Category: Bipolar Disorder

Sunday Blog 11

by Midnight Demon, posted in Bipolar Disorder, blogging, chronic physical pain, depression, mood disorders

Sunday Blog 11

I finished off the left over Chinese food for dinner. I am still hungry though. I might make a tuna sandwich later if I am really hungry. I haven’t had it in a while. I am trying not to have an Ensure and eat real food. It’s hard though because the Ensure will fill me up and is around 350 calories. I haven’t been eating more than 1000 calories a day lately which is why I have been continuing to lose weight.

I talked with my psychiatrist. She continued to assure me that what I am feeling and experiencing is normal. She hopes that the “movies” about my father’s death will fade with time. I keep reliving the last two hours of his life. Being in my father’s apartment yesterday for five hours didn’t help me.

While I was describing what was happening to my psychiatrist, I got sad and started to cry a little. I was just overwhelmed with sadness. She wants me to continue to write about my experiences. She said that it was amazing that I could articulate what I was feeling. That made me feel a little better.

My middle sister keeps posting pictures of my father when he was younger. It is kind of bothering me but I understand she wants to express her grief at losing him. She misses him. I don’t. I am still expecting him to call any minute saying he has some type of pain and needs to be taken to the hospital. Or asking me when I will be over his house to do his meds. It was weird filling my pill box this afternoon knowing I won’t be doing my father’s anymore. It is hard. I can’t wrap my head around it. I guess that is why I am still numb at times.

I never wrote the blog for the Daily Post. I started it but my mind kept blanking out. Then the song that has been in my head all day came on my music player and thought some more of what I should write but nothing came of it. I started a letter to my therapist thinking it might get me going. Nope, nothing. I wrote a small paragraph and blanked out on what I wanted to say. Fuck.

I went to Walgreens and got some mailers so I can mail my book to my cousin that wants a signed copy. I also got a thank you card for my father’s PCP. I will mail it when I have the energy to fill it out. Just like I will mail my cousin’s book basically when I am up to it. I am still playing catch up with the blur that was last week. I need a few days of doing nothing. I just want to stay at home. I don’t even want to go to Starbucks. I still have no interest in the Red Sox. I know when they are playing and I follow the tweets on Twitter, but I could care less. I have no idea what place they are in, who is doing well, who is sucking, nothing.

My pain levels are up. My foot has been cramping most of the day and now my ankle is painful. It’s been raining off and on all day so I think that is why. I took some pain meds but I think I need to take Neurontin because my foot is on fire. I think 1200 mg will be a good dose. 900 wasn’t giving me long enough relief.

One day I will write about the events that happened last Monday. I think writing about it will help ease the “movie” that keeps running rampant in my brain. I still feel like I should have done more for him. I know I couldn’t call 911 or something to help him but there had to be something I could have done so that he would be okay. Maybe I just didn’t want him to die. As much as I planned on it and expected it, I still didn’t want to lose my father, even if he was a bastard.

Thinking of Stuff at 0300

by Midnight Demon, posted in Bipolar Disorder, blogging, depression, mood disorders

Thinking of Stuff at 0300

I woke up from a weird dream I was having. It was something about two women going through diving training. Now I am up and I can’t seem to go back to sleep. I keep thinking about my cousins in Italy and France. It’s hard to communicate with them because they don’t know English and we don’t know Italian or French. The only way to communicate is through a translator or via Google, which is not ideal as sometimes the translation doesn’t say what we want it to say. I never picked up the language of Italian, even when I was taking it in college. And if you don’t use it, you lose it.

I was going to take a shower but I still haven’t. It’s so hard taking care of myself. I had a friend ask if I was going to go in the hospital. I don’t think I need to be but I will ask my psych when I talk to her in about 11 hours from now. I think I want to help my sisters clean out my father’s apartment. Then we will be able to relax a little bit and mourn him.

I’m still feeling relieved that my father has passed. I have been thinking about all the shit that he had pulled over the last few months of his life. Between the hospitalizations and waiting on him night and day, it was really difficult. I will never forget the gurgling sounds he made or the pain he was in. I am just glad that he died peacefully without gasping for air or something.

I don’t think I will be going back to sleep. I have tried and I seem to be waking up anyways. I give up. I am going to make some coffee and I am sure that will keep me up for a little while. I don’t know why sometimes it makes me sleepy but it makes me have a restful sleep. It’s weird. I also will shower after I have my coffee, I think.

Today’s Daily Prompt is “scars”. I will write a blog about that later today. I’m kind of nervous to page my psychiatrist. The last time she wanted me to page her in the afternoon I was going for around 1500 and she wanted it earlier. She sent me an email asking where I was. When I talked to her, I said our views of afternoon are different. I plan on calling her around 1400 or so, maybe 1330. I sent her the blog I wrote last night before I went to bed. The previous blog that I sent her that took me about three hours to write, she gave me some feedback on it. She said it was powerful and compelling. I really thought it was a piece of shit. I still do. Lately, I have been feeling that all my blogs are shit. It takes me a long time to write and I feel like it doesn’t flow very well because I am writing in spurts. Someone at the wake or funeral asked how my writing was going. I said it wasn’t going because I had to take care of my father. It’s been a long three months. I have just been writing blogs because there is nothing else for me to write. I can’t remember a “good” blog that I wrote in that span of time. I know my writing is getting better and after I write things I sort of edit what I write to try and make it sound better. But I just feel like my writing has suffered so much since my father got really sick. I don’t know if I can get back on track with my book. Maybe a hospital stay will give me ideas.

