A Harrowing Day

A Harrowing Day

Since early this morning, before I actually woke up, my phone was going off with text messages. Apparently, the bus that I take was having problems. It was late, real late. So instead of waiting till my appointed time that I was going to take the bus, I decided to catch an earlier one. Soon as I hit the square, there was traffic galore. No wonder the bus was late. I thought the problems cleared up by the time I finished with my appointment but it didn’t. It was ten minutes late and there was an elderly gentlemen with severe arthritis that couldn’t get off the bus at his stop without assistance. I have seen this gentleman before and it’s painful to hear him groan at every move. I feel for him as I know what that is like. This caused the bus to be further delayed while other passengers were helping the man off the bus. I don’t understand why he travels alone. He should have someone with him.

My appointment went well. I met with my psychiatrist and couldn’t help but cry a little. At one point, I thought I was surely going to breakdown but I didn’t. We were talking about how depressed I am about the TG stuff and how my writing is affected by the depression. I also told her my taste buds are off. She sympathized with me because I can’t drink my coffee without it tasting like crap. Everything tastes off. Even the Doritos I had with my lunch didn’t taste right, and they were the spicy kind. I am very depressed and get annoyed quickly.

I finally got in contact with the buyer of my Otterbox. She still has not received it so I told her it is at a post office in her area. I gave her the tracking number so she can track it. I should have used UPS or something and will next time. The Post office is just not reliable.

I woke up in pain again this morning. I thought I would have to walk with a cane today, the pain is that bad. I took a pain pill when I came home because while going to CVS, I misjudged a step and my foot came down hard on the street. That hurt! I still need to pick up my niece but not for another hour and a half from now. I hope the pain settles down some. It is the same type of pain that I have been having the last three days. My psychiatrist asked me about my physical pain and I told her it has been fine so far, not causing me psychological trouble like it usually does. But I fear that if this continues, it might cause me problems. I forgot to tell her I made an appointment with the physiatrist. I’ll be seeing her next week so I will tell her then. She said she wishes she had a magic wand to help me. I was comforted by that. It just kills me that my heart is being torn in two, one for good, the other for death. I told her that I am trying to stay away from plans and stuff but it’s difficult as I already picked out a date. I still want to try my idea, but I didn’t tell her that. She asked if I would be okay for me to walk out of her office. Took me a couple minutes to respond to that. I felt like telling her my idea, but I held back. I see Bozo next week so we will be talking. She also wants me to keep her in the loop more, not just for my writing. I told her ok. Now I know she is worried about me.

Last night I wrote something that I will be blogging soon. It is about the love/hate relationships of therapy. I would have finished it last night (I hand wrote it) but I got too sleepy. I was exhausted from dealing with my father yesterday. I slept pretty good, until my phone kept beeping. I should have shut the ringer off last night but I don’t think of it. Course, I wasn’t expecting 12 text messages from the T either (public transportation system).

Last night I was telling my therapist that I am going to nix the “Darkness” story. I don’t think I can publish it knowing it is so depressing. It’s one thing to publish it on my blog, but a book? Who would want to read it?? I don’t know what to do. My therapist says to leave it and I told her that I am sending her the link to the blog so she can judge it. And she has to judge it as unbiasly as possible. I can never get her to be critical of my work. Course, anyone that reads this book/blog never judges me critically. Maybe it’s me that is judging. I don’t know, it’s just frustrating that I am horrified by my own writing!

My Saving Grace

Figured I would start writing and see where it leads me. My mood is still awful, though not really suicidally awful. It has tampered down from the other night. I am in pain tonight, which is clouding my judgment on things. I want to attempt but I am afraid that I will bail. I see my psychiatrist in two days, well, one day now that it is almost Thursday. My therapist is full so I won’t be talking to her, unless she has a cancelation. I don’t know why I am having these thoughts and they always seem to happen at this hour. It is so peculiar. During the day, I have fleeting thoughts of self-destruction but at night, the feelings intensify. I know I am tired and most likely vulnerable, but I also want to sleep and cannot.

I just finished a chapter in the “Idiot” and am so confused. I know someone is going to die soon. I just don’t know who it is going to be. I also know that the main character Myshkin is going to have another fit. I just don’t remember when it will be.

I am listening to Taylor Swift. I find that listening to her when I am in this kind of mood temporarily lifts my spirits. Her music is my saving grace. I started off the playlist with “Love Story”, which is my #1 favorite song of hers. I don’t know why her music lifts me up. Most of her song are definitely upbeat, especially her latest album, 1989. But I love her as a person. I can’t love her more than that because, well, it would be weird with the age difference and all. I am more than a decade older than her. And she is straight, so it wouldn’t work even if it could.

