Do I

Do I

“Do I” is a song by Luke Bryan, one of my favorite male artists. Every time I hear the song, I wonder if my therapist and I are still a good fit. I think we are as we have been together for so long, but I often wonder if I am too much for her to bear or that I am a burden to her.

I went to Starbucks for the first time in four weeks. All my baristas were gone from the Davis location. I was so bummed not to see familiar faces. I hope they were off that day or just on vacation. I will be super bummed if I have to deal with new people. I will go there tomorrow and see how they make a clover coffee. I won’t order their reserve, just the Pike. I seem to like that better than their regular iced coffee, probably because it is made fresh.

I am still feeling good. Today on Mental Health chat on Twitter, the discussion was bipolar disorder. I have been diagnosed with bipolar as I have had some hypomanic episodes. I have never been full blown manic. I had one episode while I was in the hospital. I was really jocular and upbeat. I was also really racy and despite taking Ativan regularly, it still didn’t alter my mood. This lasted until I took some pain meds and then I crashed, hard over this past weekend. It was fun while it lasted and I wish I still felt that great. I felt like nothing could touch me. Suicide was furthest from my mind and I felt like I was on top of the world, even though I was in a psych hospital. It was very strange. I was expecting to go down, but I wasn’t expecting to be “that” down. I was really tired and just needed to rest but I was too restless to actually sleep. I took a prn to calm down some and finally was able to get some rest. Everyone was telling me I looked tired and down. With my anticipated discharge on Monday, I was thinking that it was not going to happen. I really didn’t want to leave the hospital feeling the way I did this weekend. It was such a major depressive episode that I didn’t want to chance leaving the hospital and then acting on my thoughts. So I had to practically beg to stay one more day. My case manager asked me why I wanted to die. I told her to end the pain and the indignity that I was feeling with my disability. I really just wanted to say “are you fucking kidding me”? This hospitalization, I experienced everything I do when I am home. I crapped my pants, leaked urine, was suicidal more than a few times, and was overall, severely depressed. The hypomania was a godsend. I just wish it lasted longer than it did. But it never does and the longer it lasts, the worse my depression is. I think I had a total of 12 hours of it. Not long enough to do any financial damage or anything, but enough to let me know I was alive again, that something inside me wants to keep going no matter what the suicidal thoughts might be.

My writing partner has suggested that I write a book about coping as a suicide attempt survivor. I have been giving it some serious thought and I think I can write it. I don’t know if I am going to write it in blog form or book form yet. Depends on how much I can actually write. But a large part of what works for me is already out there but people don’t utilize it. For example, I gave the crisis response plan (see this blog about it) to one of the patients because it was less confusing than what the hospital was giving out about distress tolerance. The hospital uses DBT type of works, which is fine for some people but may not fit for everyone. And, who the fuck is going to look at a piece of paper when they are in crisis mode?? I know I am not. I have been there too many times. But I have found that the crisis response plan has been helpful to me since David Jobes uses it in his work with suicidal patients.

One of the mental health counselors was interested in my book and the SSF, Suicide Status Form (see my comparisons of psychological pain scales for more information). I wish I could publish it on my blog but it is not available in electronic form and I would be violating copyrights. I use this in my therapy when I am suicidal. It helps because it gives my therapists some way of knowing which areas are causing me to want to die. I think it would be wonderful to use in an inpatient stay but I don’t get to make those types of decisions. Anyway, this MHC and I were talking about it and it was so good to talk about clinical stuff with someone again rather than just stuff about me. It was like being back in academia again where exchanging ideas is so important for learning. I just wish my treatment team was on board with my ideas for my treatment than just saying that I have to stay away from suicide stuff. I told them that I can’t. It is apart of me like breathing. I am always thinking about what is best for me and I am always searching for an answer to end the suicidal thoughts. Just telling me to stop is not going to work. I read clinical stuff as well as blogs because I want to keep abreast of the latest research. Even though I am no longer a member of the AAS, I still keep up with the suicide research. I wish I could afford their membership but I am on such a fixed budget that I can’t. I also would love to have the archives of suicide research journal but again, I can’t afford membership. It totally sucks. I was hoping that the sales of my book would provide me with additional income but it hasn’t taken off the way that I wanted it to. I have not reached my goal of selling 100 books, though I am half way there. While I was in the hospital, I sold two books. Not my personal copies, just through Amazon. I did bring one with me to give away but I never did. I still have it. My book signing has not gone well. It brought extra income just to buy food and the essentials. The struggles of the writer. I just have to find the right audience to get my book sold.

