Quote of the day 27 Nov 2015

The moment that the idea of the possibility of stopping consciousness (popularly called “death”) occurs to the anguished mind as the answer or the way out in the presence of the three essential ingredients of suicide (unusual constriction, elevated perturbation, and high lethality), then the igniting spark has been struck and the active suicidal scenario has begun. Edwin Shneidman, Definition of Suicide

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Mixed Drinks About Feelings lyrics

Mixed Drinks About Feelings”

Turn on a neon light
At least make it feel like night
Put on some this or that
And maybe I won’t feel so bad
Need a little background noise
To drown out this little voice
Running circles ’round my brain
Screaming louder than the pain

My head is spinning
My resolve is reeling
I can tell by the heavy in my heart
I’m going down soon
No use fighting the fight
It’s no contest tonight
My figured out’s never been more confused
Having mixed drinks about feelings and you

Turn off the bedroom light
Put on a brave face and face the night
It’s either get used to this dread
Or the cold spot in our bed
The bottle helps, but the memory burns
The whiskey soothes, but I toss and turn
I’ll find sleep ’til dreams relent
Wake up tired and try again

My head is spinning
My resolve is reeling
I can tell by the heavy in my heart
I’m going down soon
No use fighting the fight
It’s no contest tonight
My figured out’s never been more confused
Having mixed drinks about feelings and you
Having mixed drinks about feelings and you

Turn on a neon light
At least make it feel like night


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Mixed Drinks

Mixed Drinks

As I was writing my last blog, a blogger friend that I have known for the past three years was having a hard time and I think she cut. I tried reaching out to her but got no response. I have been thinking about drinking all night. If I didn’t have to get up early tomorrow, I might seriously be considering it right now. I just feel so bad. I know what it’s like to have intense emotions you can’t control. Or to be in so much pain you want to cut to release it. It has been many years since I last cut, but sometimes I still get the urge. It’s just like drinking, just a different drug.

Thing that bothers me is that not only did my friend not reach out, I also gave her my number during our last Facebook message. Told her she could call anytime. I tried messaging her but I think she either blocked me or deactivated her FB account. I feel like I lost a friend to mental illness and there is nothing that I can do about it. It is not a good feeling to sit with.

I am not usually a drinker. I will drink occasionally. Tonight I had some wine after dinner. Not much, just a few sips to taste the new wine that my brother in law’s nephew brought over. It was good wine. But it turned on the drinker in me. I usually binge drink, especially when I am feel low. I usually resist the urge but tonight the urge is strong, even though I am still feeling full from all the good food that I ate tonight. I think if I drink, I might puke and I don’t want to be doing that. I already have been sneezing my head off for whatever reason. With every sneeze, my right side seizes with pain. I think I might have a hernia. Whatever the pain was, it seems to have abated for now.

I need to get some sleep but both my whiskey and gin bottles are staring at me. If I have the gin, I know it will burn going down. The whiskey has honey in it so that scares me because I can drink more than I should with no problem as it’s sweet. It’s not harsh like whiskey usually is. That is why I have just a quarter of a bottle left. It’d be no problem finishing it off. I won’t mix the gin with the whiskey, that is just gross. I am not sure even how it would taste. But I need to stay sober at least till tomorrow night. Then all bets are off.

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Feeling Low Again

Feeling low again

I knew the good feelings that I had this morning were not going to last. I am crashing and it’s not fun. I don’t think it was hypomanic stuff because that usually last more than a few hours. I really think this is the crash that I never had when I was hypomanic. I don’t feel suicidal, but I would welcome death. I just want a cessation of feelings.

I am really full from all that I ate. I was so full from real food that I didn’t have dessert. There was no room for it. My mother made five pies and no one touched two of them. So the chocolate cream pie and custard are all mine. Those are the two that I love. I didn’t have the pumpkin pie my sister made. I really wanted to try it but I was afraid my stomach would bust if I did.

Now I am in my room and I am feeling like scum of the earth. It wouldn’t be a holiday without my father ragging on me for something. Apparently, I was supposed to bring the wine directly to my sister’s house, that day. He didn’t tell me this. I just assumed today would be fine. Plus, I had no idea if she would be home or not. I got very annoyed. I still am annoyed because I don’t get what the big fucking deal was. It wasn’t like the wine was going to go bad. It wasn’t opened, it wasn’t refrigerated when he gave it to me, and there was no indication to me that my sister was expecting the wine. He just likes making a big deal over nothing. Pisses me off. So that started the day. Now I want something stronger than wine to drink. Think I will have some Honey Whiskey before bed. Screw the drug interactions. I really don’t care. A shot or two won’t hurt.

