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Three options
Written by Sean on Friday, July 20, 2007
I have three options ahead of me. I can become a para, I can kill myself, or I can endure this torment and keep on going through life on auto-pilot.
Becoming a para is the most appealing option, but, as discussed elsewhere, it isn’t a particularly simple thing. Not like you can just flick a switch and *poof* you’re a para.
Killing myself, well… It would certainly make it stop hurting. Though suicide isn’t a viable option (pun intended). But in this, my dog saved my life. I was looking for stout rope a few days ago, and I realised that while it would devastate some of my human friends, the poor innocent bitch would be left abandonned with no way to undertand why I’d gone. I couldn’t do that to her. You humans, you’d deal with the pain, but the puppy, she couldn’t rationalise.
Enduring the torment seems the option I’m doomed to go with. It’s not a life. It’s surviving. Barely. I have a huge void inside me. I’m on auto-pilot, I go through the motions, because it’s expected, because if I don’t, my situation just might get even worse (though it’s hard to fathom worse than this).
Something has to give. I’m thinking it just can’t keep going like this. But a part of me knows well that it can. It has, in fact, been going on.
Here I am, comfortably arranged in a recliner, with a warm blanket over my legs, writing on the laptop. It’s nice and warm in here, unlike outside where it’s windy, cold, raining, and generally miserable. But the weather seems to echo the atmosphere inside my brains. My legs are there, most definitely there. I can feel a bit of a draft coming from under the blanket, I can feel the soft and prickly texture of the wool blanket against my skin. I can feel the warmth and weight of the laptop over my thighs. I can feel my ass against the seat of the recliner.
And then, there’s a huge void in my stomach area. Like a churning black hole.
And above that, my shoulders, which are tense and solid as concrete. The massage therapist I see semi-regularly is amazed, she tells me she’s rarely seen anyone with muscles so knotted up and tensed up.
And then, there’s my head, the mess that is my head.
I am pursuing my self. A sad pursuit of a self I know, yet am unlikely to ever meet.
Someone on a mailing list recently said that it is possible to get rid of BIID just by will power. They compared it to " being gay, wannabe amp, GID, BIID, alcoholic, workaholic, etc", and went on to say it wasn’t a "life sentence" and that getting rid of it was a choice (albeit a difficult one). I find that comment insulting, to me, and the countless number of other transabled individuals who have worked very hard to both understand and overcome the BIID feelings. I find it insultings to those who are gay, those who have GID, *etc*.
I find that as insulting as those people who say that you can just "snap out of depression". As insulting as those who tell paras that they aren’t walking because they don’t want it bad enough, they didn’t try hard enough. "If you really wanted to, you could walk by now".
And I find that attitudes like that really throw me for a loop. It’s hard enough dealing with these emotions by themselves, but when on top of it you have people who should know better make these sweeping comments, I figure there’s just no point arguing. "Never argue with an idiot, they’ll bring the conversation down to their level and overwhelm you with their expertise…"
Maybe option 2 is the best after all. But that still abandons my dog. And so I will hang on, rather than hang.
[tags]Depression, Legs, Paralysis, BIID, Body Integrity Identity Disorder, Will power, Transabled, GID, Gay[/tags]This entry appears in Sean's Thoughts, Thoughts. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.
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22 Comments
2 On 21 July, 2007, Claire said:
*HUGS* to both of you. I am currently not entertaining suicidal thoughts, but I have indeed been there before.
Option three is the most difficult, but it offers the most hope. There is the hope that someday things will get better. It’s a hope you can’t see now but just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean it’s not there. And you could miss out on the best part of the show if you leave early.
I know that back when I was where you were, if someone had said that to me, it wouldn’t have meant a thing. But that doesn’t mean it’s not true.
And I think you are underestimating the pain your loved ones would suffer. They would *not* get over it, ever. When someone you know kills themselves, you are forever marked by it. You can be distanced from it with time, but the wound never heals. The guilt, the “what ifs”…
When you’re depressed like this almost nothing matters but the pain you’re feeling inside. Not hope, not loved ones…perhaps only our animals because their loved and acceptance is so pure and simple and unconditional. Thank God for them.
