Category: CRPS

Friday Mayhem

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

Friday mayhem

I went to sleep early but that didn’t help keep me asleep all night. I woke up several times. Then my med alarm went off. I took my meds. Then slept on and off the next couple of hours. I needed to shave and shower. I wanted to be up around 11 so I could possibly have breakfast. It was pouring outside and my mother had all the windows and doors closed so it was a sauna in the house. I went downstairs with a change of clothes which was dumb as it was way too hot to change. I was sweating after my shower, even after drying off. I grabbed my clothes and cooled off in my room. Then went downstairs to eat something. I decided to have cereal. I put too much and it was making me feel sick. I went back to my room.

I wanted to leave around 1430 but I couldn’t wait that long. I left at 1330. I checked on my niece to see if she ate. She did. I then packed by bag with just what I needed and then left. Rain had stopped. I was waiting at the bus stop when my cousin came. He drove me to Starbucks. I was grateful. I don’t think I could stand another 10 minutes waiting for the bus as the bench was wet. My ankle was already starting to act up. I got my espresso and was just in a pissy mood. I thought about getting something to eat but I really wasn’t hungry. I was still full from the cereal.

Around 1500, I left for the train. Someone had fricken urinated in the elevator. I reported it after my stomach wasn’t going to empty. The smell was awful, especially in the heat. It was cool on the train. The sun had come out but I didn’t bring my sunglasses. Oh well. I was early for my appt. I watched the Brazil/Belgium game. Belgium looked like it was going to win. They called me in the last two minutes of the game so I don’t know for certain. I had a new fellow who was a complete moron. I told him I wanted to increase my pain med dosage because the flares were awful. He said we can’t just do that. Instead they are going to increase my breakthrough meds. They didn’t give me 60 count, just 45 but the dumbass didn’t change the order so the pharmacy wouldn’t fill it for 45, just 30. I was so fucking heated. Again I wasn’t fucking heard. Now I got to call Monday and the order changed. The fellow also pushed PT, like it was a cure or something. I told him to write the order and I will go but if I am in pain, I won’t go. He didn’t know how to order it because he was knew to the system. He came back with the scripts and the PT order. I left but I couldn’t make an appt as there was no one there to do it. The office staff had left for the day. They will call me on Monday. Not if I call first.

It was hell trying to get home. There was some kind of problem at Harvard. I waited for three trains because they were full. I knew I wouldn’t be able to stand the whole way. Every stop we had to wait 5-10 minutes. A lady left and I took her seat. Then a guy with a shirt too small and his belly sticking out kept kicking my bad foot. He was doing all kind of weird moves while looking on his phone. No idea if he was playing a game or what. I had to tuck my foot in so he wouldn’t kick it, which caused my calf to cramp. Asshole. He got off before my stop. I missed the bus so had to wait another 20 minutes or so. I had decided to order Mexican food. I was so done with today. It took me almost and hour and a half to get home. Ridiculous. Then my meds were too soon to fill. And the other one was fucked up so they couldn’t fill it anyways. UGH!!! Just made my fucking day.

I wrote to my psychiatrist about the idiot clinic. I don’t care anymore. I know she can’t do anything but at least she knows what is going on. I am tempted to cancel my appt with her in a couple of weeks. I really don’t feel like seeing her. If she responds to the email I sent her, I will see her. If she doesn’t respond, I won’t be seeing her. That will be the deciding factor.

Belated Fourth of July

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

Belated Fourth of July

To all my American readers, hope you had a good Fourth. I had a pretty good day. I am now paying for it. I spent two hours in my friend’s pool. It was awesome. My friend’s husband I talked for most of the time in the pool and then afterwards. It was nice. I had to have my friend help me out of my wet clothes. It was difficult to get out of them. I was kind of embarrassed but she didn’t seem to mind helping me. She understands what it is like to need someone else’s help. We hung out and watched videos of many things. Then it was time to head home. My other friend said I should stay over next time and I said I would never be able to leave. My friend said YUP enthusiastically. It was funny.

I came home and cringed when I saw my bedroom door open. It was hotter than hell in my room. I turned the AC on right away. I am still waiting for it to cool off. It is 76 degrees, which is better than 84. I’ll probably turn in soon. I am really tired. I forgot how tiring it is to be in a pool. My legs felt like jelly. And my feet were cramping. I had trouble with the ladder. I was so scared I was going to fall. The ladder felt sturdy but because my proprioception is off, I couldn’t trust my feet. I was okay getting in the pool. Getting out was harder. I couldn’t turn around when I reached the top step. I was paralyzed with fear. My friend helped me out and I made it down okay.

We took pictures of the kids and my older friend. It was so good seeing them. I got to take home some chocolate cake, which was out of this world. It was probably the best chocolate cake I’ve ever had. Hope my mother doesn’t eat it.