I still am in awe that my therapist suggested that I do something with my blog that I wrote the other day. I still think it’s a work in progress though it will be going in my book. I don’t think I can publish it anywhere else. Even if I could publish it elsewhere, the NYT experience was something else. I don’t think I can do it again. I give credit to Kay Redfield Jamison. She can write and be successful. I am sure she has dealt with the negative stuff, too. But the difference is, I don’t remember what the hell I wrote the other night. I know it was a “successful” blog because there were a lot of hits on my stats and a blogger friend reposted it on her blog, so that generated more hits (thank you for that). All I do remember writing is the part where I am questioning whether my therapist is going to respond to a text I wrote her. That is the only thing that I remember from it. My blogger friend wrote that it was a description of depression. Someone else wrote that it was something that they couldn’t put into words. I suppose I should read it over one of these days. I think I will combine it with the blog I wrote on what it is like being suicidal. Those two will give me enough wordage for a chapter.

I wonder how many people with depression often feel dead inside. Another blogger friend was writing this tonight and it got me thinking. I often feel this way, but it’s more an emptiness than a dead feeling. But the words can be interchangeable, emptiness and dead. You just feel like nothing and that you rather be dead than alive. Or you feel more dead than alive, whatever that is. I have no idea what is meant by “being alive”. I don’t think I ever felt that way. Maybe when I was hypo, but that was feeling really good. That I remember like it was yesterday, even though it was months ago. I don’t know if it was the same as feeling “alive” but I know that it was better than feeling what I am feeling now, like shit.

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Thanksgiving 2015

Thanksgiving 2015

There are a few things I am grateful for that I would like to share this Thanksgiving. One is having my story published in the New York Times. Having two sisters that accept me for being transgender, even though we don’t talk about it. Having three nieces and a nephew that I love dearly and love me back.

It has been a difficult week. I haven’t felt too grateful for things because the depression has been so bad but today is a better day, least for now it is. I can’t say it will be better this evening when my lows return. I think eating has a little to do with my mood. I ate this early this morning and was still hungry when I woke up a few hours later. This is surprising because I had a good sized piece of steak last night. Usually when I have it, I am not hungry until later in the afternoon.

I texted my family members this morning. I haven’t called my Godmother yet. I probably will after this blog. I am thankful she is still alive. Still 91 and kicking, even though she has a multitude of health problems. I feel bad that I am less than half her age and have my own set of health problems.

I get to see her asshole brother aka my father today. I have to remember to bring the wine he gave me though I was very tempted to break the bottle on the way home yesterday. I could barely walk and he gives me something to carry. It wasn’t that heavy but it was light either. I know he is going to drink half the fucking thing. It’s white wine so I won’t have any. White wine always gives me the worst hangover, even having one glass gives me a bad headache.

My mother is making the turkey and the house smells so yummy. I can’t wait to eat it. I hope that my father doesn’t be an asshole today. My leg is still aching so I will be using my cane again. It’s just a reminder that I am never 100%. I have to take a shower, though I don’t feel like it. My shower is making a funny noise after a few minutes of running water. My brother in law thinks it’s the valve in the turn off valve. I think there’s air in the lines because the water loses pressure when the noise starts. But I have to stick with my every other day schedule of showering and today is a special occasion so I need to bathe. I am not getting dressed up or anything but need to be clean.

I have been invited to my cousin’s 16th birthday party Saturday. I really don’t feel like going as Saturday is usually my me day. I watch my college football games and just do what I feel like doing. I can be a bum and not feel guilty about it. But my cousin from Texas wants to see me so I need to go. I can’t believe my cousin is 16. That would also make 16 years since my uncle passed away. He died on the 22nd and she was born a few days later. I think today is her actual birthday, but I could be wrong. There are so many birthdays on my mother’s side of the family in November alone that it’s hard to keep track.

