follow-ups

. . . I had braced myself for a long, cold, bitter winter with actually little evidence or suggestion by meteorologists to justify that expectation. I was just pessimistically bracing for the worst, hoping for better and fortunately after those two cold blasts early in January, at least one of which was Siberian, it hasn't been that bad, spasiba. Daytime highs, which are my standard gauge of the days in general, have been up and down but never as cold and with plenty on the mild side. I looked back at what I'd written about previous winters and this year is no where near as bad as Taipei could get. My nerves and psyche would be shredded catatonic if it was like one of those winters, especially with no hot water. 

. . . I've adapted alright to no hot water, helped by no sustained cold winter temperatures. It's still not pleasant and I still bifurcate my showers, even when I can't siphon hot water from my neighbor, to minimize being under cold water at any one time. When I do tap his hot water, I try minimizing any effect on his showers by waiting until I hear his water turn off. I can still get sufficient hot water for my needs for a short while afterwards. Hopefully there is zero effect on his showers and therefore no reason for him to do anything about it. Interdependence in action perhaps as I'm being considerate towards him but for selfish reasons.

. . . That fine line between "showing restraint" and resisting alcohol consumption became a slippery slope of itself towards resistance and I don't think I've gotten too nutty about it. It's no great achievement, just preferring to lean towards not drinking when it comes to mind. But I'm not that strict about resistance and alcohol levels in bottles still steadily decrease, just not as fast. Under my new regimen of "can I say no to this?" I'm drinking maybe half what I was. It's probably more complicated than that. The effect on my gut was incredibly quick, though, improvement within days and I don't think it just happened out of coincidence. This is attributable to the alcohol drop-off. Do I feel any different otherwise? Not really. Can I fall back into it? Easily, I'm not fooling myself about that. 

. . . I'm willing to backtrack a bit on my disparaging suggestion regarding the mental health industry and their inability to treat something like "chronic suicidal ideation". My inability to even imagine how they would go about treating it is probably more indicative of my lack of imagination (and professional education and training) than their ability to target strategies for treatment for whatever comes their way. 

. . . Still nary a thought of going to the bank. I don't know if I've gone past the point of no return, whereby if I went to the bank today funds would not come through before current remaining funds ran out. I don't care, I'm not thinking about it. I'm assuming I'm past the point. I've been bracing myself mentally and conditioning myself to conjure and maintain cognitive dissonance whenever I feel comfortable on the day-to-day conveyor belt of habit and routine: This is not going to last, everything must and will change. Many elements in my surrounding life have already shaken up senses of perpetual comfort, now it's just me that I have to work on and just keep myself off-balance instead of being complacent about anything. With the external world I keep adapting and coping with disturbances and changes, but internally I have to shake things up myself and there is no adapting or coping, just acceptance. 

Koji's "WTF? I've Got Chronic Suicidal Ideation?" Blog

A couple of posts ago I mentioned I wouldn't be willing to go through even John's mitigated cancer treatment if I were in his shoes, and wondered if there might be anyone who wouldn't be willing to go through my life if in my shoes whereby my supposed suicidal leanings were treated as purely mental health issues. By total coincidence, I found a blog soon after by someone who seems to have a similar baseline regarding suicide and has dealt with it by taking the mental health/psychiatric route. 

Her blog description mentions something called "chronic suicidal ideation" which raised my eyebrows. I never heard of that and did a search to see if that's an actual thing and the jury's still out on that. It never even occurred to me that there might be a clinical term for how I am, and I have to admit that does pretty much describe it. It's just a fancy-schmancy term for "thinking about suicide or committing suicide often, if not all the time", and to me the implication is that it's just there as a condition. In contrast, suicidal ideation that is not chronic is triggered by something, certain conditions in a person's life. 

However, I don't think that's the way the mental health profession sees it. It's not an independent condition that's "just there", that developed as its own pathology, rather it's a symptom of something else, usually depression among other possibilities. So they treat the patient for depression and impress upon the patient as being depressed and if the depression is treated successfully, then the symptom of suicidal ideation will go away. And truth to tell, I can't even imagine how "chronic suicidal ideation" could be treated otherwise, so I'm not faulting the mental health profession. 

That being the case, whatever "chronic suicidal ideation" is clinically would have little to do with me and vice versa since I'm not convinced I'm depressed. I amuse myself with the scenario of mental health professionals trying to convince me I'm depressed because I think of suicide or committing suicide often, if not all the time. That's just the way they think; not wanting to live means you're depressed full stop period enter send like subscribe and leave a comment. Depressed doesn't necessarily mean suicidal, but not wanting to live your life (under any horrific condition) automatically means you're depressed, no separation. John actually covers the absurdity of the mental health profession regarding "dying with dignity" suicide laws and depression.

Not quite so amusing is this blogger who thought of suicide and identified with it at the tender young age of five before all the psychological ramifications could be understood or appreciated from a developmental point of view. I don't know yet what happened after that realization, but perhaps as she got older she was bothered by the thoughts and sought psychiatric counsel who promptly pidgin-holed her as depressed, treated her as depressed, thereby convincing her she was depressed. I have to be careful not to sound too critical or cynical because maybe she is clinically depressed. If an alternative was to turn out like me, I can't really say I'm in favor of that either (except for myself, of course). 

