Category: depression

Did it Again

by Midnight Demon, posted in blogging, chronic physical pain, depression, suicide, transgender

Did it Again

Just got off the phone with a good friend of mine. We were talking and I came very close to telling him that I was trans but something stopped me. Then I go on Facebook and lo and behold I find out that Obama has appointed the first transgender woman to some position. I got thinking, where the hell are the trans men? Am I the only one coming out? Should I stay in the closet, so to speak? I am getting so fucking bullshit about this that the suicidal impulses are at an all time high right now. I still think killing myself is the way to go. I will die as a woman, which is what everyone thinks I am anyway so who is going to know?

I just feel like I am wasting my time thinking about ending my life. I know that I probably am not going to go through with it, but I just need it to be there. But here I go again, stuck in the pain and darkness at an hour that isn’t convenient to talk to anyone about how I am feeling so I am writing this stupid blog. Not that I would call anyone. I hate talking to people on the phone, except for my goofy therapist. I haven’t taken my meds yet for the night. I took some trilafon because my thoughts were getting out of hand. The cousin that I saw earlier today called while I was talking to my friend. Figures. I knew he was going to call me tonight. He wants me to call him but it’s too late and he just wants to talk bullshit things. I am tired of bullshit. I can never talk to him when I am like this. He just doesn’t understand or want to deal with the darkness I deal with. No one does.

I know things will be better in the morning, they usually are. But this agitation is unreal right now. I hate feeling this way. I know pain is going to hit sometime soon so I have taken my pain meds in anticipation. My foot is already swollen so its just a matter of fucking time. I was telling my friend about this and of course, all he said was wow. He got it though. He has a medical background. He couldn’t believe I was disabled but he understands. I don’t know why I am so aggravated. I hate being who I am right now. I realized tonight that if I didn’t have breasts, I would be called a man but people don’t look at your face anymore, they just look at your chest to determine gender. It’s sickening. I hate being this way. And if I have to live like this for much longer, I know I will end up in the grave. I was reading today somewhere that suicide isn’t a destiny. Apparently they don’t know me. They also said that people just want their pain to end. Yes, that would be nice but I still will have to deal with the depression, the physical pain, the mental pain, the disability, the you name its. Who wants to live that way? I don’t. I have had enough. So the plan that I put off is not back on the table. Maybe it will be off the table by morning but I doubt it. I want to be something I am not and it’s killing me slowly, every day.

Anxious Tuesday

by Midnight Demon, posted in blogging, chronic physical pain, depression

I have had a hard time trying to write today. I only wrote a half page at Starbucks and then my brain conked out. I got antsy which didn’t help matters. I don’t know why my anxiety has been up lately. I think I have too much on my mind. Plus, not having any funds to get things is another stressor. I should be getting some funds soon from the Otterbox that I sold but I don’t know when that will happen. They had some problem with my account so I had to fix it and it won’t be transferred until the 20th. I hate the waiting game.

I had therapy. We talked about my anxieties surrounding just about everything. She wanted to know how my appt with my psychiatrist went and I told her. She asked if I brought up TMS and I said I didn’t. I just plain forgot. I don’t know if I want to go through TMS anyways. I heard their protocol is pretty strict but I have bipolar disorder not major depression so I might not even be a candidate for it. I know I am mostly depressed more than I am manic but still, one hypomania episode gives you the bipolar diagnosis. I don’t have many in my life. Three that I know of, one that was drug induced and the other two were far and in between but it caused significant downs that I really don’t want to go through again.

We also talked about my former therapist and how nervous I am about sending her my book. I am afraid of rejection so we talked about that. It’s an unsubstantiated fear. I know, mentally, that she won’t reject the book, but emotionally is another story. I don’t know if she will contact me once she gets my book. I hope that she does, but she is under no obligation to do so. After my mocha, I mailed out the book, swallowing my anxiety. I even wanted to go back to the post office and have them cancel it after I walked away but I didn’t. God, this is so stupid. I wish I never came across her address and then had the “bright” idea to send her my book. My therapist keeps telling me it will be okay and that she will enjoy the book and know that I am still alive. It’s been almost 20 years since I last had contact with her. I just worry that the book will come back as return to sender. I will be crushed if that happens.

We also talked about this book that I am reading about shame and perfectionism. She thought it was about trauma work and I told her it was anything but, much to her disappointment. The book has got me thinking in terms of DBT stuff and putting things together and such. Who knew that I would remember DBT stuff when I least expected it. The author of the book talks kind of rag time and the exercise she gave wasn’t too clear in terms of understanding in plain language, or in language that is relevant to what she is asking.