I really wanted to get a haircut this month but I don’t think it’s going to happen. It might happen after I have my dinner date with my friend. I just want to make sure I have enough cash for that as I am treating him. I don’t think it’s going to cost more than $100 but I want to make sure I have enough just in case. We will be going to our favorite Thai restaurant. I can’t wait because I have been wanting Pad Thai for some time now. They make the best Pad Thai I ever had. I have had it at a couple of places in my area but it doesn’t compare. I am excited about seeing my friend again. We always have a good time. He is an older gentleman that I used to work with when the lab was called chemistry. It’s now called Core Lab because we merged with Hematology. I do miss working there.

I am still addicted to Eric Church’s album “Mr. Misunderstood”. There is not a song that I don’t like on it. It is a really good CD. It is the first album that I bought from him. I have bought a couple of songs in the past but never an entire album. I am glad I got this one as the music moves me.

Seeing as I could not get my Combos snacks in the store, I have ordered them through Amazon. They have shipped and will be coming to my house sometime next week. Add that to the junk that I bought through my grocery list. I bought more carbs than I know what to do with. All breakfast stuff, but still carbs. The rest of my order was yogurt, hamburger patties, tater tots, and cottage cheese. I did get my burrito wraps so I had a breakfast wrap when I woke up. I love making breakfast burritos. It’s so fun. This one I didn’t make tight enough as some cheese fell out. I also bought shredded Monterey cheese for my eggs. I really didn’t know how much stuff I bought until the guy delivered it. It was a lot of stuff to put away. No wonder my leg hated me afterwards.

Posted in Bipolar Disorder, blogging, cauda equina syndrome, chronic physical pain, depression, mood disorders | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Don’t force me to be grateful

Source: Don’t force me to be grateful

Posted in suicide attempt | 2 Comments

Quote of the Day 26 Nov 2015

Dyadic suicides are those in which death relates primarily to the deep unfulfilled needs and wishes pertaining to the significant other-the partner in the important current dyad in the victim’s life. These suicides are primarily social in their nature.-Edwin Shneidman, Definition of Suicide

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Pain in the thigh and other things

Pain in the thigh and other things

I still feel low and in the dumps. As expected, my therapist told me all the reasons why I should be living. She even wants me to publish the blog I wrote last night. I don’t know why. I don’t think it’s any good. But then, it has so many hits today that it must be good. People don’t read something bad. I just feel like I am wasting my time living and all I can do is express myself the best I know how.

I did the errand for my father. I was walking with a cane because my leg is not feeling so good. I had twitches last night and it left it sore as hell. I can barely walk. He laughed when he saw me with the cane. That is my father for you. He only cares about himself and that is all. I feel worse after my excursion to his house and back. I don’t know what I was thinking. I just know I really didn’t want to go to his place tomorrow so I did it today. Now I am hurting more and all I want to do is take my pain meds and go to sleep.

Groceries came today. Putting them away was the start of my agony. I was walking all over the house putting the groceries here and there where they belonged. The fridge was full so I had limited space to put my refrigerated items. I got “permission” to eat my pumpkin pie as my sister is making one. I think that will be my dinner. I was going to make my steak but I don’t feel like cooking. I haven’t eaten too much today. I had a yogurt, some cottage cheese, and a pop tart. Now I feel like puking. I don’t even think I am going to go over my sister’s for Thanksgiving tomorrow. I really don’t want to be around anyone. I am just feeling so miserable.

This thigh pain that I am feeling really scared me. It reminded me about the time nine years ago I had my surgery. It took months to get it back to functioning. My therapist called it PTSD as I had an anxiety attack about an hour and a half before our session. The pain was so bad that it just caused anxiety for me. I told her about my feelings last night where I wanted to drink alcohol after I took my night meds. I thought better of it as whiskey and baclofen probably would not be a good idea. I hadn’t taken any pain meds because I wasn’t in any pain. I just had this twitching going on. I emailed my psychiatrist but I haven’t heard back from her. I also emailed her my story. I did take some Ativan too to stop the damn twitching after it went on for about two and half hours. I am so sick of worrying whether I am going to get cauda equina syndrome again or not. Every time I have some weird pain in my leg, I freak out and panic. I have been on edge all day. But the pain isn’t radiating and it’s not affecting my bowels or bladder. I have to go through a checklist every single time I get pain in my leg or back. If I don’t have this then I don’t have that. It’s awful. That is why I can never recover from PTSD. I am always triggered.

