Category: Chronic pain

too dangerous

by Midnight Demon, posted in Bipolar Disorder, Chronic pain, depression, psychosis

I have been battling the voices and the delusions all day. It’s like a pounding headache that won’t quit despite taking medication for it. I don’t know what to do anymore. I feel so alone in my struggle. I know my family won’t understand. And most of the psych professionals don’t really know how to deal with psychosis. I am so depressed about it. I felt like emailing my psychiatrist telling her I would go to the ER but what for? What can they do that I haven’t done already. I have taken trilafon and Ativan to try and sleep today. It helped somewhat but I had weird dreams. I feel transparent, like people can see right through me, almost like I am a ghost. It is a weird feeling.

I have been trying to read to let my mind wander a bit, but it has been difficult. I rather sleep. I have been taking my meds earlier than I usually take them. I don’t know if it is doing me any good. My sleep has been the same and then I have to wake up in the wee hours to pee. I sometimes stay up for a bit until I can go back to sleep. I then sleep for a few hours before I have to pee again and then I am usually up for the day. Today I am just too tired to fight. So I am resting.

I was doing good pain wise for the last few days. Until this morning. My foot decided it was going to ache more than I can handle right now. So I took a pain pill, which only added to my drowsiness. I don’t understand why my pain has been less since I have been a little bit more active lately. Frankly, I don’t care because I know there will be a day I don’t do anything and my foot will flare up. So if it wants to lay low while I do stuff, that is fine with me. Monday I have to request my pain medication. I think I will go and pick it up rather than have it mailed to me. Last time it was cutting close to my refill date.

You would think that because I have been in less pain, I would be doing well mentally. But I so believe that that Goa’uld are going to be invading us. It is only a matter of time before ISIS gets a stronghold and really become a threat. I don’t know how much of my imagination is real or not but I believe this whole heartedly. ISIS is being controlled by aliens that want to conquer the human race. I don’t even know what “ISIS” stands for. Nor do I care. It’s too bad that the Goa’uld are registered with the Stargate franchise. Otherwise, I could have written a story about this. But I don’t want to get in trouble. It’s bad enough I am being watched 24/7. I know there are bugs in my room trying to get information from me. I play music most of the time to distract the bugs. I play it somewhat loud. My mother is deaf so I don’t have to worry about disturbing her. They want to record the conversations I have with the voices. So I have been silent and it is killing me. I like talking with the voices. But it’s too dangerous.

I was listening with headphones to music from the laptop. It is Bluetooth so I don’t have to stay in one place. It was nice until the music started planting thoughts in my head. The lyrics, even though I was hearing them correctly, somehow had a hidden message that I had to decipher. Every song was like this. I had to stop listening through the headphones. I was getting convinced the headphones were tapped.

Sunday is my father’s birthday party. I have to find out if it is still on because of the wake information. I read the goodbye notes my cousins left for her boyfriend. I started bawling. He was 23. Died way too young. My cousin was in love with him since she was 17. That is a long time to love someone. I still don’t know how old my cousin is. She is younger than I am and I know she is in her twenties. I think she just passed her 21st birthday not that long ago so I am guessing she is around his age. It just is so sad.

Three feet from the bureau

by Midnight Demon, posted in Chronic pain, chronic physical pain, depression, suicide attempt

Three feet from the bureau

In October of 2012, I was caught in another flare up. It was night time, well past business hours of doctors and therapists. Normally I am good at reaching out. I text my therapist. I write in my journal or blog to get through the episode. But this night was different. I snapped. I couldn’t bear any weight on my foot that night and it really made me feel like I couldn’t go on. I was so tired of feeling like an invalid. I wanted to die in an awful way. Problem was that I couldn’t get to my bureau three feet away to get the meds I needed to do me in. Any time I tried to move, I was in agony with horrible foot pain. I could barely move my foot out of the covers of my bed let alone stand long enough to shuffle to the bureau. I cried as there was nothing I could do but take what I had at my bedside. It wasn’t much but it was enough to make me unconscious and away to dreamland I went.

When I awoke the next morning, I was in a dreadful mood. I wondered if I had really done what I thought I did. I checked my pill box and it was empty. I checked the contents of my pain meds and it was close to empty. I couldn’t believe what I had done. But I survived it and am living to tell about it. How I woke up I don’t know. I felt ashamed of myself, not in surviving but of making an attempt and not seeking help. I had promised my doctors that if I felt like I did that night, I would call them. But no phone calls were made. I had a confidential suicide hotline to call but I didn’t. I had made suicide prevention part of my treatment plan but yet the crisis response plan went out the window that night. I didn’t implement any of it. I just took pill after pill until I passed out.

