Problems

Problems

I have problems. Quite a few. I have mental illness and chronic physical pain. Both make me want to take my life. I know that you might think that the depression is causing me to think about it but it really isn’t. I am not depressed. I am in pain and when pain levels get beyond a certain point for me, I think about killing myself.

It’s after midnight. My therapist texted me back about how sorry she is that I am in pain. I asked her if I should take my heavy dose of pain meds as the moderate pain meds have not touched my pain and it is too soon to take another dose. Now my toes have been on fire and feel like they are in a vise. I hate feeling this way.

Pain is the main reason most people want to kill themselves. There has been multiple studies about how people in chronic pain want to end their life because it is not a malignant type of pain. Meaning that it is not terminal, you are not going to die from whatever it is causing you this pain. I have what is called complex regional pain syndrome that was caused by cauda equina syndrome. I have been suffering with this CRPS the past year and a half. I was diagnosed finally sometime in November in 2011. Once I was diagnosed, my life began to fall apart. I quit one of my two jobs and then four months later I was out of my second job because they could not accommodate my medical restrictions. I basically can’t walk correctly. I tried to correct it with an AFO but the pain still persists. Like tonight. My leg is swollen and I really want to fillet it open to get the shit out of it. But it will be against medical advice to do so. I don’t know why. My theory is that if the shit was drained it might get better. I don’t have the equipment to really drain it but I can cut it open and squeeze the until the shit comes out. Or maybe I just want to see the blood and see what color it is. You see when the pain gets this bad, I don’t think my leg is mine anymore. I think it belongs to an alien so why not cut it. I might not have a scalpel but I have sharp razors. I have bandages. I have tape. Cutting is something that I am familiar with but I am used to cutting my wrist up. I have the scars to prove it. The only thing that is really stopping me is the sound. A few years ago I cut my leg to see if it would stop the pain. And I didn’t like the sound. It was like cardboard getting cut. My leg was cardboard and there was even little blood. It was like I didn’t cut at all no matter how deep I was cutting.

So what am I to do except to write about how sucky my life is because of these conditions. So I have problems that no one has any answers for. That no one can help me with. It is very frustrating and makes you feel alone. You want to reach out but who do you reach out to at midnight or time after that? It was a fluke that my therapist answered me. She usually doesn’t answer my texts. I could page my psychiatrist but there is nothing she can do except tell me to go to the emergency room. I don’t want to stay there all night for a psych consult that will just end up sending me home anyway. I’m self-injurious but I am not suicidal at the moment. I’ll be able to get out of the hospital admission by saying that I promise not to do it. Which I won’t because I really don’t want to hear that sound.

Music is awesome. On my MP3 player Love Story is playing, it is my favorite time of all time. A song that I can listen to over and over again without getting sick of it. And it relaxes me. So maybe between the two pain killers, and the rest of my meds I can finally go to sleep…