Category: blogging

Super Coffee Buzz

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

Super Coffee Buzz

Woke up early this morning, again, because of pain, again. My right hip doesn’t want to get better. I was doing okay and then woke up Saturday morning with this pain and it hasn’t settled down. I took a couple of pain pills and now it is less as long as I don’t move too much. This so sucks.

So I got up and made breakfast. I made an egg and toast, my usual. Then I wanted coffee so decided to just use two scoops of coffee instead of 2 ½. And the coffee is still strong. I feel like I am high the coffee has me in a buzz that good. I know it will wear off in an hour or two. But man this feeling is incredible. I feel like I can do anything. So I am going to type up the book today. That ought to keep me focused and maybe I can write some more.

Yesterday was not a good day for me at all. I had woken up in pain and things went downhill. I couldn’t sit for more than a few minutes, couldn’t stand longer than a few minutes. It was terrible. All because of pain. So I slept most of the day, or tried to. By the end of the day, the pain had lessened a little bit. I didn’t see my father because I knew going up and down the stairs would not be good. I will see him today as he is staying with my sister until he recovers from surgery. Hopefully, the drain that is in him will come out this week. I just tried to call for an appointment and the lady is running late. I hope that my father can be seen this week. It will be terrible to wait until next week for a post op appointment.

Just texted my therapist to see if she has any openings today. I feel like I need to talk to her. Things have been piling up and I just need to vent. I also need to know if she read my blog that I sent her. I think it will be important for her to read before we talk.

Aside from being up on coffee and low on pain, I am having a good day so far. I think that I can accomplish a few things today, as long as I don’t take a nap. I already have been playing in my games. I had to so that I can finally advance in my missions. I still need to buy horseshoes to complete a mission because the mission is old. But there is nothing I can do about that right now as I don’t have the money to purchase the damn horseshoes. Maybe when I get money for my birthday.

I was telling my mother about a cake that I was planning on making and she deterred me. She said that it takes too many eggs (6) and will need a bigger pan than what is called for. I don’t care. I plan on making it anyways, just to see how it will come out. If it comes out sucky, I will never make it again. I still want to try and make 7 Up biscuits. That requires a little more work even though there are only 4 ingredients. And I hate kneading dough so I am not sure I will make it. I might corral my niece, who likes to bake, to make them for me. I still have to buy the ingredients. I have to do shopping my next paycheck if I want to make these goodies, and pumpkin cupcakes with cream cheese frosting. My sister made pumpkin whoopee pies for Thanksgiving and I didn’t have one because my back was out and I couldn’t stay long for dessert. I know I would have loved it.

Long Day With Little Sleep

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

I wanted to blog yesterday but I was so tired from being up early that it just slipped my mind. I took a nap around 1700 and I was toast after that. Course that meant I woke up around 0430 this morning. I had to be up early anyways because my father had his surgery today. Everything went kind of well, though he still is leaking fluid and the docs don’t know why. They put in a drain to suck out the fluid and are hoping for the best. We’ll find out tomorrow whether he will be able to go home. I am hoping not because I know my father is not going to put up with the drain and it will be a disaster at home. It just isn’t going to happen!

I am so tired that all I want to do is take a shower because I didn’t wear a diaper today. That whole concept escape my mind and I ended up leaking, which left me smelling like an old urine cup. I know I also shit myself a little bit because my ass has been burning since my bowel movement. Got to love CES and damaged nerves. Tomorrow I have to go back to the hospital early so that I can talk with the doctor about keeping my father until the fluid situation is taken cared of. It will mean another long day at the hospital and I am just dreading just thinking about it.

My mother kept my dinner but I am not hungry. My sis bought me a tea and I guess you can say that was my dinner. If I get hungry later I will just make some eggs. I haven’t had anything to eat since around noon time when my father came out of surgery. I am so damn beat I don’t feel like eating anything. I just want to shower and sleep.

One positive thing today was that I wrote a few pages for my next book. I was so happy to be writing again. Tomorrow I will write some more, I hope. Depends on if I have the time and inclination while visiting my father. Sometimes it is not easy to write or read with him because he has to bug you while you are doing it. He is just an ornery bastard. I really can’t stand him.

I seemed to have developed a damn dry cough the last few days. It is annoying as all hell and I know it’s because I haven’t been sleeping good and just am run down. I also have the damn sniffles that won’t go away despite taking an antihistamine and Nyquil. Been three friggen weeks now that I have been like this but all the discharge has been clear so I don’t have an infection. It’s just annoying to deal with.

My sister has got my mother’s finesse for shopping. After the hospital, we went to the grocery store for milk. She bought quie a few extra items. I only bought what I went in there for, my Powerade and some half and half for my coffee. I really wanted to get some other items but I am low on cash because of my damn prescriptions. I still have two to get and can only afford one. I am hoping my cousin sends me my birthday card early so that I don’t run out of one before my next paycheck. Otherwise I will have to borrow money from my sis. I really need to find a part time job. When I visited my old workplace while at the hospital, they were begging me to come back. I really wish I could be back. I miss the place so much as much it annoyed me at times with the idiot phone calls we got. But I like my coworkers some of the time. I just can’t work right now, least not there, because I am still not able to walk long distances without pain. Which reminds me, I forgot to call my physiatrist today. Could have done that will all the waiting I was doing with my father. I am an idiot. Oh well, another call for Monday!

pissed off therapy session

by Midnight Demon, posted in bipolar, blogging, chronic physical pain, depression

Pissed off therapy session

I took a nap before my therapy session which probably wasn’t the brightest idea in the book but oh well. I usually wake up just before session but this time I overslept and woke up to the phone ringing. Rats! I really wasn’t looking forward to talking to her today, especially after what “didn’t” get talk about yesterday.

