Suicidal Obsession

Dear broken forever,

your post really rang a bell. I have been diagnosed recently with something very unusual (there is actually no previous reported case in written medical literature), but I don’t think I am the only one, and maybe my diagnosis (and treatment) will help you.

I tell you my story first (the very short version), because otherwise nothing makes sense:

I started to be severely depressed and suicidal when I was 14 (I think there is a strong hereditary component to this, there is a family history of suicide and depression). My parents were splitting up at the time, that didn’t help.
I tried to commit suicide once when 21, while already with my future first husband. I survived, obviously, and got treated successfully for the sources of that depression (less than ideal childhood).

Unfortunately I married my first husband before I finished therapy, and he turned out to be bad news. For 12 years he abused me psychologically and sexually, but because my childhood had set me up to expect abuse, I did not manage to escape for far too long. The only good thing to come out of this marriage were my two sons, who by now are teenagers. I left him eventually, but have got severe PTSD from it, something I did not realise until very recently.

A few years after the divorce things really turned bad. My older son had severe behavioural difficulties, and despite trying all available avenues, I could not get help for him for many years. He was virtually uncontrollable, at times violent. I had to work full time at the same time, as the father was not paying child support, and I had no family support as my family all lives overseas. Their father was completely out of the picture at this stage. I was a good parent, I practiced good discipline, but his problems were just too much, and it was too much for me.

Other people in this situation may have turned to drugs or drink, or started to neglect their children. I did none of that, but something had to give. I turned to suicidal ideation. This would give me at least for a little while the phantasy of escape. For a little while as I imagined myself dying I felt free from this dreadful life which in reality offered no way out. It was at this stage, and this is the bit that I think may apply to you (!!!!), that I formed a “behavioural addiction” to suicidal ideation. It’s a full blown addiction, just like a gambling addiction for example.

This was only discovered recently. I have since remarried, and the problems with my son have finally been solved, he is a lovely and well adjusted young man now. I have a wonderful husband who loves me, no financial worries, two great sons, yet at the beginning of the year all the wheels fell off, and I ended up in a psychiatric hospital for being extremely suicidal for months at a time.

I got treated for my depression, I discovered about the PTSD and I think I am handling that very well now. But still I was obsessed about suicide, to the point where it led to a few very close calls. Like you I don’t want to hurt my family and that’s what keeps me alive.

But why I was still extremely suicidal was a mystery, until this diagnosis of addiction. My psychiatrist put my on Naltrexone, the stuff they give to heroine addicts, but it’s also used to treat all sorts of addictions, including behavioural addictions. It works by blocking the reward cycle in your brain by blocking the effectiveness of the bodies own morphines (endorphins).

The good news is It has helped hugely!

For the first time I realised that I didn’t really want to die, it only FELT like it because every time I thought about suicide I got that huge endorphin rush (from the addiction) which made me feel ecstatic. Without that endorphin rush I now can resist that siren call to suicide much better.

Mind you, I am relapsing at times, otherwise I would not have been browsing this website. It’s a long journey to complete healing. Last night I had to read for hours stories from parents loosing a child to suicide, just to ramp up my resolve to never do it myself.

Hope this helps, dear “broken forever”, or maybe somebody else.