Category: depression

Agony of Despair

by Midnight Demon, posted in blogging, cauda equina syndrome, Chronic pain, CRPS, depression, mood disorders, suicide

Agony of Despair

I had therapy today. I gave her a letter I wrote the other night when I was in a suicidal frame of mind. She said that my treatment is basically in limbo as I am not sure what the recovery is for after my surgery. There may be a way for me to have a telehealth connection but my insurance doesn’t cover it and she has to fight to get it covered. So I maybe without therapy for a few weeks or more depending the outcome of the surgery. She will be able to see me while I am inpatient but I am not anticipating a long hospital stay. Most I will be in for is a week as they like to kick you out soon as you are stitched up. My recovery is going to be at least through the weekend but again, depends on a lot of factors. What I am thinking may not be accurate but I do know I will be there at least through Sunday, if not Monday. I will need home care and/or rehab services as there is no one to care for me at home so my stay may be longer than Monday.

While we were talking she was joking and then I was joking and then she jumped on me to make sure she was saying was understood by me and I just lost it after that. I broke down and I am still reeling from it. Talk about something stupid setting you off. I didn’t allow many tears to fall but I felt like an elephant had jumped on me after the tears stopped. My chest felt so damn heavy. I told her the psychopharm wanted me to think about ECT and she said no one should be bringing up anything to me right now with the surgery that I am facing. She was looking out for my well being and I appreciated that. She is a really good therapist and I am glad to have her in this point in time. I think I will be able to get some work done but it is going to take some time.

Today is the anniversary of when I first attempted suicide. No one knew and I did a bad job of it but I entered the world of self-harm in the process. The goal was to dig into my arm to sever a vein but I never realized how many layers there are to get to that level. The following night was as traumatic as that night and the following day I entered therapy. It took a lot to get me to open up because my father had instilled in me the “what goes on in the house, stays in the house.” I was too suicidal in the week after the attempt. I just started cutting and it was how I expressed my emotions as I didn’t have words for them. I still don’t. That is what went on today. I felt a jumble of shit and just broke down when I was being hammered by questions. My therapist didn’t allow me to jump ship and if I did she lead me back to where I was. I had an anxiety attack that kicked everything off. We were talking about surgery and the next thing I know I am crying. On the way home I wanted to drink so bad. I was thinking about gin and how drunk I would get but those feelings have passed.

I was telling my therapist about how my blog writing has dwindled and writing in general when she picked up the letter I wrote and said no sir. I guess I have to have some kind of person in mind while writing in order to get the words out because once they start flowing, I can go on. She did say that I started to get into something while I wrote but then I stopped midsentence. I had no idea what she was talking about. I kind of just went with it because I do that so often now that I don’t even notice. I just know I feel some strong emotion and I move onto something else. A friend who was reading my blog the other night commented on it. I had to laugh. He said at least I was aware of it. I am aware but after the fact not during. It is really hard for me to sit. Hell even while having severe anxiety in session I was talking about the Sox and anything else to get over the feelings. I know I compartmentalize a lot. It happens with trauma. I told her to expect a lot of talking about the Sox all season. She wasn’t phased only with me coming to see her to talk about the sox. HA. I talked a lot about baseball in my previous therapies and I will be damned not to talk about it in this one as well.

Thing that is bothering me is that she wants me to write out stuff, either blog, journal, letter writing, etc. but I don’t think she gets how damn difficult it is for me. There have been moments where I cannot write what I am feeling because I am too jumbled or I just cannot find my words. It is like they are there but I can’t “see” them. What is worse is that the Invega is taking away my voices so the inner conversations I always have are lost. Granted if I am feeling high emotions, they are there because they always are. They always have been. I don’t want to become psychotic when I am feeling high emotions because that will be bad and potentially dangerous to me. The voices tend to tell me to end my life when medication isn’t holding them back so if I am in a high state of despair, I may act on what they say.

