Category: chronic physical pain

A Hopeless Friday

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

A Hopeless Friday

I woke up late this morning and was hung over. The Benadryl always makes me hung over. I needed coffee badly so I had just enough time to get dressed and catch the bus to the Square. I had to go to the bank anyways to deposit a check so it worked out. I wanted a burrito again, so I went to Chipotle and had one. It was really messy, more messy than last night’s. They didn’t wrap it right so it basically fell apart. I had maybe ¾ of it and then I couldn’t finish it. I was full. After I ate, I went to the bank and then Starbucks to write a little bit. I made the perfect soy latte. It was really yummy.

About 45 minutes into being there, my ankle started hurting really bad. I had to wait fifteen minutes or so for the next bus so I continued to write as best I could but I was distracted. I guess all the walking and standing I did yesterday is catching up with me today. It immediately soured my mood and I felt hopeless, like the wind had been taken out of my sails. I hate being in chronic pain all the time.

I came home and my room was stuffy so I put the AC on, even though it’s barely above 70 degrees today. I really want to take my pain meds and nap, which I might do. I just feel so damn sad. My eyes are puffy from all the crying I have been doing the past few days. And I have dark circles under my eyes so it looks like I have been beaten up. They also are wicked dry but I am too damn lazy to put in the eye drops to make them feel better. I hate using eye drops.

I might write a little later to get my book going again. I really would love to write at least 850 words about the past struggles with my mental illness. In the book, I have been talking about the “pink rectangular pill”. I am no longer taking that because it became useless, which is why I am on trilafon. My psychiatrist finally called in the right order so I can freely take 2 a day without having to ration my pills, least for the next 30 days or so. I am happy because it gives me peace of mind and the trilafon really works for me. I haven’t been as psychotic lately and my paranoia has been way down. I see my psych next week. I was thinking about calling her today but I won’t. I might shoot her an email, just giving her an update on things.

I tried to nap but never slept. My mother called and I got angry. Dinner was ready. I really wanted to make just a bologna sandwich, which I might have later tonight. I ate what she made, which was chicken stir fry. It was okay. I took some pain meds because my ankle is really screaming at me now. I was being patient in thinking the pain would just go away if I didn’t think about it. Apparently, it doesn’t work that way.

I am having musical hallucinations again. Songs are playing in my head over and over. It’s funny because when they start, my voices are quiet and when the voices are running, I don’t have these type of hallucinations. Right now my song of choice is Peter Pan. It just runs non-stop in my head.

In other news, college football starts tomorrow. I cannot wait to don on my OSU hat. Which reminds me, I MUST get a Huskers shirt. I wish my Nebraska connections were still in Nebraska but they are now in Texas. Those are the two teams I support during the season. Last year when I ordered my OSU hat, it took several weeks for it to come. They had to get the hat at another bookstore. I have a small hat size so it’s hard to fill. This year the team is all new because most of the players are now in the NFL. They are all on different teams and none on my Pats. I am hoping for a trade or something in the future. These guys are really good players. I really don’t know how I became a Buckeye fan but I am one.

Settling down for sleep…what a joke

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

Settling down for sleep…what a joke

For the past two hours, I have been trying to sleep. I couldn’t because musical hallucinations have been keeping me up. I was hearing the song “Peter Pan” by Kelsea Ballerini and it was just on repeat. So I bought the song so I could listen to it, hoping it would knock out the noise in my head. Then David Nail’s songs came through so I put his music on. Finally, I was tired enough to lie down. Yea Right.

Soon as I lied down, about not even 10 minutes later my foot exploded in pain. I just took my pain meds not even an hour ago so I couldn’t take anymore except for the strong pain pills. So I took one, even though I almost choked on it because it is a very small pill, potent, but small. I always have trouble swallowing it because it is small. I know I am in pain because I stood too long and walked a lot today.

Now I got to wait for the pain pill to work in about a half hour or so. The musical hallucinations are back but I don’t want to listen to anymore music. I will just let the music in my head play out. I am tempted to call my psychiatrist and ask her what to do but I am so tired, I might fall asleep on her. I might take another trilafon. I only took 4 mg today because I was out and about. I forgot to take it before leaving the house today.

