I Don't Want to Die (Yet)

It's not my time.

NOTE: This is a fairly long post (by my standards). I’m sorry I couldn’t make it shorter. I hope you’ll see why and I hope that by the end you’ll feel this was worth reading in full.

Trigger Warnings: Death, dying, depression, suicide, addiction.

I felt the tears spring to my eyes. I turned away so she wouldn’t see.

We were talking about heart attacks:

• A woman found face-down in a lake. Luckily she was found quickly and pulled from the water. She was lifted to safety by an air ambulance - and survived.

• A man who was given medication for his narrowed arteries by a cardiologist… but still he had a massive heart attack a few weeks later. Thankfully he had his phone nearby and managed to dial an ambulance in time. He also survived. Negligent cardiologist? I don’t know, but it’s worrying.

I’m approaching 50 years old - I’m not afraid of death itself, but I’m keenly aware that my end is approaching… much faster than I want it to.

The older you get, the faster each year flies by. It’s bewildering.

And… I don’t want to go yet. I can’t allow myself to die young of a heart attack.

I’m not afraid of death, I’m afraid of dying before my time.

That realisation is what brought me to tears.

The Depths of Despair

I’ve been diagnosed with depression, but it doesn’t seem to be of a typical kind.

My moods can shift very quickly, from one extreme to another within a few hours. I’ve taken online tests a few times and I’m confident I don’t have bipolar disorder.

But my therapist recently suggested I may have cyclothymia, which is sort of like Diet bipolar disorder.

When I’m at my lowest, which happens fairly frequently, I engage in quite a bit of suicidal ideation. In other words, I think about killing myself.

To be clear: it’s been a very long time since I actively made any serious plans to try to end my life.

These days, when I’m depressed I just get a lot of thoughts along the following lines:

• I don’t want to be here any more.

• Oh, [famous celebrity] has cancer. I wish that was me. (God, I feel a sting of shame and embarrassment writing that now).

• There’s nothing good in my life.

• I wish I could just go back to bed and never wake up.

But when I’m well again, which is often as quickly as the next morning, or just a few hours later, my mind looks very different:

• I can’t believe I was thinking about suicide again.

• What a terrible mistake it would have been if I’d gone through with it.

• Life feels so vibrant and full of possibility.

• The hardest decision I have now is trying to choose which wonderful activity I want to engage in next.

Numbing

Over the years I’ve numbed myself to pain with a variety of drugs, both legal and illegal.

Luckily I’ve never been hardcore addicted to any of the most ruinous drugs like heroin, crystal meth, fentanyl or crack.

But I have been addicted - just fortunately to less a harmful drug.

The most problematic addiction I have right now isn’t even illegal - it’s to processed food, especially sweet stuff like ice cream and sweets.

Over the last year especially, I have watched my health decline and my weight and waistline increase.

A few years ago I ran a marathon. It’s fair to say my health has declined somewhat since then, though thankfully I can still run a few miles with only minimal discomfort.

Heart Attacks

They’re one of the biggest killers of men my age.

Back to the very first line in this post - talking about people who have had heart attacks - it brought tears to my eyes.

Tears of fear. Bone-chilling fear of going before my time.

Fear that my problems with addiction to processed food might lead me to have a premature heart attack.

I’m not ready to go yet.

Reasons To Be Positive

Luckily I think my risk is still fairly low in relative terms.

Yes, a few months ago I had the displeasure and ignominy of crossing over into the “obese” category according to the BMI chart (not that that’s always a particularly accurate or useful measure, but that’s another story).

But on the other hand, I don’t smoke, I rarely drink, and I go running once every 1-2 weeks on average.

And I’m in therapy. It’s really helping.

We’ve been exploring why I get depressed.

Why I take drugs.

Why I binge on ice cream.

“The question isn’t why the addiction. The question is why the pain.” - Gabor Maté

We’ve made a lot of progress.

Using a Transactional Analysis therapeutic lens, we’ve identified that I’m “stroke deprived” [insert crude joke here].

Essentially that means that I need to get out the house more, meet new people, build connections and friendships.

And to do that, I have to make peace with the fear I have inside.

That fear is the reason I’ve self-isolated over the last 13 years. I was scared of other people.

Or, more accurately, the hurt and traumatised 7 year old boy in me is scared of other people.

Making Peace with Myself

When faced with addictions, or being overweight, many of us default to a fighting mindset. We dig our heels in and summon every last ounce of willpower we can muster. We tell ourselves we’re going to fight, to win, to overcome.

Somehow the “good” side of our nature will defeat the “bad” side.

BUT THAT’S NOT HOW CHANGE WORKS!

The “paradoxical nature of change” is a concept from Gestalt therapy. Essentially it means that the more we struggle, the more stuck we become.

Imagine thrashing around in quicksand. That’s what many of us do.

That’s why so many New Years's Resolutions are abandoned before January is finished.

The solution is to go inside, to listen to the parts of ourselves that we neglect or reject. Your shadow side. Your inner child. And many other parts that desperately want you to see and hear them.

Loose Reins

And so, for the last few months, I’ve been operating with “loose reins” when it comes to my overeating.

I imagine I’m riding a horse. I’m not trying to force it where to go. I’m in negotiation and partnership with the animal.

I ask my inner child what he really wants. Is it ice cream, or is it to feel safe?

Sometimes I WILL still choose ice cream, and that’s totally fine.

I remind myself of the likely consequences (increased weight, a mood crash, withdrawal symptoms). I “play the tape forward” as they say in SMART Recovery.

Maybe I negotiate with myself on the scale of the binge. Can I have half as much?

Can I be mindful as I eat and watch out for signs my body’s had enough?

CURIOSITY is the keyword.

FAITH

Right now my weight is still going up and my waistline is getting bigger. I do not like how I look in the mirror.

And so, with these external results going in the wrong direction, one has to ask, “Is the loose reins thing actually working?”

Well yes, I think it is.

I’m changing on the inside, the relationship with myself, even if the reflection in the mirror says otherwise.

I have faith that loose reins is the right approach.

The Future

There will come a day when I hit my peak weight… and then it will start going down.

My asthma will improve.

I’ll be able to run faster and farther again. Maybe another marathon might be on the cards.

My favourite clothes will fit me again.

I will feel sexy when I look in the mirror, topless.

The supermarket staff will stop referring to me as “the ice cream man” thanks to my habit of midnight drives to the shop for a sugar binge.

Hopefully these changes will happen soon.

And hopefully I will not die from a premature heart attack.

I intend to be here for a good few decades yet, God be willing.

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THIS POST WAS PROUDLY WRITTEN WITH ZERO USE OF AI.
(except the image).