I know since she has left country and went pop, there seems to be less woman on country radio. There is a huge populace of male artists/groups. Where are the women of country?? Sara Evans, Jo Dee Messina, Mary Chapin Carpenter (long gone I know), even Carrie Underwood. For every male song out there, there seems to be less female songs. It’s just sad that the men have overtaken the radio waves.

I still have been thinking about sending my sister a message about the TG stuff. I just need to get out of this funk of depression. Otherwise, I might try to take my life before anyone knows what for. I just really am vulnerable right now. The slightest thing that goes wrong, I fear I might do what I have been thinking about. I don’t need to be in the hospital. It would be pointless and besides, I would get discharged without any treatment. The most they would do is drug me up and then send me home. That is not what I need. I tried to extend my stay the last time I was in, and it was not a good experience. I really don’t want to repeat it. It has been almost a year since I have been in the hospital. And besides, with me having to pick up my niece the next week and half, I really can’t be in the hospital. I hate being in the hospital because it always messes up my med schedule. You have to take them when THEY say you do, not when I want to take them. So it I take my meds at 2100, I can’t take them at that time. It has to be before that time. Or if I want to take them at 1900, I can’t take them until 2000. It just sucks. And the amount of pills they give you is way more than what I take I home. For example, they break up my BP meds so I am taking four pills instead of one. It drives me nuts!! I am at the med counter for at least twenty minutes because I am throwing back like 20 pills when I take half that at home. That is one of the reasons I don’t want to go back to the hospital.

I read an interesting blog today. It was a letter to a “friend” and it was signed “nervous wreck”. Here is the blog: https://talkingthisandthat.wordpress.com/2015/06/02/a-letter-of-regret-from-your-anxious-and-depressed-friend/ . it is an interesting letter and I like it a lot. It is kind of like the spoons blog but this is for mentally disabled people.

I am sort of glad I have an appointment with a NP next week. I think I have a lump under my armpit. I don’t know what that means. But I know it can’t be good. I probably won’t do anything about it if it is a lump. Free cancer, I will take it if it gets me to the grave faster.

Another day dealing with depression

I started editing my new book today. It is based on this blog post https://midnightdemon.com/2014/02/01/darkness-always-wins-updated-version/ . I got to the 4th page and had to edit a page out of it. I hated to do that but it was just so triggering that I thought it should be left out. It’s one thing to go on and on about being depressed, quite another to talk about cutting. It lead to the Segway of Mr. Hyde, which I guess I will keep. I had to stop there because it was depressing me and I was thinking, who the hell is going to read this shit!??

Had therapy. It didn’t go so well for my therapist’s end. She had an echo so heard herself twice. HAHA. She needs a new phone, whether she likes it or not. I still had no intention of talking to her today. I wasn’t in the mood to talk. She tried to get me to talk, though she did assess that it was my sister’s lack of support that is contributing to my depression. I also said that it’s been a week or more since my last “good” piece of writing. I have to deal with my father tomorrow for his doctor’s appointment and then fill his meds. I also have to go to the pharmacy and pick up one of his meds that I forgot to tell him about. He was out of his house and I didn’t talk to him till around 1600, so the chances of him going were impossible. Tomorrow is going to be a long day for me.

I still am depressed and my taste buds are affected. Nothing tastes the way it should. I had two cups of coffee today that tasted like shit. I barely drank either of them. The second cup, I wasted money on. I should have just ordered a mocha, but I wanted coffee. Tomorrow I will have my mocha, free as I have a reward through my Starbucks card. Buy 12 drinks, get the next one free. I like free. It sucks that I still have this lousy depression kicking around. I emailed my psychiatrist and she wants me to see her on Friday. I really don’t want to, because what is she going to do? It’s not like she has a magic pill for me. Sometimes, I get really frustrated seeing her because there is no easy answer for me. I have treatment resistant depression. I am tempted to go back on Zoloft just to see if it will work again but after a while, it makes me nauseous so defeats the purpose of taking it. Only drug I have not tried is Effexor and that is because of the list of side effects a mile long, one of which is stomach upset. I’m not that desperate to try a drug on my sensitive stomach.