I'm only at the start of this person's blog so I only have a slice, a myopic glimpse of 10+ years of her blogging and I'm not saying anything beyond this little that I've read. Trying to be as safe and objective as possible, no judgments, at the beginning of the blog (2009) among the other things happening in her life: 1) she's seeing a psychiatrist; 2) she regularly takes meds which are constantly being tweaked and dosages adjusted; 3) she sees herself and identifies as mentally ill. She's crazy, and sometimes I have to remind myself to read her through that filter which I hope is not patronizing or condescending. 

I'm not going to comment or suggest anything regarding her condition possibly having been perpetuated by the mental health profession telling her how she should view herself. Oh whoops, I just did. But really I'm not drawing any conclusions and, again, maybe the mental health professionals are right in how to treat her. 

I'm just glad I wasn't shunted into the mental health juggernaut. I'll take my chronic suicidal ideation as it is without the help and hope of recovery through psychoanalysis and a cocktail of big pharma prescription drugs that psychiatrists are probably paid to push, thank you. Help, sure I'm hypothetically open to "help" if chronic suicidal ideation is addressed as the primary condition, but otherwise I'm not willing to submit to their normative formulations that depression has anything to do with it. They'd probably tell me to go back to the monastery then! Fair 'nuff. That's probably the only advice from the psychiatric profession that I'd take seriously.

I wasn't at all serious when I rhetorically pondered someone not willing to go through a lifelong fixation with suicide, implying they would've committed suicide already. And it really was coincidence that I found this person's blog. I'm still trying to make my way through it, but it's a bit of a slog for various reasons. It did, however, answer my rhetorical question. She took the psychiatric path treating chronic suicidal ideation as a purely mental health issue and she didn't commit suicide. She accepted being depressed and being prescribed drugs to deal with it. So is it also safe to say . . . she wants to live? She constantly thinks about suicide, but also wants to live? Or is that me? That's rhetorical, too, since if I wanted to live doesn't matter anymore at this point and I'm fine with that. On the other hand, there still may be people who were not willing to put up with it and did check out early, and not surprisingly there's no testimonial blog to be found. 

I'm trying a new approach to alcohol. For the past three and a half years, I've drunk the same way every day in the name of "cutting back" at the time. I allowed for one-third of a bottle per day (measured out, basically a ration), two beers, and some dipping into reserve bottles after the third of a bottle was done.

The drinking schedule would begin around 10 or 11 at night enjoying a beer, followed by the third of a bottle of gin or vodka. I'd pour into a shot glass and sip it by halves or thirds. By 2 a.m. lights out, I like to have left at least a shot in the bottle for the next day and the satisfaction of showing restraint in not finishing off the ration. The next morning I could have a beer around 11 or noon and then finish the third of a bottle. After that I could dip into reserve bottles (scotch), which would be restricted by my leaving for the afternoon around 1:30 p.m. That would be maybe 2 or 3 shots at most. 

But something I noticed recently was that this strict rationing had also become a license, encouragement even, to drink. Sometimes I'd get to the times when I usually start drinking and I'd start drinking because it was time I could start drinking, not because I necessarily wanted or had the impulse to. And of course once started, it's down the slippery slope. You could sooner stop a fat German boy in lederhosen after shoving strudel in his face or Alice going down the rabbit hole after taking a tab of acid.

So the new approach is if I've been getting along just fine through my night or morning without even thinking about alcohol, don't start just because I can. If I'm fine without, just stay fine until it does beckon and I "really want it". I'm not sure what that means yet. I think if I notice I'm actively resisting, that means I really want it, and I can just go ahead. Resisting like that just creates a mental complex and who needs that? I don't need another thing to be nutty about. It's a fine line between resisting and "showing restraint". 

I wonder about my motivation for doing this and whether it has anything to do with my funds imminently running out, ostensibly ending my life as planned. I wouldn't put it past my thinly-veiled subconscious. Maybe the less I drink, the less I spend money thereby adding a few weeks? I dunno, it's possible but I hope it's not that crass or desperate. I hope I don't hang on spending every penny before I realize what I have to do in accordance with how I've set my life up. It may come down to that knowing me, but I hope not. There is an even worse scenario (accounted in a Buddhist fable) whereby I run out of money and still can't do it but that's another story, nevermind. 

Another possible subconscious motivation is accepting that alcohol has decidedly failed to kill me (unlike before where it failed to kill me but there's still hope!), so . . . may as well cut down even further? That sounds weaker than the money theory. If the drinking schedule isn't making me miserable and is manageable, why change it? Or maybe I'm testing mindfulness practice as a tool for tackling alcoholism? Sorry, "alcohol use disorder" I think they're calling it these days, good grief (*insert facepalm emoji*). I've always held the belief that I could stop drinking if I wanted to just through mindfulness practice. But no, if this were the case it wouldn't be a subconscious motivation but a conscious decision. 

Actually that "why change it?" question may be more onto something. And that's the wrong question, rather why not change it? If I'm really facing the end of my life with the end of finances within a few months, everything's changing! My conscious mind wants to maintain normality and keep the day-to-day conveyor belt going, but that's a reality that is untenable. My subconscious mind (i.e., the "universe") may be telling me to shake things up and get rid of ideas of normalcy and stability for my own good. That does make a lot more sense. It's not just alcohol, but other things in my habits and routine and even external life and health have been getting shook lately and it's always off-putting or annoying and requires adjustment. I don't like it, and that's the point. I don't like it when the conveyor belt gets disrupted, but that's where a wrench needs to be thrown.