Do you ever ask yourself though, “What if I kill myself and then somewhere down the line elective paralysis becomes available?”. That usually keeps me from dwelling on my malady.
Besides that, Neurostimulators are starting to push through, and it seems quite likely that within a few years we could have a very tweakable device which may well hold a key to happiness.
4 On 21 July, 2007, Sean said:
“hope”… “in a few years”…
You know, I’ve been hoping and waiting “a few more years” for 35 long bloody years. “It’s just around the corner”, well, the corner keeps on turning and I Don’t see it. Maybe there’s hope. But there’s a huge risk to end up having to endure another 35 years of this misery, and frankly, the prospect of *that* erases everything else.
I don’t know if this is any consolation to you but it means alot to me to read my thoughts in another persons writing. I have what I guess they would consiter a “not so extreem case”. Ever since I was a child I wanted to loose the pinky and ring finger of my left hand. When I was in fourth grade I put a rubber band around my pinky until it was black. My mother found the ruberband and forced me to cut it off before any seriouse damage was done. A few days later I tried to hang myself from my bunkbed. Oviously that too was unsuccessful. I had no idea how to deal with it and for along time it was suppressed causing seviere bouts of depession. Until it got to the point where I was afraid to even go into the kitchen for fear I would try to chop them off. Then I went on line and discovered that it is a real condition (from BIID.org) and that there are people like you guys that are willing to talk about it openly. I know it sounds strange but I feel like I love all of you for being here for me when everyone else thinks that I’m trying to get attention or just being morbid. I really can’t thank you all enough for dissplaying such courage.
raven
Two Irishmen walk into a pet shop in Dingle. They head to the Bird section and Gerry says to Paddy, “Dat’s dem.”
The owner comes over and asks if he can help them. “Yeah, we’ll take four of dem dere little budgies in dat cage up dere” says Gerry.
The owner puts the budgies in a cardboard box. Paddy and Gerry pay for the birds, leave the shop and get into Gerry’s truck to drive to the top of the Connor Pass.
At the Connor Pass, Gerry looks down at the 1000 foot drop and says, “Dis looks like a grand place.” He takes two birds out of the box, puts one on each shoulder and jumps off the cliff.
Paddy watches as the budgies fly off and Gerry falls all the way to the bottom, killing himself stone dead.
Looking down at the remains of his best pal, Paddy shakes his head and says, ” Dam dat. Dis budgie jumping is too bluddy dangerous for me!
Moment’s later, Seamus arrives up at Connor Pass. He’s been to the pet shop too and walks up to the edge of the cliff carrying another cardboard box in one hand and a shotgun in the other.
“Hi, Paddy. Watch dis,” Seamus says. He takes a parrot from the box and lets him fly free. He then throws himself over the edge of the cliff with the gun. Paddy watches as half way down, Seamus takes the gun and shoots the parrot. Seamus continues to plummet down and down until he hits the bottom and breaks every bone in his body.
Paddy shakes his head and says, “And I’m never trying dat parrotshooting either!”
Paddy is just getting over the shock of losing two friends when Fergal appears. He’s also been to the pet shop and is carrying a cardboard box out of which he pulls a chicken. Fergal then takes the chicken by its legs and hurls himself off the cliff and disappears down and down until he hits the rocks !, splat, he’s a gonna.
Once more Paddy shakes his head. “Dam dat extreme sports tis far more dangerus dan dey
would have you believe. First dere was Gerry with his budgiejumping, den Seamus
parrotshooting… And now Fergal and his bluddy hengliding! ”
Nowt to do with the topic, but it sounds like you need a bit of cheering up Sean (hope your not Irish ?)
Seriously though, you sound in a bad way Sean, maybe you need to go talk to someone face to face, there’s only so much we can say over this interwebnet thing.
However, Option 1 is most definitely the best choice. But as you say it aint an easy thing to do. So lets get our heads together and find a way, there must be one.