I am very tired of trying drug after drug and having it fail me. Or it works for a little while and then stops working. I would love to try a weight loss drug and see if that helps with my mood and energy levels. It would beat staying in this pit that I am in. But my doc just wants me to lose it the old fashioned way, diet and exercise. That is all well and good, but I can’t diet and I can’t exercise because of my fricken pain, which he knows all too well. I have tried to restrict calories but it’s harder than it sounds. I try to eat three meals a day, sometimes two and I still don’t drop any weight. I don’t gain any either so I am doing something right. But I have gained five pounds over the last three weeks. I think it’s because I have been eating cheeseburgers (homemade) and a few donuts. That was when my taste buds were working good, and I had an appetite. Now I am back to having no appetite and bad taste buds. Even the spaghetti that my mother cooked tonight tasted bland. I know there was garlic and some kind of herb in it but I couldn’t taste it. It just tasted like cardboard.

I have been following Peter Williams on Twitter for the last couple of weeks. He played a system lord in the TV series Stargate. I followed him because he is a good actor. But the thing is, I had no idea people were very fond of the character, the bad guy! It’s not helping my delusions about ISIS and the Goa’ulds taking them over! Granted the character died a painful death on the show. I forget how he died exactly, but he was expecting us humans to save him, a GOD. OOPS, too bad, we don’t have that kind of power! I just saw that fan nuts are making Apophis (name of his character) money in his name! Like “in Apophis we trust”! I am going nuts with the influx of delusional stuff going on in my head right now. Might need to take a trilafon so my head doesn’t explode.

Meh Day

It’s been a meh day. I had wanted to do some stuff today before going out but that never happened. So I decided to stay in. I was so sleepy after my therapy session. I rested a couple of hours. My phone kept going off though so I really couldn’t get into a deep sleep. My cousin called to say my mother had bags but I didn’t answer it. Hell, I wasn’t going to risk a flare up of pain because he refused to go up the stairs. It wouldn’t hurt him. It would hurt me.

I then get two ‘unavailable’ phone calls. The 1st didn’t leave a message. The second call did. It was strange. It said that I was being taken to court, but couldn’t give the reason, and they would sign the documents required. Whole thing was fishy. Normally, collections don’t leave messages like that. Hell, even lawyers don’t leave messages like that! I haven’t received anything in the mail the last few weeks telling me I am being taken to court. Sure I owe money, who doesn’t. But it would be nice to know who is taking me to fucking court! Damn jerks. And besides, there has been no summons in my mailbox telling me I have to be in court. They didn’t identify themselves in the call so I am just going to ignore it.

I have been so sleepy today that I didn’t make coffee. I haven’t done nothing I was going to do today. Though, I still might take a shower tonight. So much for editing my book. I know it will get done. It’s only 42 pages. It’s not overwhelming me, yet. Once it does, I will hire an editor. I was going to hire the same one but she never answered my question about time frames so I don’t think I am going back to her. I became friends with her on FB and all she writes is that she is “busting her butt with all this work”. EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. It’s tiring. Last time I tried working with her, it took 4 months after my last payment to her to work on my book.

I had therapy. I wish it went well, but it didn’t. She kept on going off about my sister interfering with my telling my mother about my TG issues and how I want to be named. I told my therapist, I wasn’t going to pursue the matter. And half way through session, I just wanted to get off the phone with her. I don’t even want to talk to her tomorrow, but it’s too late to cancel. I usually like talking with my therapist but sometimes I get into these moods where I don’t want to talk at all, to anyone. My therapist calls it the “fuck its”. She also wants to know my psychiatrist’s input on what I have been sending her. I really don’t care and its not like she (pdoc) is going to tell me. If she wants to find out, why doesn’t she call her? I don’t understand why I have to be the middle man. I don’t see my pdoc until next week anyways. I could be in a worse mood by then.

I have been following a bipolar Twitter account. It asks questions about how to manage certain symptoms of bipolar and the like. I was reading I think yesterday how one person wrote 50,000 words in one night because s/he was manic. I’m lucky to write a thousand in one of my extreme moods. If I get going, I can easily write at least two thousand, but I have never written more than an hour or two, and certainly, not all night. Some people go by pages. My writing partner does that. I don’t know how many words are in those pages but she gets them done. I have to try and start putting myself on a schedule if I want this book to happen. But it’s so hard to write when you are not in the mood and can’t think of anything to say. My blogs are easier because it’s just a telling of how my day went, my online journal. Sure when I am piped up on something, my writing goes on and on, but for the most part, I try to keep it within three pages. Only my papers on suicide are longer than that.

Sox are winning so far at the bottom of the 7th inning. Last night they lost again. I can’t say that I was disappointed. I expected them to lose. If you expect a loss, you can’t be disappointed, right?