Midnight demons are at it again, though it isn’t necessarily midnight right now. I just feel so low all I want to do is hide from the world. I still feel sick so I have tripled my vitamin D. I just can’t help but feel like it’s my antibiotic protection at this point because I know if I go to the docs they are just going to say viral infection and can’t help me anyways. I still feel out of breath at times but that can be contributed to my weight. I can come up with any excuse.
I had a rough night sleeping. Kept on having weird dreams and such. I hate feeling so crappy. I really want to take a nap but I know that will mess up my sleep cycle more. I’m trying to make this at least a page while listening to Mary Chapin but I don’t think I can pull it out.
Ankle is hurting. I really need to clean my room but I don’t want to. I just get so overwhelmed.
After tomorrow the writing project will decrease. I am kind of happy about it. It just will be writing as usual. I still will be blogging but seeing as I have the writing challenge it will be more. I have been writing two blogs, one the challenge the other a more personal one about my struggles.
Category: Chronic pain
Ramblings 20
I am tired. So very tired and don’t know why. I didn’t sleep last night. I didn’t go to bed till six in the morning because my brain just would not shut off.
I kept on thinking about my TG issues. I finally came out to my group to call me Mike. I also changed my name on Facebook to call me Mike. So far everyone has been so supportive I am almost tempted to try my real family and see if I still get the support but I am very afraid to. I am so afraid of rejection that I know it will send me to a tailspin suicidal crisis. I don’t think anyone understands the pain that I am feeling. Maybe that is what is making me exhausted. I could take my meds now and fall asleep. Another day will rise and maybe this would all be a dream.
I am cold. I still have this bloody cold and cough for the past week. I hate being sick.
I also been thinking about what I wrote last night about Shneidman. Maybe he wouldn’t be rolling over in his grave because there would be less man hours going over hundreds of notes. The hard part of this study is that all of them have to be inputted by hand into computer. Now that is a lot of man hours!! But if it helps the greater good so be it.
I was talking with a fellow blogger who was suicidal and he/she wanted help yet when they got it, rejected it, saying that I didn’t know what I was talking about. I got really mad. Telling me I don’t know what depression is like is telling me I don’t know how to breathe. This dude has some serious issues. SO I walked away. Obviously he didn’t want to be helped and so be it if he wanted to kill himself there was no way I could stop him. I was trying to be there for him and he was rejecting my help so fuck him. Let him stay in his own miserable world, thinking he is the ONLY person that feels pain. I never seen such a case of stupidity but then again I am new to this blogging thing. I can’t help everyone I guess.
a four letter word
Been having on and off bouts of depression and self worthlessness today. I don’t know why I feel like crap. I realized it’s been a week since I have taken my day time med. I have been suffering from a cold all week and am just starting to feel better except for this cough that won’t go away despite me taking loads of vitamin D. I am convinced that increased vit D will tail off a viral infection such as a cold. When I get better I will go back to taking it every day.
My therapist and pdoc are on vacation at the same time. It’s been a rough week you could say. I keep thinking about why am i alive. According to what I read, I should be dead 10 years ago yet I have not made a single attempt on my life in that span of time, well with the minor exception of a month ago when I was in severe physical pain. I don’t feel like I should live. I just want to scream and I don’t know why I am so frustrated. But I am. I want to be dead and yet these people who don’t even know me want me to live, for me to talk of my struggles like it was some kind of game. I feel exploited and some of that is my fault for having this blog and trying to reach other people who feel the same way. I just feel so burdened with this. I don’t feel like I belong anywhere but in the misfit group.
Tonight my writing partner sent me a link on her study that she is working on. She is almost done with it, just a few more pages to go for analysis and she is done. The work is interesting and the fact that a computer can distinguish between non suicidal and suicidal individuals is impressive. Shneidman would be proud, though given his proclivity to new age technology, he might be daunted. He spent his life going over suicide notes and now a computer can tell him what he always wanted to know. I find this depressing. I wonder if the computer could tell me if I am suicidal.
There has been a lot of studies of analyzing handwriting to find out if someone is suicidal. The key in my mind is a four letter word, only. That word to me is whether the person is truly suicidal or not. As in, it is my only option. I wonder if I were to talk to Dr. Shneidman today what he would say. But I have missed my chance. I am a low life that is trying for affiliation and failing at it.
Feeling low and insecure, really am feeling like I could slash my wrist. I hate being stuck in this body. Trigger tonight was people calling me by my birth name. I couldn’t stand it. I want to cut so bad. I hate myself. I want to stab myself over and over to get the badness out of me. I hate feeling like this, like a damn freak.
Shneidman’s work has been replaced by computers. He must be rolling over in his grave the poor man. And I feel disconnected, like I’m somebody but I am not. I hate feeling like a loser. I hate it when Bozo is on vacation. I never needed her more and I can’t even put into words what I am feeling. I’m just imagining myself wit stab wounds in the kitchen because I’m so pissed at myself. There was an article from 1978, 34 yrs ago about suicide attempts and FTM. 34 years and nothing since then. Maybe I am past my prime. I know my fucking period is what is throwing me off balance as much as I have been trying to ignore it for the past week but I just can’t anymore because I am bleeding a little heavier every day. I know that if I see someone I will most likely have to do the female exam and that will just torture my soul. I just took two vicoden because my foot is in danger of being hacked into. Funny how the narcotics can help with the physical pain but not the psychological. I hate my life. I hate living this way.
pain relief and suicide
just got into it with my sister about me being on vicodin. she thinks that I should try another medication that isn’t addicting and that I won’t be addicted to. I have been so dizzy with this cold so I couldnt talk for a bit. I have dependence or some form of it but I can go a day or two with out meds because the pain is not bad. sometimes it CLAMMORS on me afterwards but I think since I have been taking Nyquil around the clock I don’t need the vicoden as much. but still I had a big fight with the pharmacy and I still didn’t get my “extra” like I wanted all because the doc wrote the damn thing wrong so I might run out of my meds AGAIN next month. That really sucks when you run out of meds. I am hoping the temp change doesn’t fuck me up. I got to fix my window as it is letting a nice draft in my room. Damn thing won’t close unless I lock the window.
I am so sick of being called an addict when I am not!! I know I am not because all my meds would run out and I would be HIGH which I am not. I’m not looking for a good time when I want pain relief. I am not saying I want them just to feel good. I want them to stop my pain because if I don’t have my pain relief then I will kill myself and I am sure my family doesn’t want to visit a grave stone!!
My sisters know I have been suicidal at times. I just think that they think I have never attempted. I have NEVER told a soul except treatment workers. I think most of that is because I am embarrassed I failed and didn’t want to admit it to myself. And how do you bring it up? Not like you can sit down to dinner and say yea by the way, I overdosed on my meds last night and that was why I went to the hospital. Would not go over well. I just don’t have that kind of supportive family. They rather just throw it under the table than talk about it. Best is to forget it and move on. If I could do that, I wouldn’t need therapy anymore. all my problems would be forgotten…
Being ashamed about failing a suicide attempt is worse than anything you can imagine. it really hurts to still be alive after you were so sure it would work. Then to have to deal with life afterwards make you wish you were dead 10 times greater.
midnightdemons7 
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