God my foot hurts so damn bad. I hate when it is like this because there is nothing I can really do except wait for my meds to work. It has been fine up until now. I haven’t been in that much pain for most of the week. But then, I really didn’t stand or walk too much. I knew there was a chance of me hurting big time tonight. I figured it would be a test run for when I go to the Museum of Fine Arts. I really want to go now that I have my membership card. Frida Kahlo will be on exhibit soon and I can’t wait. I like her art. It can be a bit grotesque but she does have an interesting history.

I am glad I didn’t get a coffee when I was still in Harvard. I think I would still be awake rather than groggy. I just want to fucking sleep, dammit. I am glad I have nothing to do tomorrow, except for going to the bank to deposit a check. I might do it on my phone so I don’t have to leave the house. We’ll see how I feel tomorrow. I’ve only been out of the house two days this week. If I go to the bank, maybe I will have Chipotle again. The burrito I had was really good, even if it was messy. It will be my reward for going out.

Knockout

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

Knockout

I went to Harvard Square today with the hopes of meeting my Twitter buddy. I did a lot of walking for an hour but it was worth it. I must have spent at least a half hour walking around the bookstore, just looking at books. I came across one called “Knockout: Mental in Massachusetts”. Its author is B.C. Scott and it is just as anonymous as the author wanted it. It was a fantastic little book, just under 120 pages. It was written in the style that my second book is, roughly 850 words or so per chapter. It was a quick read and I loved it. The person has an eating disorder, bipolar I, BPD, and PTSD. Her life was interesting as she was untreated for her manic episodes for most of her life. She was rarely down and when she was down, thoughts of suicide went through her mind. She thought of it and if she attempted, she doesn’t say. I know a lot of Bipolar I’s that think of killing themselves but never attempt. I hope she is one of those.

I didn’t get to meet my Twitter buddy because he had to see a patient at the hour he was free. He felt bad but I understand. I am literally two stops away from him so I am sure I will see him in the future. Plus, I love the bookstore that is a little ways from his office. That is where I found Knockout in the psychology section. It wasn’t supposed to be there but I guess fate had it there for me. I wasn’t going to buy it at first. There was no price tag on it or even a UPC code as it was made “on demand by Paige”. It’s their version of Amazon on demand books, self publishing. It cost $20 so I know I am going to sell my second book for $25 as it will be close to 200 pages. I love how the author writes about writing in her book and where she goes to do her writing. She doesn’t sound that much different than me, except she has the support of her family with her illness behind her, mostly her parents. That is something that I will never have, but I have learned to live without.

On the way home, it started to rain. I was going to stop in Starbucks for a coffee and something to eat but my leg started hurting and there was a long line. I couldn’t bear it so I left. I wait for the bus in my Square but it never came and I was really hungry. I just had a bagel at like 10 and then a pumpkin scone at Starbucks while I was waiting for time to go by to go to Harvard. I hardly ate anything and my stomach was getting angry with me. I really wanted steak tips but the line at the restaurant I went to was again long because it was dinner hour. So I went to Chipotle for a steak burrito. It was very good, even though I got sour cream and guacamole on my face while eating it. My sister sent me pics of quiche so when I went home (an hour later because the bus was late), I had some of that.

I emailed my psychiatrist early this morning because I didn’t have my trilafon. I now know it isn’t her fault so I told her stupid Epic was the reason and could she please call it in. I provided the pharmacy’s number and within an hour, my script was ready. I picked it up on the way home. My allergies were bad so I also got some Benadryl. It’s make me drowsy as I type this because it’s the gel cap kind. I only took 25 mg because I knew it would make me sleepy. The other Benadryl that I have is expired so I am not sure it has been doing anything. It has helped me sleep but nothing for my allergies.

I had therapy this morning. We talked a lot about the concerned asshole. She is the one that gave me the idea of writing the letter to this jerk off. She doesn’t want me to give up my blog either. I was talking to another blog reader who went through the same experience I went through. She doesn’t want me to give up my blog because of this asshole. I am sure the jerk is probably saying “better to be angry at me than be dead”. FUCCK YOU I say. You only prolonged my death. There will be other episodes, except you aren’t going to know about them. It just won’t be this weekend, you fucker.

