Category: blogging

Another Lazy Monday

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

Another lazy Monday

I woke up at an odd hour and couldn’t go back to sleep. I was up half the night, partly because I was in pain and partly because the nap gave me some energy. I didn’t do anything today except pick up my niece. I watched her for about an hour or so until my other niece came (her older sister) and I went upstairs to my room to sleep some more. I just cannot get out of sleep mode. Granted the heat isn’t helping, but man, all I want to do is sleep.

I didn’t eat too much today. I am still feeling bloated from the meal I had the other night. I finally figured out why. I am constipated. I realized sometime last week that I didn’t put in my senna in my pill box. I have been going but the last few days I have not, hence why I am bloated and my stomach is not feeling well.

My mood is still in the gutter. My therapist wants me to meet with her Thursday but I don’t think it is possible. I would have to see my father early, get home, then pick up my niece. With the way my energy levels have been, I doubt I could do all that. I rather just have one appointment this week anyways. I really don’t seem to get why we need to meet twice a week when it’s not really helping me at the moment. Plus, I am seeing my pdoc Friday so that should count towards something. I also emailed her about the difficulties I have been having. I might email her again with this tiredness that won’t go away. I am so sick of being tired all the time and I am not increasing or taking anything to make me sleepy so I don’t know what the hell is going on.

I haven’t heard from my father’s PCP’s nurse. I am going to call tomorrow and make a stink if they haven’t given him a month’s supply of his medication. We don’t see the doc until next week but he will be out come this Thursday. I hate when doctor’s think they are smart and really, they are stupid.

Because of my sleepiness, I haven’t written anything or edited anything. I haven’t even read my book. I just don’t feel like doing anything. There is no baseball game tonight as they are off. They are back in town, which is good. I hope they can keep their momentum up for winning.

I wish I could write what I was feeling. But I don’t want to be too triggering for people. I still want to end my life, though I think I probably won’t go through with it. I want to try it though, to see if it would work. Thing is, it is the week my therapist is on vacation. She has made it very clear that I should not do anything while she is away. I on the other hand, think it will be perfect timing because she won’t know and she will be away. I don’t know the hold she has over me that prevents me from going through with my ideas on ending my life. I guess there is a level of trust there and I don’t want to break it. Because if I say I am going to be there when she is back, I mean it. I don’t give my word and take it back like some people do. I am so torn though. I really want to end my life and don’t want to see the light of day anymore. The ideas I have about ending my life keep ruminating around my head. I see myself preparing and acting on what I am planning. But will I actually do it when the day comes around? That is the question. I will be very sad if I don’t go through with it. I always get really depressed when I plan a date with death and then don’t go through with it. It just makes me really sad.

Just Another Sunday

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

Today is Father’s Day so to all the fathers reading this blog, Happy Father’s Day to you.

I didn’t celebrate with my father today. I was in too much pain and had an awful night sleeping. I woke up in the early morning and didn’t go back to sleep until around 5ish. I was done for the day and it just started. I haven’t even called my father to wish him a Happy Father’s Day, but oh well. I really don’t care.

My mood has been in the dumps. Being in pain is no fun. I am still full from yesterday’s meal and the little I did eat today, didn’t help my stomach. I feel nauseous at times and feel really bloated. My mood is so sour, like my stomach, that I feel like doing something to harm myself. I just want to sleep and I can’t. I have been having fleeting fantasies of what I would do but I just cannot act on it. I plan on taking my meds early tonight and hopefully go back to sleep, once I get some Ativan on board.

Pain is driving me crazy. Ankle and foot both hurt. I think walking in the sand while we were on the beach last night did something to my ankle, even though I didn’t feel anything unusual. I know that it is just that I have done too much in the last few days that caused a flare up. I feel like I have been popping pain pills all day but I really haven’t. I have just taken two since waking up around 1330. I just feel so tired because my sleep was interrupted.

I missed chat today. I was listening to the ball game and lost track of time. Usually, I am on Twitter while listening, but today I wasn’t. I really haven’t been on the laptop that much today. I just have been lying down, trying to get back to sleep and failing miserably. I still need to get back to my pdoc about how I am doing. She wrote to me yesterday about how much she liked one of my blogs. I still haven’t thanked her for it.