Suicide aint the answer. When i was nine my mother decided to end her misery by throwing herself infront of the 10:15 Express from Kings Cross. But all she managed to do was pass her misery onto her family. Someone else mentioned the scars from that stay with you forever, and they do, but not in the way mentioned above, but i wont go into that right now.
Ermmmm…….ok there’s something else i could say right now, but there’s a strong chance you wont want to hear it. So all i’ll say is how I have learnt to control how these desires affect me. Simply, i dont put myself in a position where the torment and frustration take over, i.e i dont pretend, and i try, try and try again to stop envisaging myself as a para, as well as all the other stuff like not reading about it, not looking at pics/vids of paras etc etc. It dont make the desire go away, but it does ease the frustration. But thats me, it will probably be very different for you. Its not like that pseudo psychological/religious bullshit mentioned elsewhere, i.e occupying your mind with something else in the hope it all magically disappears. Rather it keeps a lid on the emotion so it does’nt bubble over and cause problems.
So Option 3 is where we’re both at right now, and i hate the idea of living with it probably just as much as you. So my “advice” is find a way to control Option 3 yet find a way to DO Option 1.
Will
7 On 22 July, 2007, Sophie said:
Unfortunately the “ignore it til it goes away” concept doesn’t work for everyone Will. Many of us (including myself) get incredibly depressed when I feel cut off from everything that has a remote chance of bringing me relief. It’s like getting rid of that hope altogether.
Where exactly did i say “ignore it till it goes away” ? You mean the pretending ?, the thinking about it ? They are the exact things that increase the frustration a hundredfold for me which inturn leads to depression. I dont want to be a pretender or an imaginary para or even a wheelchair fetishist, i want to be a real para.
Simply sitting in my wheelchair has never ever brought any hope whatsoever to me, how can it ?. Relief ? relief from what ?, the frustration, the torment, the desire ?, the notion that by pretending i’m just a tad closer to being genuinely disabled ?, surely thats just self deception and getting close to the “fake it till you believe it” scenario. Or is it having other people think i’m disabled ? Personally I couldnt give a stuff what other people think of me, it is however important to me to know what and who i am.
So, pretending to be disabled whilst not being disabled simply does’nt bring any relief at all, it only heightens the frustration in me.
Yunno, if all i wanted from this was to live my life in a wheelchair then i’d do it, i’d go full time, with or without a disability and i’m sure i would find tremendous peace of mind from it, there’s nothing stopping me. But i’m not in it for the wheelchair, i’m in it for the experience of living life with a disability (and maybe a decent parking space !)
Incidently i did actually quantify my statements by saying they are how I cope with this thing and i did say it would probably be different for others.
There is one other option open to you. Acceptance. Accepting that you want something that you can’t have. Accepting that God did make you as you are, desires and all, and wants to use you as you are. I want to be deaf, I am not. I majored in deaf education and worked with deaf children for several years until leaving to raise children. If you want to continue pretending that is a choice you make. But channel your energy and time into helping children, or others, who are paralyzed. Live your dreams through them and help them at the same time. I loved using the kids FM systems and checking their hearing aids. Surround yourself with paralyzed people and be useful and find a goal for your life that includes your desires. If you are willing to contemplate suicide, please be willing to consider a positive purpose to your desires and give yourself a chance.
That’s a really cool story dreamer, thanks for sharing :).
Sean please don’t kill yourself. You are a beacon to this community and (no hyperbole here) the wisest person I know of regarding this condition. You’ve done a lot for us, and I’m sure that there is much more you can do. We are just beginning to get recognition from the medical community and society at large. A voice like yours is vital at a time like this.
The past thirty years may not have held much hope as far as getting what we want, but with the rapid advances in and growing relationship between technology and neurology a synthetic cure appears much more likely ot become available.
Already neurostimulators are being proposed. A tiny computer chip with attached probes which would be used to treat chronic back pain by interrupting the pain signal being sent through the spine. I don’t know how you could look at this and not see hope.