I am planning on getting my book reviewed by the AAS (American Association of Suicidology). It will be sent out next week along with a book for my editor. I have been meaning to send it out but things always seemed to get in the way. I wasn’t planning on being in the hospital for so long. I really thought I was going to stay a few days and that would be it but they had other plans when I told them I was going to kill myself when I got out. Hospitals tend to frown upon that. I put them in a “bind”. Sorry, but that was how I was feeling. I really was in bad shape and all that I was feeling felt normal to me. Looking back, I see that I wasn’t as rational as I thought I was. I guess that small overdose was the wake up call for my outpatient treaters to put me in the hospital.

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home

I am home from the hospital. I am feeling less suicidal than when I first came in and the case manager said I did a good job in staying an extra day to sort out my feelings. I was apprehensive about leaving but now I am okay and in my bed, which I missed very much. I am writing this on my laptop so it won’t take me five years to crank out a blog and it will be comprehensible as I won’t be using the touch screen on my tablet. God that was good in a pinch but aggravating to type on as it distracted the flow as I had to correct stuff as I was typing it. Like it would correct “three” with “there” when I really wanted to say Three. I supposed I should have used the number but I didn’t think of it at the time. Silly me.

I have my prescriptions being filled. The bad part is that I won’t be getting them tonight as the pharmacy is backed up. I am going to try and pick them up around 8 before they close as I will need the new blood pressure pill they put me on. My blood pressure has been high and so has been my pulse. I know it’s most likely because I am stressed and overweight, but one thing at a time. I am going to try and lose some more weight but it’s hard. I really am hungry right now and want to munch on things. Worst part is that there are cheese doodles that are calling my name. But I am going to be a good boy and not think about it. I know I gained a few pounds while I was in the hospital because I ate out of boredom. I just hope I didn’t gain too much or my PCP is going to have my head! And it is going to be harder to lose the weight than gaining it. I wish losing it was as easy as gaining. It sucks.

I forgot that I spent my last twenty bucks so I am fucking screwed in paying for my pills. I might have to borrow money from my sister, again. I hate doing so because she has her daughter’s college tuition to pay for. I just feel bad asking her for money. I don’t get paid till next week and I can’t go a week without my meds. That will not be good.

My mother is making stuffed chicken so I will have my first home cooked meal in a month. I can’t believe that I spent almost four weeks in the hospital. But I needed to be there. I really had no idea how sick I was. I just hope it stays this way, least for a while. I really don’t want to go back and I doubt that I will. I just miss my therapist and can’t wait till she is back next week. We have a lot to catch up on.

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Struggling just to stay

Met with team this morning. All my meetings with my treaters were done by 10 am. Which left the day wide open To boredom. I told the treatment team I needed an extra day to sort myself out. I think pulling teeth was easier. They gave me a hard time and I had to tell them exactly how unsafe I felt going home because I had a rough weekend and wasn’t sure I could be safe enough at home. It is now the early evening and I am ready to blow this joint. Not that things have changed much, but I know that I will feel better when I am in my own environment.

I really wanted to talk to someone after the meeting because I was so frustrated. I mean what is one more day? Now I have the confidence I didn’t have before.

I have an RN contact person tonight. I hope that we talk quickly or not at all. I just am not in a talking mood right now. I feel like everyone is against me. I never felt like this before in any of my many hospitalizations.

I have been talking about the SSF tonight with one of the mental health workers. It is great to talk academia with someone. I really miss it.

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What to do

I just read a fellow bloggers blog. You could here the desperation in her words. I am pretty much in the same boat. I am debating on staying in the hospital a little longer because the last two days, I have been severely depressed. People can look at me and see how depressed I am. I don’t like it. But it is what it is. I can’t pretend anymore. I haven’t felt suicidal but that is only one step away from where I am right now.