I took a cab home because there were no buses as it was on a Sunday schedule. Thankfully, the driver knew how to get to my street and didn’t take every street in town. Sometimes they do that and it annoys me because the fare goes up. I gave the guy a good tip.

My foot started acting up after I changed into dry clothes. I had to put my AFO back on as the sandals were bothering my foot. It is still screaming and when I went to the bathroom a little while ago, it felt like I broke it going back up the stairs. Fricken CRPS pains are so fricken weird. My whole top part of my foot is bothering me, which is why I am still up. I didn’t think I would be writing a blog by my laptop was giving me dirty looks so I figured I would write. Sometimes writing helps to calm me down enough to sleep. I took my night meds later because I was out.

I woke up around 9 am after not getting to sleep around 2. My ankle was still hurting after I used the bathroom. I had just taken my pain meds so didn’t want to take the breakthrough meds. Around 1030, I went back to sleep. My niece was still sleeping so I figure I would nap, too.

I woke up again around 1400. My mother wasn’t home yet. I went downstairs to use the bathroom and it was like a sauna in the house. I called my niece and she didn’t pick up. I went downstairs to the first floor to see what she was doing. She was still sleeping. Her mother told me she went to bed late so I know how that is. Plus even with AC, the heat makes you tired. My ankle was hurting by the time I climbed the two flights back to my room. I thought about doing by home PT exercises but didn’t want to risk pain. And cue my damn ankle joint to start throbbing. FUCK.

I was just thinking that maybe I don’t have to end it, that maybe I can put it off the table for now and just go on. Then this kind of pain happens (almost every time) and I just say fuck it and back on the table it goes. I was going to email my psych about this but I don’t know what the fuck to say. My pain just jumped to a 12 in a matter of minutes. Different part of my ankle that is throbbing so bad. I have had enough. Had enough of the back and forth. Had enough of pain and sadness and misery. What the fuck am I doing anyway??

PT, power outage, and other stuff

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

I finally was able to sleep around 0430. My med alarm went off around 9. I wanted to throw my phone. I shut the thing off and was drifting off back to sleep. I caught myself and then took my meds. I went downstairs to use the bathroom. I washed my face and for some reason, forgot to brush my teeth. I will have to do so tonight, if my foot pain lets up.

I made breakfast, fried egg and toast. My mother was in the kitchen before pain made her leave. I finished my breakfast in silence and then went back up to my room, only to realize, I didn’t make coffee. I went back downstairs and made it for me and my mother. My mother said I didn’t make it good. It is shit coffee anyways. I don’t care. I made my coffee a little too sweet with the creamer that has sugar in it. I am going to have to buy the Natural Bliss one again. I’ll probably get it on Friday when I am out again.

I was getting itchy just waiting around. My friends on Twitter hadn’t responded to the blog I wrote at the midnight hour. I think they did while I was on my way to PT. I left an hour early because I couldn’t stand being in my room anymore. It was so fricken hot. I brought my Kindle to read while I waited. My PT took me early and did her thing. She was happy that I was doing my exercises. Ya, cause they didn’t involve my ankle at all!! Just upper body and my hips. She did myofascial release again and this time it bothered my thigh. It was in the last minute of it so I let her finish. Don’t know if that was wise or not but I figure why not.

I found an easier way to get back to the station. The end of the building that the PT office is leads to the street that has a bus stop about a block away. I walked it and a bus came pretty quickly. I just got to the station and was able to transfer to the bus home! Score! I checked my message as there were a few. The suicidologist that I have been followed had given me a website to look at the next time I feel like talking to someone that isn’t going to be judgmental or call the cops on me because I have suicidal feelings. It is a chronic suicide group. I told her I would check it out. I did when I got home, once my power got back on. It was out for about a half hour. I was sweating when I came home and had no fan or AC to cool off. It was stuffy in my room. I was holding out for it to come back soon and when it did, I cooled off just enough to go downstairs to have something to eat in case the power went back out again.

I have brought my portable charger on my bed in case I need to charge my phone. Getting back in bed wasn’t good. The pressure I was putting on the mattress to climb in caused a flare. I can’t take any meds. I had already taken a breakthrough med about 2-3 hours ago. I did take some ibuprofen as my back is hurting. Between my foot and ankle hurting, I want to take some Ativan and call it a fucking night. Guess I won’t be hearing the Sox play tonight. They did good last night. The pitcher, Rick Porcello, hit his first double, bringing in three runs. It was awesome. Usually a pitcher strikes out or maybe gets a hit or a sac fly. He came through and helped himself to a lead. The Nats slowly worked their way up but Betts hit a homerun and we kept the lead, thank god. It might have gone to extras otherwise.

