Category: bipolar

Don’t call me daughter 2

by Midnight Demon, posted in bipolar, blogging, psychache, suicidality, suicide, suicide attempt, transgender

Don’t call me daughter 2

I had a conversation with one of my Twitter buddies about being TG. He got me thinking that I still have not made any steps forward in this endeavor since I tried to come out to family last year. My sister read my book, so I know she now knows that I am transgender. Now comes the hard part, do I tell my mother? I have been wanting to for some time now but can’t bring up the nerve to go through with it. I know she will say that I will “always be her daughter” and that is going to be hurtful to me. I don’t want to be called “daughter”. In the song by Pearl Jam, “Daughter”, one line goes like this: “don’t call me daughter, not meant to be, the picture left will remind me”. I remember during an intense painful time in my life, these words spoke volumes to me like they do today. Granted it was a different meaning, meaning I didn’t deserve to be called “daughter” because I was such a despicable person.

After my conversation with my Twitter buddy, I got depressed, which lead me listening to Pearl Jam. I still hate myself so very much. I want to get rid of the things on my chest so badly. I bet I would lose 30 lbs instantly, LOL. Damn suckers are so damn heavy anyways. But I don’t know who to talk to about getting them cut off. My psychiatrist is still out of the office and she isn’t answering my emails. I am getting frustrated with her. I would call her but her pager has been signed out to another clinician, one that doesn’t know me. And I don’t talk to my therapist until Tuesday to discuss these things. Maybe I should call the LGBTQ clinic on Monday and see if I get anywhere. I think I want to try taking testosterone and see if that helps me. I just don’t know if my insurance will cover it.

I am not scared to try anymore. I think that if I do move forward with this, the lingering depression that I feel will lift and maybe I won’t be so suicidal anymore. But I can’t move forward with this. I know my mother is not going to accept me. She could barely accept that I like women, how is she going to accept that I am the wrong gender. And what if she gets so pissed off, she kicks me out of the house? What then? I doubt it as she needs me financially but there are things better than money. And I am not quite sure if her possible rejection will send me to another suicidal crisis. If my own mother can’t accept me, what reason, really, do I have to live for?

I have struggled for years with my suicidality and only in the last five years or so have I realized that the majority of why I was suicidal is not only because I don’t like myself, but because I can’t stand being in the wrong body. It became evident when I made the connection between my menstrual cycle and being purely suicidal. Then I would bleed, and a switch went off and I felt I was just dreaming of being suicidal but I wasn’t because my therapist and friends were on me, seriously worried about me. I can’t say that my mother knows me. She may say she does, but she doesn’t have the first inkling about me. If she did, she would know how torturous it is being in the wrong body. But I know she doesn’t think like that. No one does. It was all for me to figure out one day. I have had twelve different therapists from all different disciplines. IF they figure out the reason for my suicidality, they sure as hell didn’t tell me.

I remember being emotional whenever I brought it up in the beginning. I cried in my therapist’s office (back when we were seeing one another) and she held me, telling me I was going to make it through. I had no idea what she was talking about. I just wanted to die. I hate myself so much it hurts. I don’t even know how I can love anyone when I have so much hate towards myself. My therapist now thinks that going forward with TG stuff is the “only” way to ease my suicidal suffering. I think that she is wrong. It might help in the short term, but I don’t think it is going to help in the long term. I have heard stories of TG people go through with their sex reassignment only to kill themselves afterwards. Why? Most likely, because they were not accepted by the people that were supposed to accept them. I still have no idea how I am going to explain this to my “kids”. I have a homophobic nephew, two caring nieces, and a little pre-teen niece that has her own mental issues. Maybe I will come out to my older niece first and then see how it goes. If I lose their love, it will be the death of me. I know I cannot handle their rejection of me. It will hurt more than my mother’s rejection because we raised my nieces to be accepting of people. I don’t know what happened with my nephew. I blame his teacher for telling him that gays aren’t born gay. They choose to be it. In his mind, only girls choose to be gay. Boys don’t choose because they are always straight. Least that is what I think he thinks. It has been a while since he explained it to me. But he is ignorant and still doesn’t know the world so I don’t blame him. But if I lose his love, it will kill me. He has been the main reason I am still alive. I couldn’t bear to die knowing that he needed me, especially when I was going through a hard time his first year of life. I would say goodbye to him, not knowing if I would see him again. My suicidality twenty years ago was horrific. I was in and out of mental hospitals for six months, until I took an almost fatal overdose that landed me inpatient for two and a half months. That would be unheard of today. No one stays that long in the hospital anymore, though there are exceptions.