I don’t have any clue what I’ll be doing when I get home. Being home doesn’t scare me, my thoughts do. I haven’t met with my contact person yet. Maybe he has some ideas. But then he doesn’t know me. We’ll just have to see.

I talked with a family member last might who read my book. She said she had no clue there was a dark side to me. We are going for lunch on Thursday.

I have been thinking about my writing partner’s silly ideas of writing a coping handbook about dealing with suicidal thoughts. It is not a bad idea. It might help because what works for me, might work for some one. I have to think about it some. Otherwise it will be two paragraphs and that won’t help anyone.

I am very tired. I hit my head on a chair, not on purpose. Something fell and when I went to pick it up, my head found the chair instead of the dropped object. OUCH!! I told staff. They just told me to take Tylenol. It might be a bruise tomorrow. I don’t care.

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Saturday night inpatient

I was feeling emotionally and physically drained today. I couldn’t think or concentrate. It has been a rough day.

I will be getting discharged on Monday. I cannot wait to leave this place and be on my own again. I so miss the confines of my room. I miss my laptop. But I miss my home more. I know my mother missed me and I wish I felt the same but I don’t. 

like I said, I feel drained today. It is off because I was feeling so upbeat yesterday. I was a little hypomanic. Then I took my pain meds and I have been depressed since. I feel worse than what I came in with. My brain is slow moving so this blog may not be too long. I am having difficulty putting thoughts to my words, if that makes sense. I don’t think it is a side effect of medication. Definitely one of depression.

We had group therapy today. I was so foggy, I don’t remember too much of what was going on. The time seemed to go on forever. I just wanted to go back to bed. I struggles with that all day. The other patients kept asking me why I was so depressed. I didn’t have an answer for them. I just was really down and not talkative. If I wasn’t moving, I could have been in a vegetative state. But after I had my check in, I tried to sleep. It’s not easy because of checks and people walking in the hallway. My room is a single. Don’t know how I managed that but I am grateful. It’s nice because I’m not bothering anyone and no one is bothering me. My room is opposite a double and triple so there is constant foot shuffling in the hallway, which makes it hard to sleep. I leave my door open so that the checks person isn’t opening and closing it all the time, which further makes sleep difficult. This is the first hospitalization that I have ever left my door open. I don’t know why I can sleep with it open. Usually, I need a pitch dark room to sleep. But not on this occasion. Weird.

When I get out, I have to email my pdoc every day until I see her on Friday, no exceptions. Dammit. I have no clue what I will write. “I’m alive” comes to mind or “I’m still here”. I  might alternate between the two. I don’t think the email has to be very long.

I miss my therapist terribly. It’s been more than a month since we had a session. Well almost a month as I have been in the hospital for three weeks now. I won’t talk to her until the 26th.  :-(

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Runaway Train

“Can you help me remember how to smile
make it somehow all seem worthwhile
how on earth did I get so jaded
life’s mysteries seem so faded”

These are the lyrics to Soul Asylum’s Runaway Train. These lyrics have been resonating with me over the past few days. The meaning is quite clear. I feel I don’t remember how to smile. Life seems jaded, far away from me. Another line is “somehow I’m neither here nor there” I ave been struggling with my alter Mr. Hyde the past few days. Last night he really wanted to come out and play. So I let him write yesterday’s blog and the lyrics to this song for my therapist. He seemed satisfied.

Runaway Train has been my favorite song since it came out in the early 90’s. The lyrics touch me very deeply. It’s a song about abuse, neglect, and the need to escape these things. Yet not matter where we go, they always follow us. Like the lyrics state “Runaway train never going back, wrong way on a one way track, seems like I should be getting somewhere, somehow I’m neither here nor there”

Every time hear the song my heart aches because I can never escape the pain. One of the tracks is “bought a ticket for a runaway train, like a madman laughing at the rain, a little out of touch, little insane, Just easier than dealing with the pain.