Pain has once again brought out the suicidal me. I had sent my blog that I wrote in the midnight hours to my psych but when I emailed her asking her if she read it, she said she didn’t get it. Guess that is why I got no response. I sent it to her again. Hope she gets it this time. I am kind of scared because if she freaks out, what am I going to do? I don’t want to go back to the hospital and I won’t because it is a waste of fucking time. I will page her every hour if it comes to that. Fuck the hospital. I can’t believe just getting on my bed cause my ankle to go completely berserk. That with my foot pain, I am in a “wonderful” mood.

On the way home, I played the lottery because the pot is $270 million. My gut has been telling me to play since it was $210 and today it got really strong. I played my father’s and godfather’s birthdays. I will be happy with a free ticket. I was surprised the cost of the ticket went up. Crooks. It is now $2 when it used to be $1. I don’t know when it happened as I don’t play often, only when the pot is big. Hope I win. I will then move to Canada to avoid another US civil war.

When they say you aren’t alone but you really are…

by Midnight Demon, posted in Bipolar Disorder, Chronic pain, chronic physical pain, CRPS, depression, mental disorders, mental illness, mood disorders, physical pain, psychosis, suicidality, suicide, suicide attempt survivor

Past few months I’ve planned my ending. Now the time has come and it all comes down to me as to whether I go through with it. Sure, I unexpectedly got my pain meds that I waited 9 months for. But I am still in pain. Meds aren’t touching flares or making them bearable.

My lower body hurts. Legs feel like cement some days and because my legs are usually bent on the bed, they don’t want to stretch when I stand. And it hurts so much trying to walk just to go downstairs to use the bathroom. Sometimes walking helps but I got to walk hunched over because being fully erect is too much pain. It just isn’t comfortable.

Foot is going berserk. So fucking tired of being on pain. Half my foot from third toe down my ankle joint outward is being ripped apart or cut open. It wants to be separated. I hate this feeling and nothing helps me. I am so fucking annoyed!! Flares have a mind of their own. This one started with my pinkie and got worse from there. Midnight has struck. I want to fucking sleep. Chloral hydrate?

I feel like I should email my dark thoughts to my psychiatrist to let her know what is going on. I don’t know if she will respond, if she will tell me to go to the hospital (not an option and I will fight it), or she will want to see me ASAP. My therapist is on vacation. He doesn’t have a clue.

See, here is the thing. I’ve been chronically suicidal for years. I spent the last few months of 1994 in the hospital. I had one attempt in the beginning of November and I didn’t get out until mid January. Basically, I had to cover up my feelings to get out. I was close to being committed to a state hospital at the age of 19. I didn’t care because my depression made me feel so worthless that nothing was going to keep me here. But eventually by stuffing the darkness, I was let out to go to college. I earned my degree, found a stable job that I didn’t go to school for. And then tried to back to earn my bachelor’s degree only to suffer a psychotic episode that I never recovered from until months later on the right meds.

All that time, my suicidality fluctuated. I had a serious depressive episode in 2005. Things sort of got better in 2006. Two years later was the psychotic episode and I had to quit college. 4 years later I had a condition known as complex regional pain syndrome and that threw me on the disability table. Now I feel my life is over and I have a plan on ending it soon. I planned it back in March. I really was going to end it June 30th. But things happen and I push it back. Then pushed it back again. Now I am on the cusp and I don’t know what to do.

People always say you aren’t alone, but the truth is, when you are an attempt survivor, you are. You know what to say to get in and out of hospitals and what to say to avoid them. But the thoughts remain. They still circle your brain. And when you are in severe pain, you want to end it now. But patience is needed. I can’t end it on my bed for a family member to find me. I have a location in mind. I am scared of myself and omg what if I do die. If I succeed. Failure has happened and prevented me from attempting again. Now I am wanting to try again. I have no idea if I will succeed.

No one wants to hear me out. Soon as I say I want to end my life, people panic. They get angry. They tell you stuff that makes you feel guilty. And then you think why bother. Just go on suffering for THEM. So they don’t feel the pain you go through every single day. I’ve been doing this for years. My previous therapist prevented so many dates that could have been attempts. Sometimes I was hospitalized. Sometimes I just had more contact with her and or my psychiatrist.

I wish I could say I gave a fuck. But I am tired of hurting so damn much in the midnight hours of hell. When the midnight demons come out in me. I am a dark person. I pretend to be happy, to get along with everyone. That is what is expected of me. It hurts me to see others hurt. I’ve always been an emotionally sensitive person.

I have no idea if what the hell I am writing makes sense. I had to get the thoughts out of my head. It is going to be a flip of the coin the day of my doom. Imagine that. A coin having the power to live or die. I am pathetic.