tough day 2

Tough Day

I am having a tough day where all I want to do is sleep. My ankle is killing me because we had snow this morning and it’s cold. The temps that were in the 70s a few days ago are now in the 30s. I am surprised my back isn’t acting up. I am feeling cold and hot at times. I don’t know why that is. I just want to hide under the covers.

I sent my psych an email late last night telling her I was having a hard time. I didn’t go into specifics. She emailed me back this morning asking if there was anything she could do for me. I really wanted to ask her to send hugs but I felt funny about doing so. I just asked to send good wishes and then explained that my father was in the hospital again. I don’t want to go out today, at all, so I will see him tomorrow. I also told her that I planned on taking a shower but I wouldn’t hold my breath to it. My ankle is just too sore to stand for that long. I just finished making lunch and already it’s acting up. Think today is just a pain medication and sleep day.

After I had lunch, I took my NSAID. I haven’t been taking it regularly because of my not eating. Now that I have my appetite back, I can take it without worry of it burning a hole in my stomach. I won’t be joining BPD Chat tonight because they are talking about the stigma of the diagnosis and I don’t have BPD.

why do I keep fighting?

Why do I keep fighting?

I woke up from my nap. My pain level was the same. My mood was shifted a little bit but still dreary. And I just keep asking myself, why do I keep fighting the urge to end things when it’s so damn prominent. I again wanted to take a bottle of pills today. I thought about calling my psychiatrist. I thought of texting a hotline. I texted my therapist with no hope of her returning my text. I don’t know why I bother. She says she wants to be kept in the loop. What good is that if I feel suicidal and she doesn’t get back to me? Not a good system, if you ask me.

I didn’t do anything except listen to music. I read for a little while but then I couldn’t go back to it. My attention span for reading just wasn’t there. I haven’t finished a book in a while. I think February was the last time I did so.

I could have called my psychiatrist. I was afraid she would try and convince me to go to the hospital and I didn’t want to say no to her as I was feeling so crappy. I also didn’t want to argue with her. Most of the arguing was already in my head. I hate feeling this way. Now it’s late at night and I still feel like taking some pills. Why should I fight it? I can still call my psych but I really don’t want to bother her. Thing is, I would have to page her and my paging success haven’t been to successful in the past. There used to be a number that I had that you would get a person to page her but I have lost the number. I just have a paging system number that I don’t even know if it still works. I know if it goes through, she will call me back when she can.

What am I fighting for exactly? Why don’t I just give in to what I feel is right? Ending my life is what I want. I am tired of being in pain, emotionally, mentally, and physically. I am so tired of dealing with pain and today was not the worst day but when you get hit with psychache, nothing else matters except killing yourself.

I want to give in so bad. I don’t know why I haven’t. I guess I am afraid that I won’t succeed, that I will be a failure that I know I am. If I had a beam or a gun, things would be different. You just can’t trust pills.

Random 124

I got a text from Walgreens saying that my prescription was ready. It was the Zoloft that I put in last week. I had received a mail order that my doc mistakenly put in so now I have more than a month’s supply of 50 mg. If I want to go up when I see my doc in two weeks, I can do that. There is a difference in color between the mail order pills and Walgreens. I have a light color green and a dark color green. Just hope they work.

After I picked up my script, I decided to have another pastrami and cheese sub from the good sub place. It was better today than it was yesterday. I had breakfast this morning. So now I just need to have dinner and I will be okay. I think the not eating was really playing with my mood because I feel a little better with something in my stomach. I am not saying the depression has gone away but my mood is a little lighter.

While I was at the sub shop, my cousin came in and we talked for a little while. He was trying to get me to write for news papers and such. That really isn’t my thing. I rather just work on my book. I don’t understand why my family pushes me to have a job when I am disabled. I would love to work but I just can’t right now. I am in too much pain and that is just walking around the block to Walgreens and the sub place. I have been walking more but I pay the price and no one really knows this except the blog and Twitter world.

I feel downhearted after talking with him. Even now I am hurting with my ankle flaring up for just the little walking that I did. It really makes me sad that I could have been done with college if I just didn’t have a psychotic breakdown. And now that college is so expensive, there is no way for me to go back and finish my degree.

Last night was rough. I was in a lot of pain and then when I took something for the pain, it increased. It was a tough night to get through. It’s very tiring to deal with pain. I slept until 1230 and that almost never happens. I had woken up around 8 to have breakfast and then I went back to sleep. Now I am in pain again and I just want to give up. I am just so sick of being in pain all the time, every single day. And no one gets it.

just a ramble

About an hour ago, my foot exploded in pain after I took an NSAID and some Neurontin. Now the pain is a little bit more manageable. I keep thinking over today’s events with the AAS conference tweets. I like that my Twitter buddies went to difference speaking engagements so you got different things. I especially liked the Marsha Linehan talk. She is a great person, though I didn’t like her at first. That was many years ago and at a time when DBT was the “thing” to do for people like me.

Now I would love to see CAMS to be the “thing” to do. But I don’t think I will ever find or convince my therapist to take a workshop on CAMS. She thinks her way is the right way and there is no more “learning” to be done because I do it. I am the suicidologist, not her. I think her attitude reflects most therapists that have become set in their ways. She is collaborative, don’t get me wrong and I am grateful for that but when it comes to my suicidality, it increases her anxiety and so I get shafted. I have to “limit” what I tell her so she doesn’t freak out. She has become better since the letter that I sent her last September. She is more willing to do what needs to be done in therapy to help me rather than hinder me. I give her credit for that. I know it wasn’t easy to give up my sessions this week. Whereas before, she wouldn’t think twice about canceling. It would be a no and that would be all. I would have had therapy whether I liked it or not.

I think next month I need to spend more money on my laptop because the cooling fan is going. I saw how it was to be replaced and it’s too complicated for me. I am going to ship it back to Dell and use my old laptop. I should make sure that it works before I send this off. I changed the battery on it because it needed a new one. That was the easy part. I am just grateful I have a backup laptop that I can use for what I need. I know internet explorer is useless on it. There is a problem with the hard drive that makes it impossible to update windows. I never got a new hard drive because it’s a pain re-installing everything.

I emailed my psychiatrist and told her I wasn’t going to the hospital because there was zero data supporting that it would be helpful or useful for me. All it would do is babysit me and I don’t need to be babysat. The last time I was in the hospital, my psych thought it would be “helpful” for the team to know that my father was sick and that I was his “caretaker”. I went in there because I couldn’t handle being transgender, or being in chronic pain all the time. I went there for my needs not my father’s. I was pissed that she brought it up. And it’s not like they were doing psychotherapy with me, though I am sure they were billing my insurance company for it. It’s just stupid. I rather go to the city hospital and stay there for a few days. It will be worse as I won’t have any electronics to play with, including the use of my cell phone.

There are a lot of things that I need to talk to my therapist about and I hope that we don’t talk fifty minutes of my father’s ailments. I don’t mind talking to my psych about my father because we just briefly talk about him and then we talk about my symptoms and how I am doing with it. We don’t spend the whole time talking about my father’s problem. My therapist is the crazy one. We always talk about the same things with my father. It’s never different because his ailment doesn’t change. He is a sick man and will probably die within a year if he continues to deteriorate. I have come to terms with that. My therapist just doesn’t see it and wants to talk about it like it’s so very important, thus avoiding my other side, the depression and subsequent suicidality.

I feel like taking a handful of Neurontin tonight. I just want oblivion. Maybe I will take a high enough dose and see what happens. My luck, nothing will happen.