I interpret the ticket with suicide and how pain is dealt with. Suicide, for me, has always been my ticket out of this world. I read about it to understand it better. I write about it to feel better. Yet I know one day I will lose the battle, like Robin Williams, and take my own life. There is no way I can educate my family for my loss. For they refuse to acknowledge that I have mental illness. According to my sister “there is no mental illness on her side of the family”. This was said three weeks after my last hospitalization for depression. It’s tough to deal with. Yet I have no strength to educate them after all these years. I am surprised my brother in law hasn’t called me. But then, he, too, is in denial about things.

The last line of the song always gets me. It says “I runaway but it always seems the same” And it’s true. No matter how many times I have a depressive episode, it’s like my first and aways feels like it’s never going to end. Then I remember, usually by the scars on my wrist, that things were worst. Things always seem the same with depression but they never really are. Each episode takes a piece of you that cannot be replaced or taken back. Each episode tears you apart ad brings you to the edge of suicide nearly every time. And it hurts in ways you cannot describe. So I am on the one way track, trying never to go back, but I’m neither here nor there.

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Still here

I am not getting discharged tomorrow, though I still want to be. I just can’t get the suicidal thoughts out of my head. Mr. Hyde wants to come out and play. I am having a hard time holding him back. All he wants is an outlet to write suicide goodbye letters. So maybe this blog will be an outlet for him. He needs to be in control or else bad things happen.

There is a patient snoring where I am at the nurse’s station. It is annoying me. But it is better than her legs jumping. I haven’t met many people on the unit the I can really talk to. I am glad because then I don’t have to keep up the relationship when I get discharged. It is hard staying friends with people when you get out of the hospital. People just go on with their lives.

I still feel pretty hopeless. My case manager wants me to work on short and long term goals. I can work on the short, the longer ones I don’t think I can because I feel i don’t have a future.

I wish I brought my laptop so typing this would be easier. Plus I could edit my works for my short story. I actually write a short story while I was in here. I’m not going to publish it in blog form but will in my book. I am hoping my second book is more successful than my first. But I know what to do the second time around, if there is one.

I got guilt tripped into staying alive. I fucking hate that

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Another Actor suicide

Robin Williams death has touched me deeply. I have grown up with this man got all my life and now that he is gone, I feel an emptiness I cannot describe.

I feel that it is now my turn to commit suicide. I will be out of the hospital on Thursday. I have made up my mind. I am in a pissed off mood today. I woke up on the other side of the bed, or however the saying goes. I really don’t give a flying fuck.

The world is always dark and gray to me. I will never see the light or bright colors. I am too far into the abyss. I tried to get help but they really can’t help a hopeless person. I have too many wounds and they just like keeping Band-Aids on them. Like today, they wanted me to talk about my mother and my relationship with her. Its not going to change by a hospital admission. And don’t anyone dare try and tell me that they were trying. I know the system too well. They try to talk about it and then they leave you hanging dry with the emotions. They told me the would work on it later but I know later is never going to come.

I am in a dark place today. Woke up in a suicidal mood. Haven’t told anyone. I don’t even know who my contact person is tonight. Doesn’t matter. Come this weekend this will be over. I will end my suffering because it needs to end. I am too tired of fighting this illness all the time. Its too much for me to bear.

I will be writing up my will and testament tonight as well as the letter to my friend asking him to do what needs to be done so that my online friends know that I am gone. I just hope that he complies.

I have been in a Mr. Hyde mood all day. We’ll see if this changes tomorrow.

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still inpatient 2

It’s Sunday and I am still here. I probably will be here for a while as I found out last night that there is no set discharge date for me. This upsets me. I talked with my pdoc and told her that even though she is on vacation, I want to be discharged and that I will email her every day until I see her on the 22nd. I am still having suicidal thoughts and stuff but they are lessening. I think the new medication is helping me. I really want to be in my own bed again.

Since I have a bunch of time on my hands while I am in here, I have written a lot in my journal and written a few letters to my therapist. She is on vacation also. I really miss her and hope that when I get out of here I can borrow my sister’s car and see her. I haven’t seen her since June. She misses me as much as I miss her. I am trying my best to get out of here and still be safe.

