u/arlenhighclass09

I have severe ocd and depression. I’m not keen on going to outpatient, but my family is pressuring me into it at this point.

The intake form consisted of texting with an AI chatbot, a lot like ChatGPT. It asked the normal questions (age, height, marital status, etc.) which I’m fine with answering.

But then it asked for my history of self harm/suicide, and asked for specific details and dates. I told it I was uncomfortable with answering and wanted to speak to a human. It said something like “I understand you’re uncomfortable talking to an ai, but this is for your health” and pressed the question again. I had to refuse another two times before it finally gave up and let me submit the intake form.

Is this normal? I can’t believe these people expect an at-risk population to willingly spill the details of their trauma and self harm into an AI. I never signed any consent forms before starting either, so this was all a surprise.

This is a very long post, but it’s a matter of life and death. I beg you, please read

Background: I’ve (f27) been severely depressed all my life. I’ve tried medications, therapy, hospitalization, genesight testing, DBT, yoga, diet change, moving, weed, and nothing worked. I learned about assisted suicide in high school and became obsessed with the afterlife and reaching it. In the past year, I’ve come to incorporate my religious beliefs into this as well. I believe God has a plan for me that involves an early death by my own hand. I was at peace with my decision, made a plan, and moved away from my family to carry it out.

Here’s where it comes apart: right before I was ready to go, I briefly mentioned to my family how I was feeling. I didn’t even tell them the details or that I even had a plan, just that I was probably going to be going away soon. Their reaction was unexpected.

My mother -who used to scream at me for being too depressed to do all my schoolwork and shrugged when I told her I cut myself - broke down in tears and could barely speak. I’ve never seen her cry before. She begged me to at least wait until after my dad was gone, as my death would break him. She sobbed and choked on her words and told me she loved me so much and would pay for anything that would make me better. She clung to me, her arms were so frail.

It was all real tears, too…ever since I moved out around college, they’ve become more docile and understanding. I think it’s a combination of distance and age - they’re both around 70, and I’m seeing bits of physical and cognitive decline.

Last week I was at peace with my decision. I bought a gun, packed my belongings, and made a will.

Now I believe that if I kill myself, my elderly parents will die from stress. I will go to Hell for killing them. At the same time, I am in Hell staying alive. \*The only thing that makes me feel a sliver of normalcy is smoking weed and going to my part time job, but it’s only a bandaid on a a gunshot wound\*

I’m willing to try something else before I go, but I’m not sure what to do. Nothing is viable. Here are my options, with my thoughts:

1. Intensive outpatient therapy (my parents choice) - I would have to take a month off work. I’ve already taken a month off work this year for an unrelated illness, and had my hours drastically cut upon my return. If I take another month off, I will lose even more. I think if I don’t work for a month straight, I will kill myself. There are no outpatient programs in my area that will allow me to work and attend the program.

2. Regular therapy - I cannot be honest with a therapist. I cannot tell them about my right to die beliefs, my suicide plans, or my actual thoughts without being forcibly hospitalized. It’s a huge waste of time, and I can never get to the root issues of my depression

3. Inpatient hospitalization - what a joke. Underfunded, food is terrible, staff can be cruel, fellow patients can literally assault you, they take away your phone and give you a single tattered old magazine to share amongst 10 people…IF you’re lucky to get a bed. Maybe you’ll be shipped off to another hospital two hours away. It’s not a place to help people, it’s a holding cell.

4. Continue on this way for a while until I take my own life, meanwhile research and grow comfortable with the idea of Hell, do the best I can do prepare my parents for the grief (my choice)

I feel like there’s no way out