I bought a new album today to help my mood. It’s called “Fighter” by David Nail and this guy is unreal. I love his songs and one of them is a Lady Antebellum song on their 747 album, I think. He sings it so good. I love Lady A and I wish they would stop giving away their songs to other artists. It wracks my brain because I am singing the song with Lady A but it’s not Lady A so it’s driving me nuts!! Like Martina McBride has their song “It Ain’t Pretty”. Every time I hear it, I am wondering when Hilary Scott is going to come in (Lady A’s singer). I still can’t decide who sings it better. I love Martina McBride but her vocals just sounds strange after you hear Hilary Scott’s voice.

I want to thank my readers for being there (except the one that called the cops, you can go to hell). Your support makes this blog worthwhile and doesn’t feel like I am wasting my time with it.

writing just because

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

Writing just because

Because of the hurtfulness of the blog reader that sent cops to my house this morning, I never got a chance to talk about how my day went after the cops left.

I was nervous because I was going to be talking with my therapist and I had sent her one of the blogs that I privatized and wasn’t sure if she had a chance to read it before it went private. It was my declaration of what would happen should I die, an explanation if you will, that I wrote after I found a quote in the Idiot by Dostoevsky. I thought it was a rather nice essay and my therapist did read it as well as enjoyed it. She understood it. I had finished it sometime during the morning hours as I was up. I might change it to a password protected blog so that others might read it too. It isn’t dangerous, I don’t think. But my level of dangerous writing is obviously different than someone else’s.

For most of my session we talked about a lot of things. She really loved my sauce and squirreled it away from her family so they couldn’t have it. I laughed at that. I also called her a jerk several times for not leaving me and she laughed. I asked her why she laughed and she said it was because I didn’t say it with menace. I didn’t. I don’t think there is a menace bone in my body. The only person I am a danger to is myself and now this blog reader who thinks they have to save me.

I was talking with a Twitter therapist friend of mine who I gave one of the blogs I wrote last night. I asked him if he called the fuzz on me and he said that he didn’t and he would have talked to me about it should he felt my life was in IMMENINT danger. I stress that word because even though I wrote about taking my life in a few days (I can’t now because my family is watching me like a hawk), there was not a pressing need for that moment in time to call the fucking cops. Had I said that right this second I am going to take my life and there is nothing you can do, that would have been a different can of worms. You are an idiot blog reader who doesn’t understand how suicidality works. You may have bought me some time to think more about my plan, so I thank you for that. But that is all you did. And my therapist knows this. I make plans all the time. I usually have a high percentage rate of changing my mind and living, sad as that maybe. My therapist gives me the hope.

As I was talking with my therapist today, I was waiting on Walgreens to send me notification that my psychiatrist had called in my prescription. It’s still not in the pharmacy. I called three today and got no where. So she said she would call again. Anyways, notifications came through to my phone while we were talking. Since I posted an Instagram photo of my sauce with pasta, there is an Italian North End restaurant that has been tweeting me the last few days. They tweeted me again today asking if I tried out their restaurant. I haven’t replied because I was so upset about the cops showing up on my door. I still haven’t quite put out that fire. My mother found out about it and we had a “talk” today about it. I had to walk away, like I usually do. Maybe I can get a free meal out of the deal. I have no idea where they are located. I haven’t been to the North End of Boston since I was a youngster and things have changed considerably with the Big Dig. I am not sure I can find my way around. Anyway, my therapist is going head over heels over this. She thinks it is awesome that this restaurant has contacted me with my cooking skills. I am being humble as I don’t think my cooking skills are anything great. I just cooked some beef, threw it in with some crushed tomatoes and called it a meal.

My therapist thinks that my voices are not controlled well enough and are what is causing my suicidality to go 10 fold. Well, I don’t necessarily have the meds to control it fully so I am rationing my meds until I do. My psych is trying to get my meds to me but there must be a glitch somewhere with the new stupid system. I am going to have to call her tomorrow to find out what the hell is going on.

I have been crying and sneezing the last few hours because of everything that happened today. I have a headache and I am really tired. Luckily, my therapist has an opening tomorrow morning so I will talk to her. I sent her the short blog that I wrote about whether or not I should continue blogging. I am going to miss it if I do decide to stop.