This scared me. I was no longer in pain yet who is to say that if this happened again I wouldn’t try to end my life again? Dealing with chronic pain is a beast. And so many times it doesn’t get a flag for suicide risk assessment. My better judgment wasn’t in gear that night. I not only wanted to end the pain, I wanted to end everything. I spend the next few days in a haze, and not from medication. I was scared to let my practitioners know what I had done. I finally broke down and told my therapist. It was very difficult admitting my attempt. I then told my psychiatrist and she shocked me by saying that if I wasn’t in pain, I wouldn’t have done what I did. And it’s true. Chronic pain changes you, not only physically but mentally as well. It took me a while to write about what I had done on my blog. After all three feet was the only thing stopping me from ending my life or attempting to. I’m still fearful about making another attempt while in the throws of another flare up. I keep a small portion of my meds by my bedside so they are not lethal. I was lucky I didn’t need medical intervention the next day. I still am not quite sure how many pills I took that night. And that also scares me because who is to say that the next time I won’t count them out.

Chronic pain is not something to underestimate. Hundreds try to end their life year after year because of physical pain. Most people see their doctors before an attempt is made. The question remains whether an assessment is made for either depression or suicidal thinking. My primary tries to assess my mental health but mostly just asks when my next appointment with my psychiatrist will be. It might be followed up by will I call him if I feel like taking an overdose of my pain medication. Yet he knows he is not the first person I will call. In my order of people to call: my psychiatrist, therapist, primary, then ER if I can’t get a hold of one of them.

That night, I didn’t call anyone. All of my safety plans went out of the window. All because I was overwhelmed by excruciating physical pain. I think if I could go back in time, I would have taken the time to breathe. And think more of self-preservation rather than self-destruction. I am more aware now of what to do but it’s not that easy when you are in the heat of the moment. A month ago I was again in excruciating pain for three days yet suicide was the furthest thing from my mind. I knew what to do to cope with the physical pain. And luckily that didn’t involve a bottle of pills. I felt the attack come on so treated my pain much earlier than I did in October. This helped to keep the suicide demons at bay. I texted my therapist, I emailed my primary that I was in excruciating pain. I also got in touch with my psychiatrist who help me to see there was a tomorrow. Doing these things didn’t make my physical pain hurt less but made my psychological pain bearable. It helped me to cope through this rough patch.

Being mindful about pain is how I get through bad flare ups. I have no control over these pain attacks. But I do have control over what I do with it. I learned my lesson from that October night.

Another Pain Day

by Midnight Demon, posted in cauda equina syndrome, Chronic pain, chronic physical pain, depression, mood disorders

Another Pain Day

I have been up since 6 this morning. I tried to go back to sleep but I failed miserably. Ankle has decided to be a bitch today. I realized that since I have been in the house for most of the week, I can’t do hills. I went to pick up my niece from her after school program and I was so out of breath from walking up the little hill to my street. I used to do that with no problems. Now it is a problem and I don’t like it. Granted being in pain didn’t help matters. I then went up the two flights of stairs and I didn’t have a problem breathing. HUH?? Why is it I get winded on hills but not the stairs?? Strange.

I didn’t go out today, other than to pick up my niece. I wanted to go to the store and get some cream but I was in too much pain and I didn’t want to waste spoons. I took a shower before picking up my niece and that was pushing it. But I had to change because it has been a few days since I last took one.

Despite the temperature cooling off outside, it is hot in my room. So I have the AC on to cool off. The heat is not helping my ankle. I just can’t stand it being more than 70 degrees in my room. It just feels stuffy. I am trying to stay awake while writing this but it’s difficult as I am so tired. I am in so much pain though I doubt I will sleep. It has been an 8 out of 10 all day today. I don’t see the new foot doc until Halloween. I am trying to schedule an appt with my pdoc the same day but she is being elusive with her emails. I give her a time frame I can see her and she doesn’t respond. She did call in a refill for me seeing as I will run out by the time I do see her again.

I waited all day for a stupid secretary to call me back and she never did. I will have to call on Monday now. Just drives me crazy when people say they are going to call and they don’t.

God, I wish I did something to have this pain that I am in but I didn’t do anything. I might have done a few more stair climbs than usual because I have had the hungry horrors today but that has been it. I really can’t stand this anymore. It’s driving me crazy. But watch, my ankle is going to “miraculously” be okay the day I see the doc. I am sure that day is going to be a low pain day. OI. And there is a hurricane in the mix this weekend so maybe that is why my pain is off the charts. I don’t know anymore. I have decided that I am just going to do what I do and the hell with the consequences because my ankle is going to do what it is going to do no matter what. I don’t have control over the pain levels any more. Gone by the way side is taking one pain pill a day. Now it’s 4-6 pills a day. And sometimes, that isn’t enough. There is no getting ahead of the pain because the pain occurs so out of the blue like it is hard to gauge when you are going to have a flare up. Surprisingly, I am not suicidal throughout these pain episodes. I think if I were, I would have to be hospitalized. But then, I wonder which side of the fence I would be hospitalized, medical or psych? If I am suicidal because of pain and if you take the pain away, then I am no longer suicidal. It’s a tough call. I think there have been times I have wanted to page my psychiatrist because I don’t know what to do anymore and I am staring at a bottle of pills. Then there will be other times where I just wish I was dead. There is no medium. There is no one I can commiserate with. No one understands. You tell them you have an injured ankle and they immediately ask “how did you do that”? I have no answer because there was nothing I did that caused this. Least not that I know of. And that is the frustrating part. Maybe I just have CRPS and that is the price I have to pay because I have “evil” thoughts. I don’t know.

