My therapist and I were talking about my suicidality and she called me a mensch. At first, I thought she said wench and I was like wow, she is calling me a bad name for the first time. But when I asked her to repeat it, she said Mensch, with an “m”. She looked it up in her dictionary to find the meaning. I laughed because she had the book not an electronic one on her phone like most people now a days. I sometimes forget they still exist. Anyways, the word mensch means “person of integrity and honor”. I had to look up the spelling of the word (as I had no clue how to spell Jewish words. She said it was a Jewish word.) Leave it to her to call me that when I feel like crap. It does fit me, though I would always be expected to be called something other than that, given how I feel.
Time went slower today in session than it did yesterday. We were talking about how my father always gives me a hard time and just expects me to jump when he calls. He called today and wanted me to go over to his house for his meds as he was out. I couldn’t go because my ankle was a bitch. It was raining anyways, which didn’t help my pain levels at all. I asked my sister to go as she works down the street from him. I told her what he needed for tonight and I would fill the rest tomorrow. She texted back that he was running low on one of his meds. Great. I would either have to call the pharmacy or the doctor’s office tomorrow. I won’t know until I get there. He didn’t care that I was in pain. How typical. All this guy cares about is himself and his needs. Makes me sick.
So my therapist talked about this for a while. We also talked about me not wanting to be around for my birthday that is coming up in a couple weeks. She told me it is unlikely that I will be talking to her that day. Her daughter has a half day of school and she needs to be out of the office to pick her up. She has a short week that week so I don’t know if we can schedule another time. Not that it really matters. I really don’t want anyone making a fuss about it. My family included. They are planning this big party but they aren’t sure where they are going to have it. I don’t even know when or where it is going to be. I told them I would rather just have it with just my immediate family members (my nieces, nephew, mother, father, and sisters) than have it with extended family. But my sisters are not hearing me. It’s making me upset. I rather they do it at my youngest sister’s place when her kitchen is all finished. I’ll still be the same number so what is the big deal? And with me just not wanting to be here anyway, it’s just increasing my suicidality.
I finished off the SSD paperwork and will be mailing it in tomorrow. I wasn’t leaving the house today unless it was burning down. I just hurt too much. My therapist was happy with what I wrote. I just hope that the SSD people see that I am still disabled. I might not have been in the hospital for a year now, but that is the only improvement. I might have to be if this birthday thing gets worse. I was also telling my therapist that I don’t want to be here because of the increase in pain and would try something after I say goodbye to my PCP for the last time. He is leaving the practice and I will be seeing someone I don’t know. I just can’t deal with change and stress. My therapist pointed out that she is not going anywhere and that I can’t leave my pdoc hanging while she is recovering from surgery. Usually her saying these things makes me re-think things about my death but not this time. I think I am in deep constriction and I want a way out. Come to think of it, talking to her the same day as the day I see my PCP will be the last time I talk to her, too. Only thing is, I don’t really have a plan. Going to have to think of one between now and then.
After our session, I took some pain meds as my ankle was really hurting. I was waiting for the session to end to take them because I didn’t want to be loopy Lou while talking to her. I’m still feeling loopy Lou because I haven’t been able to sleep off the meds. I just can’t seem to fall asleep when I lie down. If I am sitting up, I am dozing off but soon as I lie down, forget it, I am awake. I have gotten so used to my pain waking me up and startling me that I think lying down just gives me flashbacks and I am unable to relax enough to sleep. That is why it takes me so damn long to actually fall asleep sometimes. Last night despite me telling Twitter world that I was passing out, it took me at least an hour to actually do so. It really sucks having PTSD.