I just don’t want to be anymore. I really just rather die than to deal with all this bullshit of becoming a man. It’s not like my bones are going to change. My pelvis will always be revealed as a woman. And that is what kills me every time I think about it. Got to thank a “Bones” episode for that. I know I will kill myself one day. I just hope it is sooner rather than later.

CAMS preview

by Midnight Demon, posted in bipolar, blogging, depression, mental disorders, mental illness, mood disorders, psychology, psychosis, suicidality, suicide, suicide attempt, suicide attempt survivor

Jobes

For those wondering, here is what a future blog post of CAMS is about. I will be writing more about this and the SSF in greater detail.

Birthday in Review

by Midnight Demon, posted in bipolar, blogging, cauda equina syndrome, suicide, suicide attempt

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Birthday in review

This time last year, I was thinking of taking my life. I was sure I was going end things. My book was done and I didn’t care if it got published or not. But I had commitments to keep. I had to keep my relationship with my writing partner. I had to keep going for my therapist’s sake. And by the time this day came, I really didn’t want to take my life. I wanted to see my book published. I wanted to see if I could lose weight (I would gain and lose for most of the year).

The relationship I have with my therapist is unconventional. Today, I finally saw her after months of not seeing her. She dressed my 3 ft bear with a birthday hat and a card. The card was a goofy one, as show in this post. But the words that she wrote really touched me. She called me exceptional, something I have never heard before. Unlike my father who said that I smelled. I didn’t shower today and don’t plan on it. I did way too much today and my ankle is thanking me kindly. And I still have my party to attend.

My therapist is someone who is very extraordinary. She goes beyond the limits of any therapist I have ever had before. I have had 12 before her so I know. She has always been there for me, at my worst times and is usually available for the extra session or two when I really need it or when I don’t want it. Though she is terrified of losing me when I bring up the “S” word, we work through her issues as well as mine. I finally had the idea of using a code word to tell her when she has become tense. There is a baseball on her desk that she keeps there. She knows I am a baseball freak so the word baseball would not in itself clue her in that I noticed a change in her demeanor. So I came up with “baseball on your desk” as the code word. In that process, my hope is that she gets ‘grounded’ and figures out that I can tell she is tense so I can be more comfortable being open to my dark feelings. It’s a process. I don’t know if it is going to work, but we’ll see.

This year has been tough. Not every month was a good month. I got hospitalized again this year because I was close to ending my life, again. I don’t think I will ever be free of wanting to end my life, and I know that one day I will succeed. But right now, it’s not on my mind. I just am letting the day be and hope to god that I don’t crap my pants today because of this damn cough I got. I am not living, I just am being a part of this thing called life, which I hate. I still don’t want to “be” anymore. But like I said before, I have commitments to people that I take seriously. I have responsibilities to my family, whether it is helping to pay for bills or watching my niece when my sister needs me to (and I am able to). I have “grown up” the past year, though it wasn’t an easy thing to do. I am learning to live on a fixed income, which isn’t easy.

I became more active on Twitter and met people close and afar. I have been involved in chat groups, something that I have missed since the early days of the internet. I follow my childhood idol, Wil Wheaton and his wife, Anne. I have learned just how geeky Wil is and how much his wife adores animals. Just recently, she rescued a pup called Lucy. She is only 10 weeks old and was malnourished. Anne found a good home for her and the pup is doing quite well. It brightens my day when I see a PUPDATE text on my phone (I have mobile notifications for both Wil and Anne as well as a few other members of the STTNG cast). Twitter has brought me to socialize on social media in ways I never thought possible and to expand my network, making new friends every day. Most of my Twitter buddies are therapists as I try to spread information about lived experience and my thoughts about suicide prevention. But I also have buddies that I follow for baseball and my beloved Buckeyes and Huskers. I follow them to keep abreast of new information. I don’t read newspapers so Facebook and Twitter are my news info. I just recently made 300 followers. I hope this time next year I have 400.