The other day I read that some where in Michigan, a body was found at a shopping center. It reminded me of a twisted short story I read by Lawrence Block years ago. There were these two brothers that would vacation together. It seemed normal. They both planned to go to a different state and do some vacationing. Except toward the end of the trip, they would kidnap a lady at a shopping center and do their business with her then kill her and leave her in the woods or some remote place. Creepy story because it had a realness to it. That is what I love about Lawrence Block’s books. He just recently had one of his books turned into a movie. I haven’t seen it yet because, again, it is a twisted story. There are these two guys that love to mutilate women’s breasts before killing them. But they kidnap the women for ransom first. I have read the book at least three times. It is a good book, but I don’t know that I can see what I have read.

Ankle Chronicles 7

by Midnight Demon, posted in cauda equina syndrome, Chronic pain, chronic physical pain, depression, mood disorders, suicide

area of pain

Ankle Chronicles 7

I saw my psychiatrist today. I told her that the pain that I have been feeling is causing the suicidal thoughts to come back, though in passing, nothing concrete. She wants me to call her if they stick around. I told her I would.

This pain has been going on since Labor Day. No matter what I do, or don’t do, I am in pain. Going up and down stairs is the worst. I finally had enough. I called uncle. So I will be seeing an ankle fellow in a couple of weeks because the head honcho doesn’t have any openings until December. This will be doctor number 14 that I will see for the same problem. Luckily, all my records are in the same system so I don’t have to carry around different records with me from different places. I might have to collect records from the podiatrist I saw, but we’ll see on that. I just know that I am in pain, nearly 24/7. And it is draining me. The past week I have been so miserable I don’t want to go out. And if I do go out, I want to go back home and soon. I need to keep my foot elevated to make it happy. But even that isn’t making it happy anymore. I just don’t know what to do except to keep on taking pain medication. And even that is losing its effectiveness.

I am seriously losing my mind over this pain in my ankle. It’s right below the bone on the outside. I forget the name of the bone and I am too lazy to google it. My PCP says it is a tendon. I know it’s a tendon. I have been dealing with this pain for a LONG time now. I know it’s the peroneous tendon and possibly, muscles, too. I don’t care what the names are. I just want the pain to stop. And I don’t want an injection of cortisone because I believe that it damages tendons more than it helps them shrink. I will NOT have another nerve block in that ankle because when it wore off, I was in agony for three whole days. I won’t go through that again.

I told my psychiatrist I was seeing a fellow rather than the chief and also a smartass remark. She came back with a “calm down”. How can I calm down when the very act of walking is being taken away from me?? Really?? I can’t go anywhere unless I walk. Down the stairs, up the stairs, go to the store, the bathroom, kitchen, etc. Each of these activities causes me huge amounts of pain, the stairs being the worst pain. I have to make conscious effort to hold my foot upright while going down the stairs and the same effort going back up. It’s DRAINING!!!! I have no more mental spoons or physical spoons to do anything else, like brush my teeth or shower. I got a haircut today and needed to shower but couldn’t so I just washed my hair. That hurt more than the shower would have. I don’t think my psychiatrist knows where I am coming from. Maybe she is tired of hearing me complain about my pain. It has been going on for three years now. I bet that is it. People are just so damn tired of me complaining about my ankle.

And I have a reunion to go to on Sunday. HOLY FUCK, I AM FUCKED. I will most likely be standing most of the time. SHIT! I didn’t think about this until now. I will have to wear my dreaded brace. It won’t help 100% but it will help some. I will be sore as hell after and possibly the rest of the week. Good thing I have nothing planned. I really want to see my old coworkers. They are the best bunch of people to know. I will carry with me my little book so that I can get their addresses to send them Christmas cards.

I am suicidal because mentally I just can’t deal with the pain anymore. It has gone on too long. I really need to go to Walgreens and pick up my prescriptions. Otherwise, I am going to go another night of no pain meds. I just wish I had the fucking energy to get them. I would have someone else go, but you need an ID to get the meds. Just great. I have to go. I guess I will stop complaining about my ankle for another day.