“No amount of love can cure madness or unblacken one’s dark moods. Love can help, it can make the pain more tolerable, but, always, one is beholden to medication that may or may not always work and may or may not be bearable”
Category: blogging
Really dog tired
Really Dog Tired
I woke up at a decent hour today and I am still feeling like I can sleep for days. I did a few things today that needed to be done and it exhausted me. I have no idea why I am so tired, unless all the sleep deprivation over the last few weeks have finally caught up with me. I went to Walgreens and that really wore me out. My mother asked what I wanted for supper and I said nothing. I just am not hungry. I had a semi big breakfast and I am still full from that. Seems whenever I have potatoes for breakfast, it lasts longer than eating a muffin sandwich alone. Think I will have a peanut butter and muffin sandwich for dinner.
I have been texting my therapist all day. I am very upset that someone opened a checking and savings account in my name. I had to report it to the fraudulent department to close the accounts. Then I had to report it to the credit agencies just in case they open another account in my name. I am very careful about keeping my personal information private so I don’t know what happened. It was a good thing the idiot that did this didn’t know my mother’s maiden name. That saved me because all the other information was correct. Fucking scary.
I will be seeing my therapist this week. I hope so anyways. I am going to reserve a car first thing in the morning for Wednesday. I have found that if you reserve in advance, the chances of having a car are better than reserving say an hour before you want it.
I haven’t had coffee today, though I did plan on making it. I can’t make it now because it’s late in the afternoon. Tomorrow I am going to get another bag of the Brazil Sertaozinho. I love that coffee so much and as long as they have it, I will buy it. My mother thinks I am crazy for buying it, but after a few cups, the bag pays for itself.
I watched the performance of Luke Bryan and Karen Fairchild on the American Music Awards. It was the only thing I wanted to watch. I then deleted the program. It was a good performance and I like the song. I hope they release it on the radio. I took an Eric Church break today and just played Luke Bryan, mostly just his song “Just Over”.
I have to take a shower sometime tonight. I just don’t think I will have the energy to. I will have to force myself to. I hate that because it’s just so draining. Maybe I will feel better if I do take one. I have been feeling like I am catching a cold or something. I hope I am not because it will suck. I took some extra vitamin D last night, just in case I am. Shit I was just thinking, I have to go over my father’s and do his pills a day earlier because Thursday is Thanksgiving. Fuck. That means that I can’t see my therapist. It will have to be next week when I see her. Dammit. I’m going back to bed.
Regarding my Quotes of the Day
Regarding my Quotes of the Day
I have finished with Suicide as Psychache. I can’t seem to find any other useful quotes. I am going to try Definition of Suicide next. Until then, I have quoted Kay Redfield Jamison. She is a wonderful writer.
I honestly didn’t think I would run out of Shneidman stuff. I know more is out there, I just have to find it. But if you like something else, please let me know and I will quote that.
Regarding my suicidal career
I have been feeling like I should write a suicide note. I don’t know why this popped into my head tonight. I have been really struggling with suicide the past few days. I have a suicidogenic mother. She just brings it out in me. Tonight she called me “dear”. Last night she was calling me a lazy ass and tonight I am a dear? I know she was being sarcastic. She didn’t mean it. Neither parent ever means what they say so how am I supposed to believe them?
I sometimes don’t trust what my sister says either. I am not an emotional person. I just feel cut off from my feelings sometimes. Other times I am just so depressed I can’t do anything. I feel suicidal and that is all that I will feel. I don’t feel angry, I feel hurt most of the time.
I have been avoiding Twitter tonight because I am TiVo’g the American Music Awards and I don’t want to hear about it until I watch it. It’s so hard not being on Twitter. I would so love to tweet some more lyrics of Eric Church.
I am struggling with my suicidality. It would be so easy to die right now. And no one would know until the morning. But I don’t know how to kill myself. That is the whole fucking problem. I don’t have a gun or a high place. I don’t even have a beam to hang myself from. And you can’t die by wishing it. I tried that many a times and I am still here. I feel embarrassed that I told my cousins that I was poor. I don’t know why I told them that. It just came up and I blurted it out without thinking. Now they think whatever they think of me. They probably think I am a loser. That is bothering me, too. I feel like such a jerk. I really want to drink my problems away but I know that won’t help. Plus I just took my pain medication so that wouldn’t be a great idea. My therapist would have a cow if I drank and had my pain meds. She nearly had a coronary the last time I drank and took the meds. All it was, was two pain pills and a shot or two of gin. I didn’t even get drunk. I just slept really good. I don’t think I took my night meds. Tonight I took my night meds so no drinking. I hate that I am so strict with myself about alcohol. I don’t know if this is good or bad. I would love some honey whiskey. I have decided that for my birthday I am having 4 shots of whiskey, one for each decade I am alive, that is if I am still around. Tomorrow will mark one month till D-Day. I am so disgusted with myself for living this long. I never wanted to be an adult. I just really hate myself.
