I do not propose to be an expert in this field. I have more questions than answers. I do know that I weep each time I hear of an intelligent and caring human being belonging to my profession ending their life prematurely. I know that I have tasted times of despair, exhaustion, feeling that I am not good enough, or that I have failed my patients and that I suck. I do not know if I was ever really suicidal, but I have certainly given it more than a passing thought. I even had a secret stash of M99 for decades for just in case. I eventually threw it away - not because I no longer experienced the troughs, but because I was afraid that I might be tempted to use it some day.
Are we by our very nature of wanting to make things better for animals and caring very deeply about that, more prone to suicide than the general population or is it the job that could break anyone down, regardless of personality type? Do we over analyze and over think things?
As I have grown older, I have grown stronger. Perhaps having less life left over, I treasure it more. I accept that I am not invincible and that some patients cannot be saved. I also accept that I am human, and although I still feel sick to the pit of my stomach if my treatment harms or even kills an animal, I get over it much sooner. I am still upset by difficult clients, but get over them faster too. I have learnt to be careful and thorough and accept that if I have done my best and things still go pear shaped , I am not solely to blame. I still find it very hard to express my feelings and talk about my problems. If I suffer a great loss I will tough it out as long as I can until I eventually break down in tears when I am alone and cry my heart out. Often that is also the beginning of the healing process. On a personal level I have learnt that I am responsible for my own welfare. Happiness does not come in the form of a perfect partner, job, house, or salary. It dwells within me. I give others less power over my mental well being than I did when I was younger.
Even so, I find time spent with friends and family helps to cheer me up - even if I never talk about my problems.
I have learnt that the cliched stuff actually does work. The glass should always be half full. Think about what you have to be grateful for every day. Practice positive self talk. See small problems and issues for what they truly are. A flat tyre, stubbed toe and a dead dog, all in one day, does not mean that you are totally useless, or that the universe is conspiring against you. I have learnt to recognise the black dog of depression for what he is before he has a chance to sink his teeth in. I have discovered that St. Johns Wort taken early does help for me. I have used prescribed anti-depressants at times, but find the side-effects hard to deal with. I have discovered certain coping mechanisms that work for me. For instance, normally I am in awe of beauty in nature. If I get really down (or depressed) a stunning scene fails to lift my spirits. Then I look at everything I see analytically as an artist, as if I am going to draw it. A few days of this really helps, even if I never have a chance to put pencil to paper. It may only help for me because I love drawing, but I suspect using rarely used brain pathways may stimulate endorphin or neurotransmitter release. All the experts say exercise, get a hobby outside work that takes your mind of work, spend time with friends.
My daughter once commented on the struggles a past boy friend had because he felt angry and abandoned by his dad who had killed himself, even though the boyfriend was an adult at the time. He felt that his dad was a coward for not dealing with his issues and selfish for killing himself. Maybe he had no idea of the struggles his dad was going through, or he would be less judgemental. However, it brought home to me the massive impact suicide has on those you leave behind. Over and above the sadness, relatives and friends have to deal with guilt and worrying whether something they did or said, or neglected to do or say, contributed to your problems.
I also wonder whether veterinary suicide is always a case of true clinical depression, or just a moment of total despair, possibly brought on by one or a series of distressing incidents. I have seen deep long lasting clinical depression in a close relative and know I have never been that bad, so please don't think for one moment that I am making light of true depression or suggesting that trite self talk is all it takes to "snap out of it". However, I do believe that certain techniques have helped me avert depression by recognising and dealing with a "down" mood early.
Either way, please, please my colleagues, never be tempted to end it all. If you feel that way,or even long before you get to that point, seek help. Phone a colleague or a vet or general helpline, any time of night or day. Over and above being a great vet, you are one of a select few and besides your immediate family and friends, the world really needs your intellect and insight. Even if you killed that horse today by miscalculating a dose, and you are feeling really, really terrible and useless, lift up your head, learn from your mistakes and look to the future. There are great changes afoot - burgeoning population, global warming, cloud computing, 3D printing, increasing religious fanaticism. The world needs you. Apply your mind. Help to make the world a better place one vaccine or one spay at a time.
It will pass.
With love,
Your colleague,
Joan
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