I told her I didn’t see the point in seeing her and she told me this was a “place to process things”. I laughed. Really? Because that hasn’t happened in ages!! She dropped the issue and I didn’t want to pursue it anymore as I could feel my anger rising. I seriously don’t think she has a fucking clue as to how I am doing anymore. We spent the majority of the conversation talking about how many spoons are going to be spent dealing with my father over the next few days. That is all she seems to want to talk about lately: Spoons. “Spoons” is another word for energy spent on stuff. I got it from a lady with Lupus and you can read the article here. I thought that paper she wrote was typical of all that I go through on a daily basis, from getting dressed, to taking a shower, to making breakfast, etc.

Lately my “spoon” supply has been low and I guess dealing with my therapist just drains it lately. By mid session, I am wanting out of talking with her. I can’t stand 50 minute sessions with her anymore. They are driving me crazy when I don’t feel like talking. And I don’t feel like talking not because there is nothing to talk about, but because I am tired of the way therapy is. I thought that after a while, I would find therapy helpful and insightful. That it would bring meaning to my life but those are just fantasies that never get fulfilled. Granted the last 10 years have been tough with my suicidality and such. But you would think by now she would be used to it and handle it better. She doesn’t and it just makes me shut down. I feel more alone with every passing session because the one person in the world that should know me, doesn’t. I kept thinking about the Mockingbid song my Rob Thomas. The lyrics are stunningly close to how I feel about therapy. The Chorus is right on target:

Everybody else is smiling
Man, their smiles don’t fade
You don’t even wonder why
You just don’t think that way

Maybe you and me got lost somewhere
We can’t move on and we can’t stay here
Maybe we’ve just had enough
Well, maybe we ain’t meant for this love

You and me tried everything
But still that mockingbird won’t sing
Man this life seems hard enough
Well, maybe we ain’t meant for this love

We have tried everything to keep this therapy going. Consults, different therapy avenues, etc. But they never seem to help. I might get a transference session in where I talk about what is wrong with everything but then the next session is like I didn’t speak at all. Things are back to status quo. It really pisses me off. Now I am just hounded by thoughts of whether I should be here or not and I am again alone in dealing with them because my bozo therapist is too anxious to hear what I have to say. She doesn’t listen and she just talks the talk in circles now. I am not asking her to cure me of my thoughts but not having a place for them is really hurting me. But I understand that therapists have their own shit to deal with. But I just once wish that my therapist of 14 years would take a Xanax and let me talk. Otherwise, I think I will just give up therapy once and for all as much as it pains to be even type these words. There is getting nothing out of it if you cannot share your inner most, darkest, thoughts.

I have been down this road with my therapist for some time. It is a well beaten path. I just wish she would restrain herself some and listen more to what I have to say than get all bent out of shape when I mention suicide, or being gone, or leaving therapy. A seasoned therapist should know how to do this by now and I shouldn’t have to write this blog to get the message across, yet again…

somehow, someway

by Midnight Demon, posted in bipolar, blogging, depression, mood disorders

I started writing this blog in the early morning hours but then I fell asleep and deleted what I wrote. Again, I am in pain from my back. I tried massaging the area and that caused me more pain so I know that it is muscular in nature, which is good. I just have to ease these muscles so they don’t tense up on me. I planned on calling my physiatrist to get his input on whether increasing the baclofen will be beneficial or not. Otherwise, I am stuck taking Ativan to calm down the spasms. I cannot be upright, standing, for more than 5 minutes without intense spasms in my back. It’s hard to walk or do anything with this intensity. I have to be better by Friday because I will be carting my father around the hospital for his surgery date. That will be hard to do with a bad back!

I texted my therapist because I was/am having a hard time with all of this. I am not suicidal but staying cooped up is driving me crazy. And I have to go to Walgreens to pick up my BP med. That is one of the last medications I needed refilled. Now I just got to save my money until I run out of the pink pill so I can waste $25 on that. I tried this new prescription service. You pay $14/month and they have your meds on a tier that is HIGHER than what I am currently paying. My pink pill costs $172 for a 30 day supply. There is no way I can afford that with my disability. That is like paying for everything and still have nothing to show for it.

The thing with McAfee has been resolved, thank god. My money was restored to me, in full, today. I am glad I didn’t have to wait 5 business days. I would have been stressed out and worried about fees and such. But I think I am okay right now.

I hope my therapist doesn’t give me a lecture about my back like everybody seems to be doing. They all think I should go to the doctor but the docs aren’t really going to do anything for me because it is all muscle pain. I am not having urinary or bowel problems. I don’t have weakness in my legs. I don’t have new numbness anywhere in the saddle area. I am “good”. I just have to give the muscles some time to heal and I will be fine. Unfortunately, this takes a long time and it is already driving me crazy because I want to go out and write but I can’t walk from here to there without spasms. It’s annoying me! I hate being incapacitated.

My writing friend wrote me an email today with the subject line “Our birthday month”. I could care less. I hate this month with a passion and I really don’t like my birthday. I rather be under a rock than celebrate it. It just depresses me. And what is the point of getting a year older? I never wanted to be older. I wanted to die young and that was thwarted. So now I am a cranky, old bastard. Don’t get me wrong, I still have my chance of killing myself one day, and sadly, that keeps me going. Because if I didn’t have that, I think I would kill myself right now, somehow, someway.