I saw my T for 9 years then we terminated as I was moving too far away, changing jobs, my to-be husband was in my life, etc. Life went on and I didn't see her for another 9 years and then my father died and my stepmother started having problems, getting really senile and that woke up my life experiences as a toddler that I'd not worked through yet. I finally figured out I might be able to find my old T's phone number (in a different state from where I lived) in the phone books at the public library (I'd had fantasies of a trip driving to the other state and finding a phone booth with a phone book for that state/area :-) and I went and yes, there was her phone number which I gleefully wrote down, thinking I was now going to be "saved!"

However, I almost immediately, after writing down the number, got the urge to go find/check out books on suicide. I am use to "odd" notions like that from myself :-) and so was curious rather than very alarmed and decided to do that. I found 3-4 books that looked "right" (???) and then had to get over the idea that other people/the librarians were "watching" and would take down my name, call the police, etc. for checking out those particular books and so "many" of them at once. LOL.

I got myself, the phone number and the books home and immediately called my old T and there was loads of recognition and warmth in her voice and she was pleased to set up an appointment to see me again, expressed the thought that maybe it would be an opportunity for both of us to work through some things we hadn't finished with 9 years earlier. There was a catch though, she was going away and wouldn't be able to see me for 2-3 weeks. That was fine, I was still high on having found her and her being there and wanting to see me, etc. So we made the appointment for the next month.

Then it started. I innocently started thinking about what I'd tell her in that first session, how I'd organize my thoughts, etc. and "the" problem, as I was trying to unwind it (think tapestry with a bad spot/mistake you have to undo and rework) got more and more tangled and upsetting. Eventually I found words to put to how I was feeling: I felt like there was a sunami poised over my left shoulder :-) In the middle of this, I was again drawn to and started reading the books on suicide. I found them both "focusing" and comforting and I found those findings "odd" :-) so took a look at them.

Eventually I figured out a couple things that were true for me. The books on suicide and thinking/reading about suicide formed a base or hard "floor" for my thoughts and feelings. You know that bottomless pit? The books took care of that for the moment, stopped the potential for falling. Another thing, looking back at my own history; whenever I'd needed "help" before, I hadn't had the words to express myself and, indeed, hadn't had the words/known how to ask for help so had called suicide prevention/help center lines and they'd "told" me what to do next, where/how to get help. It gave me somewhere to start and "legitimacy" to my feelings to call a therapy center and say, "I called the suicide line and they told me to call you". So, I learned a bit about myself, about my not having "words" yet and, indeed, that became a huge focus for the next 9 years of therapy :-)

I went along with my Unconscious's :-) program in the library that day and I'm glad I did. I think I've always had a good tolerance for myself and my "quirks" and I know I'm a very curious and creative person so when a "flag" went up with the I'm saved/let's read about suicide paradox, I relaxed, got out of my own way, and trusted Myself enough to know Myself was working in My own interest, so Me went along with the "program" :-) Maybe just accepting the thoughts, that they're doing something positive "for" you in some way you don't understand (yet :-) AS, will help? I applaud your thinking/talking about the issue, trying to figure out what's going on with yourself.