My heaviness in my heart is still there. The fact that I have found a song that equates my feelings perfectly helps. Jennifer Nettles just came out with a new song called “unlove you”. It’s another good sad song. But it doesn’t touch me as much as “Mixed Drinks about Feelings”. My therapist today was quiet most of the time. She really wanted to listen to me today though she wanted to go off on me. I don’t think she can tolerate my sadness. It brings her to want to do something to help me but there is nothing that she can do. Listening to her when she did speak did help me. It gave me some hope that there might be a tomorrow. I can’t tolerate today. It’s too painful.

A childhood friend of mine posted a meme about transgender. It was something like we shouldn’t make processed foods so why should we have processed people, meaning transgenders. It was that most offensive thing I have ever seen. I stopped following him. He has been irritating me for a while now and now I have to unfollow him because of his ignorance. This is part of the reason why I don’t seek treatment. I am too afraid of the discrimination I will face.

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Quote of the Day 25 Nov 2015

“When people are suicidal, their thinking is paralyzed, their options appear spare or nonexistent, their mood is despairing, and hopelessness permeates their entire mental domain. The future cannot be separated from the present, and the present is painful beyond solace. ‘This is my last experiment,’ wrote a young chemist in his suicide note. ‘If there is any eternal torment worse than mine I’ll have to be shown.”

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heavy heart full of pain

Heavy heart full of pain

I have been in a funk the past few hours. I thought it was because I didn’t eat for several hours but I had dinner and my heart sunk lower than it did before eating. I feel really miserable. I just feel really depressed and I don’t know why. That is the hardest part of dealing with this illness. It just takes so much just to go from a to b. I did a lot today but I still feel like I am useless. I feel like I have no purpose. I texted my therapist to tell me it is worth one’s while to live, but I haven’t heard back. I honestly don’t expect a response. She probably will give me a response tomorrow.

I just feel like my heart can’t take any more pain that I am feeling. It is getting to be unbearable. You would think that I would be used to it by now but I am not. It just rips my heart to pieces when the pain is so heavy. It clouds your thinking, but you don’t see it. Everyone seems happy around you and you try to be but inside you are dying. You can’t help but think of death. Least that will stop the hurting. You think of drinking your sorrows away. You think of anything that will ease your hurt. But nothing helps this heavy heart. It weighs on you like a boulder.

No one notices your pain. There are no outward signs that you are in misery. You put on a brave face and no one is the wiser. It is exhausting. It is tiring. It drags you down so deep that you don’t ever think you will reach the surface again. You are just stuck in a tunnel that has no light at the end of it. Nothing brings you joy or pleasure. Not even that one cup of coffee you used to enjoy. It’s tasteless now. Everything tastes bland. What used to have flavor no longer does. It’s so hard to find something you enjoy only to have it taken from you. The anhedonia is so awful. It also makes death more welcoming.

Depression keeps taking and the more you fight it, the more you want to give up. It’s like trying to keep the waves at bay when you are facing a tsunami. The waves are crushing you bit by bit. And you keep wondering why this is happening to you, that you must be a bad person to feel this way. I just think I am a worthless person that everyone seems to think that I am worthwhile. They are sadly mistaken. There is nothing worse than false hope. Yet that is what keeps some days, like today, a little brighter: hope. I wish you can bottle it and take it as a pill sometimes when your heart is weighing you down, because then you are so out of it that nothing seems to matter. You are just thinking of ending your life and that is all that matters to you. No one understands the struggle. No one wants to bear your pain. You are alone though people often tell you are not.  They are not with you in the depths of your despair, when it’s 3 am and you are clinging on to the rafters because the waves are overwhelming you. No, death is much more pleasurable than living. Sleep offers no solace from the terrors you face. It is short, too short to offer any comfort anymore. It seems to happen in a blink of an eye. A constant state of sleep deprivation doesn’t help the depression or the aching soul.

Death must happen swiftly to ease the broken heart. It’s the only remedy this disease calls for. The pain is too much for the heart to take. The weight is too much to bear. It screams louder than the pain inside. It’s like a tea kettle without the whistle. The pressure building but no release valve in sight. One day the heart will beat no more and the misery will end.

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