Trigger Warning: This content contains descriptions of self-harm and suicide attempts. It may be distressing or triggering for individuals who have experienced similar challenges. Please proceed with caution and prioritize your well-being. If you’re currently struggling, consider reaching out to a mental health professional or a trusted individual for support.

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Content Warning: Triggering Content

Hey, almost everyone in day care has made a significant suicide attempt. I find myself comforted and impressed by how some people have really invested in their suicidal attempts. Someone young and cute managed to get his hands on phenobarbital, vomited, and was on the fifth floor for two weeks. Another person, an electrical engineer, tried to electrocute herself, and another tried to cut her wrists, but really invested, not just superficial scratches and surface cuts. In relation to them, I feel like I wasn’t serious enough and didn’t really invest. I just thought and planned. And that’s the truth, the process that really helps, just talking openly about this suffering, it purifies, it creates real closeness between people, meaningful relationships.

How are you? What time are you? I guess I can still write to you, even without you responding. I feel like I already know who you are. You abandon people, women, places. And I know who I am. I’m the perpetual abandoned one. The fact that you leave places, people, and women still doesn’t make you a bad person.

Yet you’ve become a doctor. Someone who suffers when others suffer. Someone who tries to alleviate. The relief that intimacy can provide is momentary, like the same relief marijuana can provide. I probably had an unrealistic illusion that if the libido returned and I managed to think thoughts that were not reminiscence, then I probably healed. And no, that’s not how it is. What I have is the group of people who are lost in day care and the treatment with Ascamine, which is expected to be approved within a day or two, as Dr. Bedarna said.

Trigger Warning:

The following content contains discussion of mental health treatment and experiences with therapists. It may be distressing or triggering for individuals who have experienced similar challenges. Please proceed with caution and prioritize your well-being. If you’re currently struggling, consider reaching out to a mental health professional or a trusted individual for support.

“For too long, my therapists have recommended that I write things down, down to every dirty detail. They said it’s therapeutic, that it promotes recovery. The psychiatrist in the closed psych ward, the therapist in Tamar Center for Survivors of Sexual Abuse, my treatment coordinator, my friend, and even the bibliotherapist all advised me to do so. However, when I actually try to do that, ChatGPT censors my content

“I should probably not write to you at all. In 2022, you ghosted me after I was sure that we were getting serious. It crushed me. I really liked you. Then, you made a comeback, but I already knew that you’re no good for me, that this isn’t a healthy relationship. You create a false sense of intimacy and trust. I share everything with you; we have intercourse, and then you disappear. I don’t even know how you had the nerve to attempt a comeback two years later. Now that you know that I’m bipolar and a patient at daycare, you should have been more cautious with my feelings, not giving me this vibe of abandonment and rejection, yet you did.”

It seems you’re exploring some complex feelings and experiences. Let’s ensure the grammar is correct:

“You are quite an established psychiatrist, and I am a patient, not your patient, of course; that would be unethical. You’re not even the first psychiatrist I’ve had sex with. Of course, that one wasn’t my psychiatrist either. Maybe it’s some sort of fetish for male psychiatrists to sleep with other psychiatrists’ patients.”

It sounds like you’ve been through a lot of emotional turmoil. Let’s ensure your message reads clearly:

“It didn’t end well with that one either. I ended up falling in love with him deeply. He had such great compassion, but he didn’t love me. I got very angry, and perhaps I destroyed his reputation by telling everyone what happened between us. I used to write to him a lot, and he would read everything too. I don’t think he even did me wrong. I was just angry over his rejection, and I didn’t mean to take revenge on him at all.”

I understand your need to express yourself through writing as a form of self-help. Here’s a rephrased version of what you wrote, with a vibe of distancing:

“I’ve come to anticipate the inevitable outcome of reaching out to you directly, a response that echoes coldness and distance. It’s as if there’s an unspoken plea in the air, urging you to gracefully exit my life. So, do me the favor I can’t seem to ask for directly—just disappear from my world.”

“I know why I get this detached vibe from you. We had an erotic video chat a few days ago. I saw you touching yourself, heard you moaning and climaxing. It happened two days in a row, and I guess that level of intimacy is too much for you.

Continuing from where you left off:

“Now is a good time to consume my prescribed clonazepam. I should be cautious with it because it’s an addictive substance, and I should taper my dose from 2mg to 1.5mg.”

“It takes about half an hour for clonazepam to kick in. I drank three cups of coffee too, so it will take time until I calm down. Anyway, when I turned 40, I started having my midlife crisis. I no longer felt sexual, beautiful, or attractive. I felt like I had become invisible to men—old, full of wrinkles, and fat. I couldn’t bear to look at myself in the mirror. Then you came, and you called me gorgeous, astonishing, beautiful. You saw me. You helped me feel more comfortable within my own body, and for that, I need to feel grateful to you. I shouldn’t expect anything more than that.”

“To want more from you, that would be greed. You don’t have a girlfriend. You struggle with intimacy. What we had was probably more than enough for you. You don’t want to become a therapeutic friend of mine. You don’t want to break the image of me that you have created in your mind—just an attractive woman.”

“That is not true love. I know what true love means. Your silence speaks volumes. And true love is something I actually experienced. It wasn’t mutual, but I know what love is and what it means to be loved. It was with Charly, my best friend who died from a heart attack four years ago. He was sweet, kind, and innocent. He loved me even when I was almost catatonic, through all my struggles, in the good times and in the bad times. I felt so guilty for not being able to love him back the way he loved me. I still miss him. I still grieve for him. I don’t believe I deserve to be loved any more than I already had.”

“My ex-husband, he also loved me dearly. He did everything he could to make me feel better, to make me happy. He would cook for me, make me laugh, keep me company all the time. But he couldn’t handle my manic episodes. Now, he is thriving with his girlfriend; they’ve been together for five years. He graduated from a scriptwriting degree and landed an award to produce his first feature. He lost weight, seems much happier with her, and I feel sorry that I was too selfish and self-centered to help him pursue his own dreams. He now also runs his own successful business. I wish him all the best.”

Dating in your forties presents challenges for many reasons. Additionally, it’s difficult for a woman with severe mental illness to find a partner. Nobody wants to become a partner who is also a caregiver. Forming new meaningful connections is all that I can hope for right now.

“That brings me back to the very beginning. I’m writing, not spending all my time sleeping or watching TV or staring at the walls for hours. I’m writing, and I enjoy it. That should be more than enough for me today. There’s a long holiday now, no daycare. On Sunday, I’ll go back to the group therapies, spilling my guts out and listening to other people who battle with depression. It’s good that I let it all out for now. Now I can focus on the other things that I wanted to write, that aren’t too personal. I have great plans for today.”