My former therapist that I sent my book to wrote to me a nice letter back. She was honored to get the signed book. She wishes that I wasn’t in so much pain all the time. She read my book and thinks its wonderful. I was extremely hesitant to open the letter. I was going to wait till I saw my therapist on Tuesday but then I realized that was being silly. She looks forward to my next book. I will have to send her out a card telling her it is out, when I do publish it. Now I have more people that want my second book. This is putting more pressure on me because I still am having trouble coming up with new stuff to write. And I still have to edit what I have. I am hoping that by editing it, I can add to it, not only change a word here or there or take one out. Oh the joys of editing!

It’s been a struggle to write something. My blog tends to be easier because I write off the top of my head and don’t stick with a topic or idea. I am usually all over the place but sometimes I stay on with what I am talking about. I am still thinking about writing the idea of the aliens and the militant group but I don’t know if I will get far with it. I don’t have much creativity. It’s slowly got lost over the years. I guess if I wrote bullshit, it would be easier to write, I think. But then I am not being honest and that is not good.

Random 532

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

I just come home from a night out with friends. I turn on the baseball game and they lost the 4-1 lead. Starting pitcher allowed a few hits, balk, and then a homerun. Game is now being lead by KC. I am so fucking pissed. The Sox lost the game 7-4. Assholes.

I had a good time out with my friends. We saw my adopted nephew in a dance recital and then went out to dinner. I overate big time. I don’t think I am going to eat tomorrow. I am just a stuffed pig right now. And my stomach is hurting. I always seem to get a stomach ache after eating a very large meal. It just makes me very uncomfortable. I should know better.

I had emailed my “Love/Hate” blog to my psychiatrist. She really liked it. She said it was the best piece she has ever read about this issue. It made me feel good that she likes my writing. I wonder if my therapist is going to read both blogs I sent her. It’s funny, but I wanted her opinion on the 1st blog that I sent her on Darkness, not the “love/hate” one. Maybe the other one was stupid and that is why she didn’t comment on it. I haven’t received any comments on the “Darkness” blog since putting it out there. But then, I generally don’t get comments on my blogs.

I was reading a blog on my fellow blogger friend. She is having a hypomanic episode right now. She tried getting in touch with me earlier but I was too tired to talk. Between the meal and then the little walk on the beach afterwards, I was pretty exhausted. I was out of the house for a good eight hours, the longest I have been out in a long time. I didn’t enjoy the walking on the sand much but I did love the water. I love being by the water and watching the waves roll in. It kind of sucked because a truck was playing awful music full blast. It was interrupting the tranquility of the moment.

I feel sad now that I am back to being alone in my house. It’s past 0300 and my mother is asleep. I just woke up with a stomach ache and a bad dream. And now my foot is throbbing. Never fails. It won’t be hurting me when I wake up right away but soon as I am, bam! I am hurting. I took some meds so I am not hurting anymore and maybe get back to sleep. The dream was about working in an LGBT office. My boss was asking me why I hadn’t tucked my boobs in. And I pretty much said that I didn’t know how. She then said that we will go shopping so I can find something that works for me. Then I woke up. I never had a dream like that before. I have bought some things that would constrict my chest but they were always so small because I am a very large person. The last time I bought something, it was from China I think and even though it was extra large, It still didn’t fit half way across my body. Some people have suggested I wrap an ace bandage around myself. But how do you do that alone? Besides, as much as I hate my chest, I don’t like constriction. I have enough of that psychologically that I don’t want it physically.

I am feeling very sad and I don’t know why. It’s not the depression that I usually feel. I just feel really sad. It’s Father’s day and I won’t be going out with my family to “celebrate” it with him. I really need to rest my ankle as I have been doing too much the last few days. I guess I feel sad because I have a father rather than a dad. I can’t change that and it makes me sad. My father will never be what I want him to be and that is a loss. I have trouble dealing with it because I once had my father on a pedestal where he could do no wrong. I had believed in him and now I can’t believe a word he says. He is more of liar than anyone I know.

It also makes me sad that my pain interferes with my ability to go to functions and have a “life” with my family. Sure, I could ignore the pain but at what cost? I know this won’t bode well for me and I have a busy week ahead between picking up my niece and then having my appointments. I have an appointment with the NP for my pain management and also for my pap. I am not looking forward to either. I have gained weight so I really don’t want to see a doctor’s office. But I think if I limit my eating the next few days, I might be able to slim down. Having a stomach ache helps. Then I have to deal with a female exam. Everyone that I talk to says that it is important that I have it done. But I am a male. I shouldn’t have it done. I am nervous about it because I haven’t had one in 10 years or so. I am scared that I will leak. I will try and use the bathroom before the appointment but that is no guarantee that I still won’t leak. I once went to the bathroom before taking a shower and after the shower, I still leaked. It was awful because I then had to shower again. But this is home, not when I was out. I will warn her, just in case. I don’t think she knows that about me. I know my PCP knows, but who reads someone’s record these days?