What also has been a life saver for me is my writing on this blog. I do it whenever I feel like it or when I have to express my feelings in a safe way. I doubt I would still be here without the blogger world support. A few months ago, I asked if I should keep the blog or shut it down after my hospitalization because I was getting negative feedback. The response was an overwhelming yes. I guess it is true that a few bad apples can spoil a good thing. I have tried to avoid these apples but they creep up every now and then. One blogger comment basically was begging me to kill myself. I have noticed that when my blogs are at the worst, is the only time s/he “likes” my posts.

I can write more, but I have a party to attend…my own! So if you are reading this and are struggling, hold on, there is hope!

oh what a day

by Midnight Demon, posted in bipolar, blogging, cauda equina syndrome, depression

Oh what a day

My PCP was 25 minutes late. That started my day just perfectly. When he came in, the appointment commenced just as I predicted. He poked and prodded my ankle and toes. Told me I needed to lose weight. Said that my back was muscular in nature and then handed my prescription for my pain meds for the month. He also tested my urine as I told him it smelled really bad. I don’t know why. I hope I don’t have a UTI.

Next appointment, I was a half hour early but I had forms to fill out so that is what I did. Fill out the same forms that I filled out at the other PT place. Wish they would get their shit together. Appointment lasted just about ½ hour. There was some confusion on what treatment to pursue. She said she would try the ultrasound but I still need to do the strengthening exercises, but we’ll start slow. I told her which ones made me hurt more and she seems like she is willing to work with me. Better than the other idiot. I then go for aqua therapy when the “dry” therapy is over in four weeks. We should know by then what is helpful and what is not. I am feeling hopeless about the whole thing. But at least it gets me out of the house a couple of hours. She doesn’t know if she will be the one leading the aqua therapy or if it will be someone else. After the appointment, I got really frustrated because she did nothing but evaluate me. I have to wait until next week to actually do something. My back was not happy with the evaluation. Anytime I had to move, I hurt. I just feel like giving up. I don’t know what the point of all this is. My ankle is not going to get better. But I will go through all the rig a ma role to see if it does decrease my pain some.

It’s going to be nasty out tomorrow. But I am driving the 30 miles to see my therapist. I just hope the car has gas or I won’t be going anywhere. And that will really suck.

My mood has been up and down all day. I was really hungry when I came home from my appointments and found I couldn’t cook anything because my mother was baking. I nearly had a fit. I hadn’t eaten anything all day because I woke up late. Well, really, I woke up very early (3 am) and then went back to sleep around 5ish. I just couldn’t sleep. So around 0430, I took some Ativan and hoped that I wouldn’t sleep through my alarm. I woke up about a half hour before it went off. I had to take a shower and get ready. I didn’t want to get out of bed because the pain was bad and I was groggy from the short nap. I knew that what was going to happen. I hope it doesn’t happen tonight. I need to be out of the house around 9ish so I can be at my sister’s work by 10. All of this is dependent that my pain isn’t through the roof and the roads aren’t icy like they say they are going to be. I am not driving 30 miles in slush!

I feel awful. I am tired and my stomach keeps giving me mixed messages about whether or not it is going to hurl, all because my throat is dry. I haven’t had anything to drink except for my latte and some water at the doc’s office. I didn’t drink anything with my supper because I just didn’t feel like making something or getting a bottle of water. I think I would feel sicker if I drank something. The cough is giving me dry heaves, which is why I don’t want to drink anything. I know that a little stuff will come up and I don’t want that. Fucking cough is so damn stupid. I didn’t cough once while I was at the docs then when coming home, I couldn’t stop coughing. So annoying!!