My cousin called me tonight. Left me a message saying where am I, how am I doing, the usual bullshit I hear from him when he doesn’t call me every night. He wants me to call him in the morning. HA, I had to laugh. He won’t be up. He is the one that is healthy but has bipolar disorder. He also is the one that calls me when my mother has groceries. I don’t like talking with him because he never understands the depth of my depressions. He doesn’t get suicidal with his depressions. He just barely functions (according to him) but he does the shopping with my mother and my aunt. He takes care of himself pretty good. Better than I do. I barely left the bed today. Only time I left my room today was to make something to eat or to have dinner with my mother. I didn’t even pee that much today because I haven’t been drinking any fluids. I know I am dehydrated because my pee is always orange. I have no thirst. I am past that. Sometimes I will get thirsty but it’s rare. I bought some orangata by San Pellangrino. I like it. Maybe it will help my dehydration. My grocery bill is over $200. I bought a lot of oatmeal and pancake stuff. I like getting the big stuff because I make a lot of oatmeal pancakes. I also like the simply orange juice and juice isn’t cheap anymore. My mother won’t buy it because it’s more than $3. I also bought a 9×13 pan that was on sale. But those pans are hard to find so I hope it doesn’t crack. It’s a pyrex dish with a cover. I bought it to make my brownies for my birthday. I figure I might as well have what I want for my birthday and this year I want a brownie cake with cool whip and cherries on top. All my mother has to do is mix it and put it in the pan. She also needs to buy the cool whip. I don’t know how long it stays so I figure when it gets closer to my day, she can get it. This is if I make it to my birthday.
Love of Cousins
Love of cousins
Yesterday, I went over my cousins that I haven’t seen in a long time. Usually we see each other for special birthdays or some other special occasion. We don’t see each other often enough. One of my cousins gave me a special gift yesterday. I am now the owner of a replica World Series ring of the 2013 Boston Red Sox! I am wearing it as I type this. It is heavy. But I love it just the same. I nearly had a coronary in the car when my cousin gave me the ring. She knows I love the Red Sox very much. I have more Red Sox things than I have any other Boston sports team. I own just one Patriots hat. I lost interest in the Celtics when Larry Bird retired (more than twenty years ago) and I don’t care for hockey. All I know about the Bruins is what I read on Twitter or Facebook. But the Sox to me are special. I have been a fan since I was a little kid and that hasn’t changed. Even when they suck, I still love them. My cousin knows this. I will always treasure this gift. I might not wear it publicly, only because it is huge and heavy, but I will wear it in the house.
I slept late today, a rarity. I woke up around 0530 and miraculously, I was able to get back to sleep around 0600. Yesterday was a difficult for me, mostly last night. I feel like I am a failure in my mother’s eyes because I don’t do much around the house. I would try but I know that it hurts so I don’t. My mother telling my cousin that I was basically a lazy ass did not sit well with me. My cousin wasn’t judging me at all. She knows that I suffer from chronic pain and she knows a little something about it because she has fibro.
Last night I was in bad shape. My mother got me very upset. I think between the sleep deprivation and being up all day, I was more vulnerable to her attacks. Normally she doesn’t get under my skin. I really wanted to die last night. I even thought of going in the hospital just to get away from her. But I feel now that will be giving in to her suspicions that I am not well. And that will infuriate her. She doesn’t get my mental illness at all. She thinks I should just let things roll off my back or not think about things. Even more damaging, she thinks I should “talk” to her. I tried talking to her when I was 10 and suicidal. I got no response. So why should I try talking to her now? She doesn’t understand my pain, my depressions, my insomnia. None of it. Hell, she didn’t even want to read my book that I wrote. I don’t even know if she read the New York Times article I wrote. If that isn’t a shun, I don’t know what is.
I need to go to Walgreens to pick up my prescription today. I really don’t feel like leaving the house. It’s cold, damp, and raw outside. Of course, what do you expect in November? The days of it being warm are over. I am not in pain at the moment. But I am afraid that if I walk to and back might cause my ankle to hate me. I really need to get PJs that I can also wear outside. I have sweat pants but it’s the idea of getting dressed that stresses me out. I hate the indecision of picking something to wear, of which socks to wear. I am glad I only have one good pair of sneakers otherwise I doubt I would never leave the house. I would never decide which pair to choose from. Some days it’s easier to just throw something on and leave the house. But days like today, I am dreading it. I just want to listen to Adele and Eric Church and just stay under the covers.
My menses are slowing down. I am going to ask the pharmacist, if I do go to Walgreens, if I can restart the pack today. Course, that will mean I have four pills that I just am not using. I never should have stopped mid-week but I had no choice. I really didn’t want two weeks of bleeding. Just talking about this makes me feel so low. I feel so degraded. I know no woman looks forward to that time of the month but it’s different when you are transgender. I have put up with so much. I just wish I was dead so I don’t have to deal with this at all anymore. I feel so alone. Other than my blog, there is no one I can really “bitch” to about this. I know that this particular mense breakthrough has caused increased suicidality more so than at any other time. It’s just so difficult. Other than my sisters, I haven’t really told a “real” person about my TG. My therapist and my psychiatrist know but they are not people I see every day. But then, there are no people that I see everyday other than my family. I feel so isolated. I know part of it is my own doing. I don’t reach out to people. I could blame my paranoia, especially now as things have kicked up a notch since the Paris attacks. I just don’t feel safe anymore. And I don’t even think being on a locked ward of a hospital will help.
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