less. Everything became devoid of purpose until all that was left was a gnawing pain unlike anything I had ever known. I just wanted everything to stop! To just be quiet!

     Walking into the kitchen one afternoon I stopped and stared down at the stove. “All I have to do is turn on the gas, lay down on the floor and the pain will be gone” I thought to myself, before acting on my thoughts.

     I have no idea how long I lay there before my roommate and friends found me and made arrangements to get me to the nearest hospital. I knew nothing but the darkness of sleep for the next couple of days.

     I was awakened one morning by an aid who directed me to the nurses station. My movements were slow and sluggish as I took my place in line with other men, trying to get my bearing in the unfamiliar environment. “What’s this?” I asked as the nurse handed me a pill and a small cup of water. “Thorazine,” she replied abruptly. “Now swallow it and get back in line.”

     Like a submissive child I complied, waiting for the aid to take us to the cafeteria for breakfast. Normally, such a group of people would have filled me with compassion, but I felt nothing. With no desire to eat, I just sat there looking into space trying to figure out what I was doing in a place like that.

     Some time later an orderly helped me to my feet and ushered me into a room where four neatly dressed people greeted me. One of them introduced himself as a doctor and told me I was in the V.A. hospital in Manhattan New York. He went on to say that I had suffered a “nervous breakdown,” and tried to commit suicide.

     Little was known about manic depressive disorder in those days, so a correct diagnosis was never made. The doctor asked me a few questions, then assured me that he and his colleagues were going to help me get back on my feet.

     The next day, when I was a little more coherent, my treatment plan for the next three weeks was laid out for me. It consisted of taking prescribed medication, physical exercise, occupational and group therapy, and academic learning. “They’ve got to be kidding.” I thought to myself. Nevertheless, I complied with the program. With each passing day I began to feel like my old self.

     About a week before my scheduled discharge I decided that the hospital, its programs, and medical staff had served their purpose. I was tired of the amateurish arts and craft projects together with the other “therapies” and I was bored and disinterested in the group therapy sessions. Unfortunately my doctor didn’t share my perspective, so I had to endure another week of “treatment” before being officially discharged.

Any question I might have had about wanting to take my own life became irrelevant and was dismissed the moment I walked out the hospital. I had one goal. Resume my career as soon as possible.

Within a week I contacted my agents and told them I had taken a brief vacation. I resumed taking classes, going on auditions, and took a job as a waiter until the next show came along.

Soon, everything returned to the way they were before my hospitalization, including my former lifestyle.

II. Subsequent Attempts

     Several years later, (again, before I was diagnosed) I made two other attempts at taking my life. Each time the following factors were present:

• Progressive forays into the dark abyss of major depressive episodes with lesser excursions into hypo-mania.
• The behavior of family and friends.

People suffering from bipolar disorder seldom look any different than the average person. On the surface there doesn’t appear to be anything wrong. Consequently, family and friends are often offended by the words and behavior displayed by those with bipolar disorder. In turn, they retaliate with unkind words, false accusations, name calling, etc. It is not uncommon for manic depressives to be labeled as lazy, irresponsible, selfish, ungrateful, and unloving, which only exacerbates the situation. For example:

     My former wife exerted herself in every possible way to help me through my episodes. At the same time she was tending to the needs of our children while coping with other demands on her life. Eventually the weight of it all became too much to bear. As a result we argued, became short tempered, and threw ultimatums at each other. The more agitated my wife became the more she criticized me as a husband, a father and a decision maker. On one occasion she screamed, “You’re not sick at all! You’re just using your so called ‘illness’ to take advantage of me!”

     Incidents like that frequently confirmed the negative image I had of myself during my depressive episodes which led to the false conclusion that the world would be better off without me in it.

III. Post Crisis Treatment

     Subsequent to being accurately diagnosed, my journey toward wellness included the following:

• Religiously taking the medication my doctor prescribed.
• Periodic blood tests to determine what adjustments, if any, needed to be made to my medications.
• Safe guards were put in place by my clinician to prevent a crisis.
• Creating a support system with people I trusted.
• Constructing a list of warning signs which included;
  1. Hopelessness – feeling trapped with no way out – no reason for living.
  2. Fits of anger or rage.
  3. An increase of alcohol or drug abuse.
  4. Withdrawing from loved ones and friends.

IV. What Helped When Suicidal Thoughts Arose

1. Compiling a list of reasons why life was worth living and returning to it when needed.
2. In my case, the primary reason for living was and remains spiritual and Scriptural. I remind myself that seeing death as the solution to my problems is a lie! The truth is, death is an absolute reality, with no “Do-Overs.” Scripture informs the reader that “It is appointed unto men once to die and after that the judgment.” (Heb. 9:27)
3. I put together an emergency contingency plan that included: calling the Project Help Hot line at 1-800- 329-7227 or the Veterans Crisis Line at 1-800-273-8255 (and press 1) or calling someone I trusted on my support team.

V. A Message of Hope for Anyone Who May be Suicidal

     As someone who has been tempted to give up when the darkness is darkest, I urge you to persevere, even when a voice inside you screams, “Its hopeless.” Don’t believe it. It’s a lie! Focus on one thing only – your recovery.

What has worked for you, or are you still struggling? Leave a comment below with your thoughts, or contact me if you'd like to talk with someone who understands the journey.