11 On 25 July, 2007, Sean said:
@Will, I am indeed talking to a therapist on a regular basis. We both acknowledge, however, that there is nothing concrete she can do to help with the BIID issue.
@dreamer, acceptance, yeah, well, that is something I’ve considered often in the past. it doesn’t come easy though. In fact, it doesn’t come at all. I don’t know if you’ve seen those, but here’s a couple entries I wrote on the topic:
http://transabled.org/thoughts/accepting-biid-two-levels.htm
and
http://transabled.org/thoughts/stuck-at-the-bargaining-stage.htm
As for helping others as a way to live my dreams… I *am* helping others. But it has no vicarious effect on me. Other than my “work” with this site, I am doing many, many things for people with disabilities (which I can’t list in public).
@Rorschach, I’m not going to kill myself. Though I’ve received private hate mail that told me I really *should* kill myself and do the world a favour and kill this website before I off myself! I do not want to die. But I seriously can’t continue living like this.
Yes, perhaps there is hope, perhaps there is a solution “right around the corner”, but right around the corner is too far. I’ve come to the end of my thether. But one continues to go through the motion.
If you thought I’d read your acceptance posts and say, “Oh, that’s why he’s in such a hole,” you were wrong. I am more convinced than before that somewhere you missed the lesson that we don’t get everything we want. You can hide behind labels and letters but at some point, I think you didn’t want to accept things as they are so you created the word “transabled” and now it is your excuse. You said yourself, “Acceptance…maybe cannot happen because of being transabled” Bologna! I wanted to help you and I still think God can help you, but you have to want to be helped and I don’t think you really do. That makes me feel sorry for you, not look up to you. I want to be deaf, I want to go back and choose someone else to marry, I want to be filthy rich. I can’t have any of these but they aren’t going to “paralyze” me. (pun intended) Your legs may not be paralyzed, but your soul and life are. I hope someday you find peace. Try doing things for people that you can list in public and be proud of. I tell my children regularly to “find your happiness.” No one can ultimately do that but you. Not therapists or internet connections or doing something to our bodies. I know depression is real, but there are cures that help you get back your happiness. You seem so lost and God does not want you to be. Give him a chance over suicide. Good luck with your life and I truly do hope you find rest for your soul while you still have a life to live.
13 On 26 July, 2007, Claire said:
Dreamer:
1 - you cannot possibly understand the hopelessness of clinical depression unless you’ve been there. I’m convinced that problem here is not so much one of transability but of intractable depression that makes the transability unbearable. Depression makes everything unbearable.
2 - you have absolutely no idea of the help that Sean gives to the disabled community in so many ways, but like he said, he can’t list them here. Trust me, he helps people.
3 - if you want to help Sean then I think the best thing you can do is to sincerely and fervently pray for him. He might never appreciate it, but as his friend, I will, and I’ll join my prayers to yours.
Sean, i did actually mean getting help with the depression. But if you have a therapist then i’m sure the subject will come up with her once in a while.
I/we were all getting a bit concerned i guess, you sounded really really low and i suppose we were all a bit worried you might do something silly, yunno !
Thank God for that mutt of yours.
Claire and dreamer, I join you in your prayers. Sean, you have done so much for me and for all of us. I wish you peace in mind without the suicide option.
16 On 29 July, 2007, Eric said:
Sean said: “Someone on a mailing list recently said that it is possible to get rid of BIID just by will power. They compared it to ‘being gay, wannabe amp, GID, BIID, alcoholic, workaholic, etc.’”
Boy, that gets me going!! These kinds of situations make me want to advocate even more and take that guy, put him in a dress, and make him live his life that way for a month. Let him see how great it feels to be perceived as something you don’t feel you are. But in the end, he’s probably one of those people who have been through that “ex-gay reparative therapy” things, the homophobe!