I had an ankle flare up the other day and I can’t seem to calm it down. It is bugging the crap out of me. I had the doc change my medication orders so I take two pills instead of one. This has helped me tremendously. I feel like I can now be better now, least where my pain is concerned.

I wrote out a treatment plan for my case manager last night, I am hoping that it shows that I am trying to work on my issues. I know that this unit cannot work on ALL my issues but I just want to work at least on a little bit so that feel a little better. If I can work on the self-hate and “like” myself a little bit, I think that will decrease my suicidality enough that I can be okay. I will find out tomorrow if this plan is going to be acceptable to my treaters. It is the only think that I have going for me. If they tell me they cannot work with me on this a little bit than I have no other choice than to sign a 3 day and leave AMA [against medical advise]. Course, it might back fire on me and lead to a court commitment but I will worry about that later. Hopefully it doesn’t come to that.

Last night was rough for me as I wanted to write out my will and testament and a good bye letter to my friend. Actually, it was more to write out what I want him to do in case of my demise. My contact person talked me out of doing this. She wanted me to work on a self-compassionate letter instead. I have yet to write this. I might work on that today, though it is going to be difficult.

I had a tough day with family. One of my cousins called and wanted me to visit him but when I told him I was in the hospital, it was like I did it on purpose and didn’t want to see him as he told me in advance he was coming up {he lives in Virginia}. I felt very upset by this. I then told him not to tell my aunt about my being in the hospital because I don’t want her to know. He then flipped out about that. It was like a no win situation with him that just left me feeling upset. Then my sister texted me wanting me to tell her what medication I was on. I just felt like I was being bombarded by family. I didn’t answer my sister’s text.

I talked with my contact person. It was the same one I had last night. She is good and I like talking with her. I told her I was feeling depressed and wasn’t sure if I could keep my safety outside the hospital, which is true. I still am having suicidal thoughts and plans. I don’t know if I would act on those plans but I know that they are still there. I really feel like I should do something. I am feeling agitated and perturbed. I told my contact person that my “normal” voices aren’t there. I am missing them very badly and I think that is what is making me feel perturbed. I hope they come back so that I have someone to talk to. I feel lonely without them.

I am thinking of a good friend tonight. I found out she has suffered a stroke and is in the ICU. Her left side is affected and so is her speech. She is a very religious person so I know that god will take good care of her. I just hope she doesn’t suffer. If you bloggers can send her good thoughts, I would most appreciate it.

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Finally SOME progress

I met with the rounding doc today. He changed my pain meds so I get two pills instead of one. I can now breathe a sigh of relief.

I had a good check on with my contact person. We talked about my book and how suicide is so ingrained in my life. It fascinates me. She also gave me a new innovated therapy that might help me. I agreed to look it up.

As far as she can tell, there is no set discharge date for me. The means I am going to be here a while. I wrote down some goals for the case manager for Monday. I was going to write my will and good bye letters but my contact person said to hold off on that for now. So now I have nothing to do. I just finished writing a letter to my therapist about the day’s events. I took a shower even though it killed me to do so. My foot HATES me right now. But I took my night meds so the only reason I would have to get out of bed is to shut the lights or go to the bathroom. I am glad the day is done. It has been a restless day because I wasn’t sure if the rounder would change the orders. It was nerve racking and the doc kept on saying that I had bipolar I disorder, like I didn’t know my diagnosis. I don’t think I have true bipolar but if you ate going to be technical, I guess I do have it. I just wish the highs came around more often than every few years.

I really don’t like the term bipolar. I like manic depressive illness better but that is now an archaic term. I’d like to think that I have major depressive illness but because I have had more than one hypomanic episodes, I am bipolar. I feel that is not good as being bipolar has a slightly higher suicide rate than major depression.

I talked to my mother today and we did nothing but argue. She ended the conversation with don’t call me until I am coming home. It was so infuriating. So I am done calling her. I don’t care anymore, I have enough on my plate.

I keep thinking about suicide and how I would do it when I get out of here. I emailed my pdoc to see if she would be ok with me being discharged while she was still on vacation. I haven’t heard back from her yet. I don’t think I will actually kill myself but I just want to get out of here. I just want to be free and in my own bed again. I doubt this place will help me anyways.

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