I am glad the drinking urge has passed and I don’t feel like drinking. I have a quarter of a bottle left and I seriously thought I would finish it off. It wouldn’t take much for me to become drunk or buzzed from alcohol because I don’t drink normally. I might have a glass of wine occasionally but that is all I will have. I don’t usually drink to get drunk but tonight I wanted to. Glad there was a line at Walgreens to distract me from these thoughts/feelings.

heaviness continues

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

Heaviness continues

I reluctantly went to my psychopharm appointment today. My ankle/foot flared up just before I had to leave so I really didn’t want to leave the house. The pain sort of got better with me moving but soon as I got near my house, each step was agonizing. I could barely make it up the stairs. My legs feel heavy and the feeling of walking in mud has been going on for more than a week now. My psychopharm wants me to think about ECT as this could be depression. Could also be medication related but don’t know. I have been taking the medication late in the afternoon when I am home in case it makes me so drowsy I need to sleep. If it keeps me up at least I will have my night meds to bring me down. We talked about upcoming surgery and how nervous it was making me. She will be having some kind of surgery in the middle of April so I don’t know if I will see her. It all depends on how well I recover and if I am up to seeing her in person. We have been conversing via the patient website thing so we may have to do that until she returns. I am not sure if someone will be covering her while she is gone. I forgot to ask.

The voices have been quiet since the medication increase, though as I told my psychopharm, it is a little too quiet. I am having some difficulty functioning as I just feel so down and my cognition isn’t there. She isn’t sure if it is depression making it this way or not. That is why she either wants to change antipsychotics and have me start ECT. I probably wouldn’t be a candidate now as I am facing surgery in two weeks. She wanted to start the process and I told her no. I am not ready. I am going up on the antidepressant and antipsychotic so would like to see if that changes my mood. If the antidepressant makes me sick, then I will think more of ECT. I will be out of choices for meds if this fails, either on its own therapeutic level or me having side effects.

I am feeling depressed because right now I am in a lot of pain. I honestly don’t want to keep my appointments tomorrow but I already skipped my uro appointment two weeks ago. I don’t want to miss it again. It is with the nurse practitioner who does the catheter stuff not my urologist. I don’t have an appointment with my uro on the books. I need to make one probably after my surgery to see how things went. She said she wanted to redo the urodynamic testing two months after surgery to see if there is changes. Maybe when I call to make the appointment I will ask about the testing as well. I know they can be pretty booked. My urologist thinks I may have some function return after two months post op. I hope so. I hate thinking I am going to cath the rest of my life. It is too depressing to think about.

Walking in mud III

by Midnight Demon, posted in depression

Walked in to therapy feeling like I was walking in mud. Spent the 45 mins talking about my father’s death as this is Anniversary month in so many ways. Miss the bastard so much, even if he drove me crazy. Forgot my cc at home so wasted spoons trying to pick up meds. My legs are building up lactic acid and hurt so bad. Not going back out. I’ll go to pharmacy tomorrow. Fucking legs. And feeling like I was walking in molasses didn’t help. Going up the 4 houses to my street was a killer uphill. Now I’m just going to rest until Wed.

I forgot to take my meds this morning so just taking my daily meds not my BID ones as it is too close to when I take my night meds. I could wait but I choose not to. I’ve gotten in the habit of taken my night meds at 7pm so don’t want to vary from it.

I didn’t get anything to eat while I got my espresso. I still am not hungry, though I should eat. I tried a new cereal and I like it but my stomach doesn’t. It gives me a lot of gas as it has grains and fiber in it. Was not expecting that. It was my only meal last night. Thankfully it stayed in my stomach when I got a nausea wave from a pain spike. Having one right now. It started when I got off the bus. Some idiot decided to pass the bus while at a crosswalk and miraculously a cop caught the jerk. The cop was not happy about it as the car almost hit the pedestrian in the crosswalk. Made for interesting talk. Wonder how many violations he will be brought up.

I brought up my PTSD of trying to lay down. Therapist wants me to use a timer but they make me anxious so she said think about it between now and when we meet again. I usually have to turn on the sound machine (aka whisperer) to sleep. It usually knocks me out in twenty minutes but I tend to leave it on all day, thus making me sleepy and wanting of naps. I am debating taking one after writing this blog. My legs could use the rest. Just hope I don’t get cramps. I had my neurologist call in an anti-spasmodic med as I kept getting them in my feet. They were horrible. She gave me the smallest dose. I told her I was on 4 mg but there no longer is a record of it as I’ve been off it for more than a couple of years now. I stopped taking it when I got prescribe ativan. But ativan tends to make me sleepy so I try not to use it during the day. The med also causes drowsiness so either way I am going to be tired. I try to just take it at night. I might have to take one now as my damn foot is doing its dystonia thing. The muscles in my foot are shaking. Fuck and it is a little after 2pm right now (EST). I am hurting really bad. Going to be an hour or so before my extended release pain meds work. I took an immediate release when I got to the train station after therapy.