It’s powerful what can happen when someone who is afraid feels strong. They can either go the positive way or the a**hole way. I guess he flipped a coin.
maybe it’s just arround the corner, maybe. But not many people knows about BIID, nowadays it’s just a taboo. Days ago I thought it was just a strange kind of paraphilia, well I didn’t think too much about it but suddenly one day I had the strogest feeling I ever had of being stuck in a wheelchair. I search the net and I only found thigs about amputees but at the end I discover this page. I’m reading a lot of things there and I had the courage to post.
I’m not the correct person to talk about it because I’m afraid of sharing this feelings, but if all the world knows what is BIID maye could be a starting point. A lot of years ago the people who says that they were born in a strange body that isn’t theirs, the only thing they could do was clothing with the other gender clothes in their house or in the street when no one could recognise them. The current people thoughts they had a mental illness. But now they can change their gender.
I would like to think that people now is more open minded and the process of accepting in the society transableness doesn’t stay too long.
I wonder that one day I’ll bought a wheelchair, I’ll sit there in the morning and I’ll tell everybody “This is my life, the life I want to live.” and no one will complain, they’ll accept it. It could be good, but first of all I should bought a chair whithout my parents noticing it, and keep it in a safe place. Now the only thing I can do is wheeling throught the house in a office chair with my hands and the walls.
Sorry if my english it’s a bit confusing but I’m not an english speaker.
18 On 27 January, 2008, Sean said:
Lulu, thank you for posting. Don’t worry about your English :) It is very good. What is your first language?
I think society wants to think it is more open minded, but in fact, it isn’t. Especially because what we want is something that is often perceived very negatively.
Sean, you’re right… but I still think that in a few years or decades won’t be perceived as a negative thing.
ah, I’m from Spain.
20 On 27 January, 2008, Sean said:
Lulu, your English is better than my Spanish :)
I think that it will take a lot longer than a few decades for society to overcome its bias against disabilities. It is inbred to us, from the time we were all living in caves. If you had a disability, you could not provide, you were a burden. Millenias of such history will not be changed very fast. There has been a lot of advocacy from people with disabilities to change these attitudes, and laws in most countries, but it will take a long time still. Probably not in our lifetimes.
And until society in general fully, completely, totally accepts people with disabilities, those of us who wish/want/need an impairment are unlikely to be accepted. We challenge their perceptions of disabilities. And that’s not something most people are ready or willing to have challenged.
It could be because I’m still too young(starting university) my aknowledge about the world is sometimes too optimistic(even more, when I feel confident), a little bit irrealistic.
I’m sure it’s not the same discover that you aren’t the only person in all the world that spend a lot of time thinking on wheelchairs, dreaming of being a para, being excited when you try to transfer from the floor(my first orgasm was when I fall from an improvised wheelchair because I was trying to pee whith jelly legs,as a para).
It’s not the same for me than for you, you’ll know more thing about living with a wheelchair (or the expectation of having a SCI) as a TATOO in your mind.
This page has been like an open-eyer to me, I’ve been reading as I was understanding a part of mine y thought I could never understand.
22 On 3 February, 2008, Sean said:
estoy contento que mi lugar te ayuda. :)
Age is a factor, but I think that it is not so difficult to know and understand yourself, even if you are very young. More experience of the world will give you a different understanding, but you can have solid and valid views even now. Of course, I have a long time of using a wheelchair behind me, so I have greater understanding of many things, but that is not only for me. You too can get that understanding, in time :)
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1 On 20 July, 2007, jen said:
I am so, so close to you on this. It’s all about pain and making the pain stop. I read once where suicide is the only thing you’re left with when you’ve run out of options to stop the pain.
I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been told to ’snap out of it’. It is such a relief to me that I have in my possession enough tranquilizers to do the last and final job.
But again, I would leave my beloved cats. And although I have made provisions for them on my death, they still wouldn’t understand why they were being taken from the only home they’ve known and thrust into a cold, unknown world of noisiness and fear.
I can’t do that. And I could never bring myself to harm them the way demented parents kill their children, then kill themselves.
So here we are. And the suffering is very real. There are only brief respites and they are all too brief.