I don’t know what it is about being on a locked unit for a few days to two weeks. It helps calm down some part of me that is going all the time. It’s like I can finally relax because I am safe from myself and my environment. The only time when things weren’t going well in the hospital is when the unit was being inspected by the JCAHO commission. Every staff member was tense and it was a very unsettling feeling. You could cut the tension with a knife (if you had one) it was so bad. Soon as the inspection was over, there was relief on the unit. It was the most tense hospitalization that I ever had. Needless to say, but the second day, I wanted to go home but I think I stuck it out for a few more days. It was difficult to get in a groove. When I am in the hospital, I like to do my own thing. I rarely attend groups and I just keep to myself. I don’t really isolate but I do solitary things like write in my journal or listen to music. If it is on the unit that I like, there is a space I like to hang out in to do my writing. Otherwise, I am in my room. It helps to stabilize me. And if I need to, I hang out at the nurse’s station when my emotions are overwhelming. Being there lets the staff know I am not doing okay even though I am not talking about it. Sometimes, my contact person will check in with me more frequently when I am there.

I don’t know if I need a hospitalization right now because I am still numb from my father’s death. Occasionally, I will feel sadness but for the most part, I don’t feel anything. The shock of his death is over, though I keep replaying the events in my mind. I don’t know when that movie is going to end.

End of a Long Week

by Midnight Demon, posted in Bipolar Disorder, blogging, chronic physical pain, depression, mood disorders

End of a Long Week

Just came from my sister’s apartment. For the last two hours we have been writing out thank you notes for all the support, flowers, and what have you for my father’s wake and funeral. I didn’t think we would get it done this soon. I really didn’t, but my sister is frantic and wants to get everything done now. We still haven’t done his apartment yet. That will be sometime next week. I told my sisters I will take care of my father’s doctors, except his oncologist who was an ass in the end.

Tomorrow I am going to page my psychiatrist like I said I would and then spend the day in my bed, probably writing blogs whenever I feel like it, so be warned. I actually don’t know what I am going to do tomorrow but I know it’s going to be minimal. I did order Chinese food so I have that for left overs. Maybe read a book that I started but haven’t finished yet. The last book I finished was in February. I have the Harry Potter book in my hospital bag. I haven’t touched it in weeks. Then I have Dostoevsky that I haven’t touched since I don’t know when. I really want to concentrate on his book as it’s so long. I really want to start Crime and Punishment after I finish Brothers Karamazov. Those are the two goals I have.

Being at my father’s apartment today really got to me. I felt trapped and isolated, which is probably how he felt with his illness and always being tired. I still cannot get over the rapid decline. My sister gave me a copy of the death certificate and now it’s real to me that my father is gone. Well, kind of real. I am still expecting him to call. I still have his number (though it’s disconnected) in my phone. I still have his dead sister’s number in my phone as well. I just can’t let go of her. I know I will delete my father’s number one day. It’s just not today.

I feel really sad. I am also tired. It’s been a long day with waiting for those idiots. I plan on complaining soon as I get the energy to figure out what I am going to say. It should not have taken them all week to pick up the equipment.

I am feeling suicidal. I just want my pain to end. I got the means to do it. I just don’t know if I have the courage to go through with it because I know how hard it is to pay for a funeral now. I really don’t want a wake or a funeral. Just cremate me without all the hooplas.

Five fucking hours

by Midnight Demon, posted in Bipolar Disorder, blogging, depression, mood disorders

Five fucking hours

I am so fucking glad these Oxygen people came for their equipment. I waited five fucking hours in my dead father’s apartment for them. They called me around 1445 to tell me they are lost. I was so pissed. The other guys knew where the apartment was. So annoying.

I got some stuff that I wanted from my father. Then when I was on my way home, my sister called and wanted me to bring home the eggs in the fridge. Really? You couldn’t tell me that when I was on the phone with you three hours ago?? I am so aggravated. Then on the bus this disabled lady comes on, and immediately spills her coffee at the front of the bus. The whole bus ride smelled like French vanilla. I got off three stops before my usual one to walk off the steam. I was so annoyed.

My mother called to ask if I ate. I haven’t had anything since I got to my father’s apartment at around 1000. I am not hungry because I am so aggravated. Maybe if I calm down, I will have something. I feel like ordering Chinese food but am afraid of spending $30 on food and not being able to eat it. I finally found a good restaurant that delivers, though you have to spend a minimum of $25 and they charge a delivery fee. So worth it though to have decent Chinese food.

I didn’t do anything but listen to music while at my father’s and go through some of his things. I took stuff off his wall that he had pinned up. He won’t be needing his reminders of doctors appointments anymore. I got a shaving kit that he never used. It must have been in his apartment for a while because there was at least an inch of dust on it. I also took the rest of his Ensure and his soap that wasn’t opened. My sister had bought him Dove because he got really dry skin and was scratching himself though he blamed it on bugs biting him. We had I don’t know how many exterminators come to his apartment and they never saw these bugs. After my father got some steroid cream, the bug bites stopped and we didn’t hear anything more of it. Though he kept spraying himself with alcohol to prevent bug biting him. He was a character.

I played the Powerball tonight because it’s $314 million. I played two quick pics. The first one has my father’s month and year of birth. The second has my Godfather’s birthday. Fucking weird. Hope it comes out.