I want a steak but that would mean going out and that isn’t happening. If I had cash I could possibly bribe my nephew into picking me up one but he isn’t home and isn’t likely to be until tonight. I am glad he is still at the same job despite the stress it is giving him. Thankful he has found CBD oil works for his anxiety. Wish I could sneak some into my mother’s drinks for her pain. She still does stuff but unlike me, when she rests, her pain settles down. I flare up and I need possibly two days rest. Tomorrow I don’t plan on going out. I might go back to the pharmacy to get my med but it isn’t set in stone and I don’t need the med right now. It is my migraine med and I have a couple to get me through should I get one between now and then.

I wish my father wasn’t on my mind so much today. The fucker always creeps up on me when I least expect it. This week marks 29 years of therapy. Start when I was 15 after a traumatic night of deal with my father and then a second night of dealing with my cousin and my father getting into an argument. Weird that after all this time the depression stayed along with the memories of those nights. I wish I had a better method of killing myself back then. Maybe I wouldn’t be here if I did.

Therapist has a way of being passive aggressive. She said I could skip my appt and she wouldn’t call the cops yet she doesn’t advise me to do it. I have a double appt day when I see her next. A morning appt with urology and then I see her in the afternoon. I am hoping to get through a good chunk of the book I am reading done. Currently reading a book I borrowed from the library by Lawrence Block. It is probably the only Keller book I don’t have. I have the short story ones that have come out over the years. I like Keller because he is a stamp collector. I used to be one when I had money I could spend on it. I still have a portrait of Mexican stamps in a frame. I love it as it has fish and ocean. It is really pretty. I never got around to hanging it when I moved here. My walls are bare except for my “dance win repeat” Sox pic and calendar. When my room gets redone I will hang up the pics. I still have my Star Trek Enterprise wall poster to hang. Had a Dilbert one also but it got wrecked when we moved so I had to trash it.

Only plans I have for the evening is to eat something and to get my book and cup out of my bag. Cup needs to be washed and I would like to finish the chapter I am reading. Block made me laugh while I was on the bus. Still makes me smile when I think of the joke. He is a sarcastic bastard. He responded to my tweet the other day when I said I was reading his book and hoping it helps calm a flare. He said he wishes the same. We have corresponded a couple of times throughout the past few years. I sent him an email about how I found his books helped me during a trying time. He responded with “want to join my newsletter?”

walking in mud II

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

Walking in mud II

I felt like every step I took today was in mud. My legs felt so heavy. It felt like it took me ages to get to where I was going as I was going so damn slow. I couldn’t help it. Then I get to therapy and the therapist asked if I was me as I was a totally different person than I was on Tuesday. Granted I didn’t have 9 mg of Invega running through my veins either. I feel so slow. I don’t know how much is the depression and how much is the meds. We talked about me being sick and she said not to play the victim. I have no idea how I am playing victim if I am struggling with coming to terms that I am sick, that this isn’t going to go away on its own. The fact of the matter is that I probably should be in the hospital. But I got three weeks to go before my surgery and I just can’t do it. The therapist said that after I recover from surgery, I will be placed in a group and I will go. HA. I had to laugh as she was being so stern. I know she is younger than I am. She has to be. I know I shouldn’t make a big deal out of it but I could be a fricken doctor too had mental illness not wrecked my life. Twenty-five years ago I started college after spending two and a half months in the hospital on a psych ward. I was supposed to start college in the fall but I suffered a major depressive episode that landed me in and out of the hospital until I finally overdosed that landed me in the hospital for two and a half months. I never got over it and just when I was getting my shit together, working toward a bachelor’s degree, I got slammed with a psychotic episode that took nearly 7 months to control and then there was no going back off my antipsychotics. I fell into another depression and I don’t think I have ever recovered because CRPS entered my life and then I was permanently disabled four years later. My psychiatrist said I would never work again and a part of me knew then, it was true. As much as I am now denying that I have severe mental illness, I know that I do have it. I am downplaying it because I just cannot cope with the realization that I am sick. I have been sick for quite some time but have always been able to work through it. This time, it has me in the grip of my throat and I think it will kill me. If something doesn’t change over the course of the next few months, and I don’t mean getting crippled by surgery (please let this not happen surgery gods that be), I know I will end up trying to take my life again.