Wednesday, 20 August 2014

Trust, Confidentiality and Bus Driving Monkeys

It’s funny how trust works.
The Guru (aka my psychologist) in what I suppose was sheer desperation told me something in confidence about experiences in her personal life today. It gave me some insight and perspective – which I guess was her intention – and it also deepened the trust I have in her.

Prior to The Guru (and now apparently the citizens of the internet) I have never actually told anyone the whole truth about everything before. I know it is her job to listen, but she is very easy to talk to and I feel that I can trust her. I also feel like I am slowly re defining the way I view the definition of trust.
Up until now my version of trust would have been strictly limited to me being able to say whatever I wanted and The Guru’s job being to lend an ear, offer some advice and keeping my thoughts in her strictest confidence -not telling a soul, no matter what.

This particular appointment, I was having a pretty shit, depths of despair type day and the traffic on my trip into town was unusually heavy resulting in me being about 10min late. Now I can’t stand being late at the best of times, but particularly so when I am paying through the nose for it!
So needless to say I arrived and wasn’t in an ideal mindset, very depressed and agitated and I accidently ended up blurting out thoughts I wanted to keep private regarding my plans and actions towards suicide. Something I really didn’t want to do as I am petrified and paranoid about being hospitalised and thus stopped. (Yes, I do know how that sounds. Shut up.)

I obviously freaked her out a little bit, and after some further interrogation carefully worded questions she said she felt I was too ‘exit-ed’ from the situation and suggested that we should start thinking about hospitalisation. I resisted the urge to slash my wrists on the spot and informed her that I am not going to consider that for a second and it’s a deal breaker move for me.

She enquired as to why I was so hell bent against the idea and I told her the more socially acceptable reasons why it wasn’t an option, such as stigma and fear whilst omitting the fact that frankly I will not be stopped, I will go out my way and that I have a permanent contingency plan in place anyway should anyone try and force hospital on to me involuntarily. (No, I’m not a control freak at all….)

Of course I would rather go out on my own terms in accordance with the 365 plan, but I do have the ability and the will to take immediate measures to ensure my desired final outcome if such a situation should arise.

At that point she said she wanted to call The Better Half and talk to him about how serious this was getting. Also a deal breaker move for me (I purposely didn’t sign the consent form for disclosure when I first started seeing her). My pain is just that, mine and I can’t risk others finding out about it.

Then I think she must have reached deep down in her psychological bag of tricks as she went through every “talk down” scenario in the book including telling me her private story and even trialling the whole – ‘fine then, run away to Ireland and never come back, but just don’t kill yourself!’ line.

She did say that if it comes down to it, she will have to make the decision for me and used the analogy: A monkey might be having a great old time and think it is quite capable of driving a bus but when it comes down to it, the zoo keeper is not going to let a monkey drive a bus, because well frankly, it’s a monkey.

Metaphorically speaking of course I’m the bus, she’s the zoo keeper and I suppose the monkey is my deemed ‘not so sane’ mind. – I like monkeys, they’re cute.

I then spent quite some time convincing her that I was too chicken shit to go through with it at this point anyway and even fessed up about the recent failed attempt to stress the point – omitted the fact that I have changed “how” plans now anyway since everyone has become aware of the bipolar I don’t feel the need to cover up a suicide to look like an accident anymore but accidently let slip how angry I was at myself for failing.

I lied a lot, and after nearly double the appointment time The Guru let me go home. She didn’t look too confident with her decision and I feel like adding in here quickly that if you happen to know me IRL and are reading this after the fact, DO NOT SUE HER, she is an awesome Psychologist who did all that she could have done in the situation and ended up making me feel so much better that by the time I left I was able to go to work for the rest of the day.

Ironically I returned from work that night to find My Better Half in bed barely able to breathe, that chest infection had become a nasty pneumonia and so I spent the night at the hospital after all looking after him.

Now a few days on, in another blur of hypomania I assume caused by lack of sleep (damn ER wait) I have been thinking quite hard and I really feel that I can trust her to make the right decisions for me, even (as hard as it is for me to admit right now) that she might have to make those decisions I disagree with if or when I am not able to anymore.

I don’t think that is a kind of trust I have ever been able to put into anybody since I was 14yrs old.

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