To shed my suicidal skin, I had to develop an understanding of how things work upstairs. Once I could see my mental landscape, it was easier to navigate. This did not require a Ph.D. in neuropsychology, just some basic information from my therapist. The following explanation is far from scientific and drastically simplified. I just want to give you a visual picture so that you can see suicidal thoughts for what they really are.
To my understanding, thoughts and feelings are electrical impulses that travel along a complex web of specialized nerve cells in the brain called neurons, with the help of chemicals called neurotransmitters. Feelings and thoughts are certainly very real. They mold our perception of the world and our place in it, and they can get so intense that it feels like a meat grinder is churning through your body. But the fact remains that, biologically speaking, feelings and thoughts are just energy particles born of life experience and genetics.
In Human Anatomy and Physiology, Elaine N. Marieb describes the nervous system as “the master controlling and communicating system of the body. It is responsible for all behavior—indeed, every thought, action and emotion reflects its activity. Cells of the nervous system communicate by means of electrical signals which are rapid, specific and usually cause almost immediate responses.”1
Pretend for a moment that you’re flying above a busy highway at rush hour. Below you, cars and trucks on the road are streaming toward their various destinations. If you apply that image to how your brain works, the cars and trucks are your thoughts and feelings, and neurons are the highway they’re traveling on.
Now you’re driving a Federal Express truck along that highway. Suddenly the highway ends at a river. No bridge is in sight, but there’s a ferry that can take you across the river. What do you do? You drive your truck onto the ferry, pay a toll, and float across the river to the other side, where you are reconnected with the highway and go on your way again.
A similar thing happens in the brain. In the brain, an electrochemical signal (the FedEx truck) travels along the neuron (the highway), carrying important packages and letters (your thoughts and feelings), until it reaches a gap called a synapse (the river). Synapses are, “for the most part, non-contact, chemical transmissions between one part of the neuron and another. Synapses permit the conduct of electrochemical impulses among a [vast number] of neurons almost instantly.”2
Take a look at the diagram below. See the little circular molecules floating in the gap? Those are neurotransmitters, and they are the “ferries” that float the message across the synapse to the next neuron. Technically speaking, a neurotransmitter “transmits nerve impulses across a synapse.”
Just as faulty construction or improper maintenance can cause a highway to deteriorate, brain function can be compromised by severe trauma, stress, or chemical imbalance. My own mental landscape was full of accidents waiting to happen.
I believe I was born predisposed to major depression, which is biochemical in nature. In other words, I was brought into the world with creaky bridges. This chemical imbalance, combined with the death of my mom, sexual abuse, and the other factors I described earlier, weakened my bridge construction to the point where I had potholes the size of Rhode Island in my thought processes. Two things happened: my body stopped making enough of the critical neurotransmitter serotonin, and what did get produced was used up too quickly. Instead of traveling safely over a waterway, my feelings and thoughts either crashed on the rocks or stalled at the tollbooth. And guess what, folks? I had no change.
ELECTROCHEMICAL TRANSMISSION AT THE SYNAPSE
Prozac is my “change.” In addition to easing the symptoms of depression, Prozac is also thought to help with borderline personality disorder and post-traumatic stress disorder. There are many types of antidepressant medication—selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors (SSRIs), monoamine oxidase inhibitors (MAOIs), tricyclic and heterocyclic antidepressants (TCAs and HCAs), and selective norepinephrine reuptake inhibitors (SNRIs). They are prescribed under many names, including: Paxil, Effexor, Celexa, Prozac, Zoloft, Wellbutrin, Serzone, and Remeron. For a detailed description of antidepressant medications, see the NAMI website, www.nami.org.
I have tried several different antidepressants; for the past nineteen years I’ve taken Prozac. It does not cure me, nor is it a substitute for therapy or behavior modification. Prozac keeps my bridges intact, pays my tolls, and helps my brain get its work done more efficiently. See the “Vitamin P” chapter in part 3 for more on medication.
To recap: Information (thought/feeling energy) passes through the brain along neurons, traveling over gaps called synapses. Within the synapse are neurotransmitters that carry the information to the next neuron. Everyone’s neuron superhighway is a little bit different based on genetics, environment, and personal history. Therefore, each brain has a different way of dealing with the world.
My brain wanted me to believe that my life was destined for pain, sorrow, and disappointment. Until my late twenties, I truly believed that some people were born to be happy and some were born to be sad, and I was one of the sad ones. Rubbish. By choosing to repeat self-destructive behavior patterns, I just reinforced the false belief that I was meant for misery. Suicide crept into my mind as a “solution” to the problem. A Grim Reaper took up residence under my skin and in my breath. He waited in the corners of my brain and became an angry tenant.
We are good people, you and I. We never asked for any of this pain and confusion. We didn’t ask to be born with a tendency toward depression. We didn’t ask to be sexually abused, to lose a parent prematurely, or to feel on guard growing up. We didn’t ask for it, but alas, we wound up with a Grim Reaper hitchhiking on our mental highway. It’s time to leave him in the dust.
EXERCISE: NEURON SUPERHIGHWAY VISUALIZATION
This is a visualization exercise. You will need a quiet place to sit. If you like to draw, you will also need a pencil and paper.
- Take a few deep breaths and sit comfortably.
- Close your eyes and imagine your neuron superhighway. Picture the scene as clearly as you can. It can be cars and trucks on asphalt, or neurons, synapses, and neurotransmitters. What does it look like? How is the traffic flow?
- Now imagine a warm glow pouring over the scene, surrounding it with soft brightness. Let the glow touch every part of the image.
- Keeping the scene surrounded with the glow, imagine every element of the highway running the way it’s supposed to: traffic jams are released; cars and trucks are moving smoothly; electrical impulses are traveling effortlessly over synapses. Everything is flowing exactly the way it needs to be.
- Sit with that image for a couple of minutes as you continue to breathe deeply.
- Now expand that glow to surround your body. Feel the warmth of the glow.
- As you breathe in, breathe in the glow; as you breathe out, breathe out the glow.
- After several minutes, wiggle your toes and fingers, slowly open your eyes, and become aware of your surroundings.
- If you’d like, take a few minutes and draw the image from your mind.
This exercise is nice to do before falling asleep, or if your brain is really ranting and you need to quiet it down. The comforting glow is yours whenever you want it to be.