My Letter to the Kind Head Shrinker Today….

November 15, 2012, 8:39 AM

Dr. Kelso
Billings Clinic Behavioral Health Center
Billings Clinic
1020 N 27th St Ste 410
Billings, MT 59101

Dear Doctor Kelso,

My name is David Willoughby. You examined and spoke to me Wednesday afternoon during a PAC eval in the Emergency Department there at Billings Clinic Hospital.  At that time, I promised that I would contact you should I reach the point at which the harming ort killing myself became a possibility.  We are nearing that point.

I promised I would try and speak with you before doing anything… rash.

Let me perfectly clear. I am fully in possession of my faculties. While self delusion and/or psychotic tendencies may always be a possibility in someone facing my circumstances, I do not believe that is so in my case.  I am in a *terrible* position.  I cannot seem to get any type of medical care for my severe, constant pain.  And I refuse to go to the black market to find something to try and hold back this pain.

You asked if I had a ‘plan’. Yes. I do.

Within the next little bit, I fully intend to stand in the middle of some street while someone films, and then uploads the video of me putting two feet of blade through my lower left side.

I’ll let that sink in….

I already have contacts prepared to spread this video, and everything that has happened to me over the last three months.  *Everything*.

I am *NOT* trying to blackmail or force anyone’s hand here. But I am sick and TIRED of being blown off. And my screaming agony being ignored!


Perhaps if I am bleeding, someone will finally listen to me. I *know* the press will.

Sounds insane, doesn’t it?  I know.  But I am simply left with no choices. It isn’t about the narcotics. Truly. It is about the PAIN. I have said for MONTHS that I would take ANY treatment that relieved even a small portion of my bone-crushing, soul killing PAIN!

My own primary “fired” me because the situation is so impossible.  He spent a MASSSIVE amount of time trying to find someone, ANYONE that would do so. Did all the things he could do. But without the scans showing a mechanism behind my pain… he was.. Helpless.

Dr. Kelso, I am at the end of me.  I woke up this morning with a timer running in my head. I failed my self assessment. While I will not kill myself today.. Or even tomorrow. I WILL within 48 hours. Period.

Care to bet my life on it?  I don’t.  Hence this letter…

Don’t even bother hauling me back in for yet *another* PAC eval if someone is not going to do something  IMMEDIATE and  SIGNIFICANT to treat my pain.  Otherwise, it is just a waste of all of our time.  Just a cause for more pain for me.  No matter what I say or do, the first moment I am alone or under my own control, I WILL kill or wound myself. These bodies we wear just aren’t that tough to shut down.

The only thing that has kept me alive this long is that I have an iron will.  People don’t normally care for a demonstration. I mean every word I say.  I have no time or energy left for subterfuge.  If you or anyone tampers with my ability to control my … terrible anguish and pain… I cannot be held liable for the consequences.

Let me again be clear: I would NEVER willingly harm another human being. Ever. Or myself.  Other than this agony, I have a good life.  I have fought the good fight and run the good race.  I am content.
But I promised you and my wife, Shawna, that I would at least *try* once more to get help.

Help me. Please.  If even to give me a just few more days with my love. A few more minutes.  Don’t let me do this terrible thing.  Stop the pain and see what a rational, normal, caring guy I am. Please.  I just have no strength to go on.  I cannot eat. I haven’t had more than 2 or 3 saltines to eat in the last week.  I cannot keep my other meds down.  I’ll hand you my morphine if you like. It is too little to do anything anyway.  It is like trying to stop a freight train with a fly swatter.

Just  don’t let them make me do this terrible thing. Please.

Human beings shouldn’t have to resort to this for a little compassion. A little frigging CARE.

IF I survive this. IF I somehow find a path through this, I *will* need help.

This lack of humane care has made me mentally ill, but I am *Completely* sane.  Like a concentration camp victim, or someone undergoing torture, I have simply reached the end of me. Finis.

I will try and call you this afternoon before the end of work, (5pm) or will be by my phone all day.

But the next time I willingly hit the ED, if I am lucky, I will only be bleeding.
And you’ll see it on the 5 o’clock news.


David Willoughby
340 Orchard Lane
Billings, MT   59101


~ by daveprime on November 15, 2012.

One Response to “My Letter to the Kind Head Shrinker Today….”

  1. N-O!

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