Love/Hate Relationship with Therapy

by Midnight Demon, posted in blogging, depression, mood disorders, suicidality, suicide

Love/Hate Relationship with Therapy

There are times when I like my therapist. When she is supportive and understanding, it’s easy to like her. Sometimes the like turns to love because she means so much to me. It is at these times when I value our relationship the most. My therapist is very dear to me but then, like tonight, she will say something that makes me hate her. Mostly, this is around her not wanting me to kill myself. I feel trapped by this, and so the love I feel turns to hate. It is not a quick thing to happen. I don’t have oscillating feelings toward my therapist. It is only when I am suicidal and she wants me to live that I really hate her.

It wasn’t always this way. I never really knew how she felt about me till we were four years into our relationship. I call it a relationship for lack of a better word. In 2005, I was severely depressed and snapped. I wanted to die very badly and was planning on ending my life sometime that November. It was one of the lowest points in my life. When I finally confided in her what I was planning, which was not easy to do, she got really upset. I couldn’t bare to see her that upset. In fact, no one till that point in my life was ever upset with me for being suicidal. Her fear of losing me made her cry and I just could not tolerate it. I still cannot tolerate it. It messes with my head. Since then, the love/hate began. The love is just the kind that people have with one another. I told her I hated her tonight and she welcomed it. She said that I could hate her till eternity if it meant keeping me alive. But I don’t like hating someone that I really care for. It hurts me. It causes me mental anguish that drives me crazy. I can’t stay hateful for long. I’m not that type of person. And I do love her more than I hate her. She brings me joy and a little bit of hope every time we talk. I need these things or I will attempt to take my life.

I feel trapped by her love. To her, I can do no wrong. I am not a bad person in her eyes. I told her to read a blog that I wrote that I think is triggering to people. She doesn’t know where I came from, that I always think of others before myself. I write horribly dark, depressing things. But this piece of work is really troubling me. It’s extremely profound in darkness and depression. I want her to read it with a professional’s eye. I want her opinion from her psychologist’s mind, not her love for me. Yes, she loves me, too. It makes me uncomfortable at times. But it also makes me kind of feel unsafe. Because if I love her back and she loves me, that just opens a can of worms I don’t want to open. I don’t want to get hurt again by a therapist. I have been hurt ten times by former therapists and she is my last straw. I know that if we break up, it will kill me. After fourteen years together, it will be extremely hard to start over with someone new.

My suicidality has always been a gatekeeper. She feels that I should have more sessions because I am suicidal. More is sometimes not better. But she wants to know what is happening in my life all the time.

My psychiatrist I have known for more than twenty years. I feel closer to her than I do my therapist because of our long standing relationship. I sometimes think of my pdoc as a mother figure in my life. She is proud of me and my accomplishments, even though I never went to med school like we hoped. That is another story for another blog.

My pdoc is the best. She really gets me, sometimes better than my therapist. I don’t know if she loves me. I know she cares deeply about me. We have been through some tough times together. She is my rock. I know I do love her, but in a way a son love their mothers.

My therapist and I love each other as people do. We truly care for one another. I guess the same can be said about my pdoc, thought we have never discussed our feelings for one another. She is strictly professional in this regard, not to say my goofy therapist isn’t. There are boundaries. I respect both of my treaters. I don’t think I have ever hated my pdoc. The only time that I might have was when she sectioned me a few years ago after I sent her a dark email and she couldn’t get in touch with me. I knew it was out of concern for my safety but that doesn’t mean I had to like it.

My therapist has never sectioned me or made me go to the ER. My pdoc doc knows that I will usually take myself to the ER when I am in a dark place. My therapist will just tack on another session. My pdoc would do the same when I am at my worst points. Sometimes, I would see my pdoc weekly rather than biweekly because she was concerned about my safety. Both of these professionals know me pretty well. I have known them a long time and I am grateful they include me in their treatment plan rather than saying this is how it is going to be. That doesn’t work for me and they know it. I have to be in control of my treatment in order for it to work. And if this helps save a life, then so be it.