Demons are out tonight

Demons are out tonight


I am feeling frustrated for many reason, one of which is that I can’t seem to get to sleep despite being really tired. I just am not sleepy enough for sleep. The other part is that I am slightly suicidal because my menses have returned and there is nothing I can do about it until next week. I should have stopped the pill on Sunday when I had some discharge on Saturday but didn’t think it was anything. HA I was wrong. I am so mad at myself. I feel like ending it because I hate being a woman. No amount of talking about it is going to change that fact. I feel disgusted with myself.


For the past half hour, I have been thinking more about talking to the Twitter buddy of mine to see if he can recommend someone for me. Thing is, I don’t know what kind of therapist I want. I really don’t want a DBT therapist. I really don’t want any therapist other than the one I am seeing. My therapist wants me to see someone face to face. I just can’t bear the thought of seeing someone and then have them reject me because of my past suicidal history. And the fact that I still have suicidal thoughts still puts me at high risk. No therapist wants that. I am so frustrated. I know that I just need to get a zipcar and see my therapist at least once a month. I think that will satisfy her need to see me. Other than that, I don’t know what else to do. I feel so hopeless about it.


I asked a good friend of mine to get his input on the situation. I don’t know what he will say. I feel like giving up at this point. The “why bothers” have kicked in, which is part of the reason I can’t fucking sleep. I feel so sad. I have my fucking menses, I am in pain because my ankle is a jerk, and I just feel suicidal because I can be. I also have been feeling really paranoid. I took my perphenazine earlier tonight. That took away some of the voices and stuff until I got a damn migraine that blinded me. Half my face went throbbing and I couldn’t see because it affected my eyesight. All I could do was be in the dark until the meds worked. This was around 2030. It’s now past 0100. I am so damn tired of living in pain. I am tired of being psychotic because I am stressed out. Between world events and my PCP leaving, it just caused me to be stressed out. Whenever I get stressed, I have a psychotic break. I still believe aliens are controlling those bad people. I can’t call them by the group because I am being monitored by the FBI. Today while at the bus stop, a bag was left by itself. I grew more paranoid that a bomb was in it. Then when the bus came, my bus, the owner of the bag took it. I was ready to call the police because it was just sitting there by its lonesome self. Why do people do that?? It really scared me. Then the voices started and the hallucinations that I was being watched began. I can’t shake that I am being watched and the voices aren’t helping me. I don’t feel safe anymore and I want to die. I don’t want to be in a world where there are aliens that want to control you and make you do bad things to people. I have known this for months now. No one believes me and I find this so sad. It really hurts. I don’t think my therapist believes me, and she is the closest thing I have to a best friend at the moment.


This is why I can’t see anyone else. Another therapist is just going to think that I suffer from delusions and that I am paranoid. I haven’t heard back from my psychiatrist. I wish should would respond to my damn emails. Maybe I should page her but it’s past 0100. She will be worried if I page her at this hour. But I can’t sleep. Maybe I should take another Ativan. It might calm me down enough to get some sleep. I don’t want to take another trilafon or it will mess with my bowels. I won’t go and that will be a problem. I am not doing anything today. Only thing on the agenda is to call my friend and see if he would like to have dinner one day next week or the end of this week. I really want to go to my favorite Thai restaurant and have my favorite food. I already know what I want so there is no reason to look at the menu. Spring rolls, Pad Thai, Curry Puffs, and drunken chicken to go. I will have the drunken chicken for lunch the following day. I think I have rice, if not I will buy some.


What is really troubling me is that I will have to deal with the menses situation for two weeks instead of one. Sure I can stop the pill now but that will mean having to start the pill again on a Tuesday and I really would hate that. I like having it on Sunday so I don’t screw up. I am such an idiot. Next time, first time of any bleeding I am stopping the pill on Sunday. This is all my fault. I should really be punished somehow. I’d kick my ass but I can’t reach that far behind myself. I am such a fucking idiot.


I have decided to not go on Facebook anymore. All I am doing is hiding stupid shit. People are getting really racist and I don’t like it. They keep comparing the Jewish people of WWII to the Syrian refugees. It’s killing me because the US is not accepting them in some states. Then they are saying that our vets need homes because they are homeless. I agree on that front. Our military should be taken cared of first and foremost. Why provide housing to these refugees when our former military are living in the streets. It’s a dire situation. It angers me that no one cares, especially our presidential nominees. They all should go to hell for allowing the military to lose their homes. Pisses me off.


Then today I read that people aren’t taking Borderline personality disorder seriously. Hell some even confused it with Bipolar disorder. OMG are you fucking serious? They are not the same. One is an Axis I diagnosis (bipolar disorder),  the second is an Axis II diagnosis (BPD). What really pisses me off is when they use BPD for bipolar! It’s BP!!! I wish they kept the manic depressive diagnosis rather than call it fucking bipolar. It doesn’t denote the illness at all. Another pisser today that has my underwear in a twist, so to speak.


So the reason the demons are out tonight is because I have my menses, I am suicidal, and psychotic. In the mean time, I can’t fucking sleep. No sleep, more aggravation. Think I will listen to some piano sonatas to try and calm down along with taking an Ativan.

Published by

G. Collerone

suicide attempt survivor writing about the hopelessness that accompanies depression that no one likes to talk about. also writing about my daily struggle with chronic pain and how it affects my suicidality

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