I’m almost to the door when he asks me to wait a moment. He wants to know if I want to kill myself. I didn’t come to see this psychologist about depression or suicidal thoughts. Between my psychosis from eighteen months previous, and the long recovery with the many antipsychotics, I started to worry I might be schizophrenic. I’ve been assured that my diagnosis of Bipolar I is intact. He did add a note about psychotic tendencies. Apparently when I get really unwell, it’s indistinguishable from schizoaffective disorder. That explains my curiosity.
What I really wanted to discuss, is the likelihood that I will have more delusions in the future. High. The likelihood is high. I’m not surprised. I got the same answer from my APRN and therapist. A full psychological evaluation still seemed in order. The fact that I have more mental illness guaranteed in my future is why he’s asking if suicide is on the table. I ponder for a moment, thinking about what he said about Bipolar being weaved into the fabric of my life. I answer that I’m alright with it. He seems satisfied with my answer, so I leave.
I really am alright with it. For over a year I’ve had to reckon with the fact that I will always cycle through mental illness, and never come out the other side of it. Since I’ve survived so many times in the past, I figure I will in the future.
I try to get people to see the humorous side of this encounter. How often do you talk to a doctor and after the prognosis, they ask you if you want to kill yourself? The fact that a professional thinks their news is bad enough to warrant that question is morbidly funny to me. So far no one has agreed.