My mood has been okay all day, despite being anxious. I think it’s because I woke up at 0530 in pain. That always puts my mood in a damper because I don’t know how the rest of the day is going to shape up. Right now the throbbing has returned, which could turn into pain. I took a pain pill when I came home and might take another in a little bit. Pain always stresses me out because I can’t do anything I want to do. I was able to go to Starbucks but tomorrow I think I am just going to make my Brazil coffee at home and not go out. I don’t know what is making me so nervous. It could be pain or it could just be that I am worrying over nothing. I am also working on my second book, which my therapist was thrilled about. I have 43 pages done so far. I really want to get it to at least 200. But I got to be in a writing mode and lately, that hasn’t happened, which is nerve racking. I just can’t get settled or think I just can’t write unless it is at a certain time. The truth is, I can write at anytime I want. I have no one telling me this, just me, though I think the stupid voices are influencing me. I am constantly being watched the past few days. I think I need to take a trilafon and just chill out. I do feel a delusion coming on, well, more disordered thinking. I saw my cousin tonight and I swear he was talking to me though his lips weren’t moving. His voice got into my head and I couldn’t shake it until I was a block or so away from the house. I was returning milk for my mother. Apparently, my sister bought the wrong one and I had to be the one to return it. I really don’t know why my thoughts get so disorganized at times. I guess it’s just part of the illness that I have. Usually medication helps me but lately it hasn’t. I might have to go up on my meds eventually. I have been on the same dose for so long. Plus, I am now taking a generic rather than the brand name. I was afraid something like this might happen.

I started writing a letter to my therapist about the book that I am reading. It originally was supposed to be just a word doc about the book. But every time I went to the blank page, my mind would blank out. I forgot instantly what I was thinking. It happens every now and then and I think that is another reason I have become so anxious. I fear losing my writing ability above all else. I hadn’t had a cathartic writing in a week and that is what I am basing my book on. But one thing I have learned, is you can’t force writing or it will be shit. So I went to pen and paper and started writing her this letter as it always frees my thinking when I write to my therapist. When I told my therapist this, she got all excited. She is such a nut. She says that if I write to her more, she might actually check her mail more often. She hasn’t received my letter about the abuse yet. She had to have received it by now as I mailed it last week. I am hoping that is going to be a topic for tomorrow.

Ramblings 75

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

I got my exercise for the day today. I went up two flights of stairs four times. Surprisingly, I wasn’t out of breath by the fourth go round. I was a little bit but not hugely like I was before. It’s so weird that some days I am out of breath climbing one flight and other days I am fine. So weird.

I have been debating sending out my book to my former therapist. I am very scared that it might come back as return to sender. I know the fear is irrational, we ended on good terms and even had a conversation after we ended that was good. I was again looking for a therapist so called her for a referral. She had switched to child psychiatry so wasn’t available. I guess my fear of rejection is still alive and kicking.

Last night, I was in mega pain and couldn’t go to sleep right away. I just didn’t know what to do to calm things down. The pain kept changing, from burning to pounding, to feeling like someone was pounding me with a hammer on all my toe bones, to intense throbbing. Plus my foot was swollen, which didn’t help the pain. I always notice worsening pain when my foot swells up. So I started working on my book. I didn’t write anything new, I just put things all in one document and then sort of formatted the paragraphs and stuff. I got it to 43 pages. I plan on printing it out so I can edit it. The first 20 or so pages are edited but it doesn’t hurt to go over it again. I am slowly having a book formed. And this time, I can print it out on my printer rather than sending it to Staples. I have to say that the cartridge that they sent with the printer is pretty good. I was expecting less than 20 pages but I have had more use out of it. I did buy a cartridge just in case it didn’t hold out. It’s sitting in my office collecting dust. I know I will be using it soon. I don’t think the current cartridge will be able to print 43 pages.

I mailed out my rebate for my phone today. Now I just have to wait eight weeks to get my $50 card. I found a new feature on my phone: blocking. I haven’t used it yet but it might come in handy when I want to sleep and my phone keeps going off with text messages or emails. It really sucks there is no baseball tonight, well, Sox baseball anyway. Since the closing of my game, I have been really bored trying to fill my time. I can only write or read so much. I know that I have a hamper with stuff that I should probably go through and maybe use it for its intended purpose rather than as storage for other things. I haven’t read Dostoevsky in the past few days. My brain just hasn’t wanted to read the dynamic between Aglaia and Myshkin.

I need to take a shower tonight. I was going to take one before going out but time got away from me and the next thing I knew it was time to leave for the bus. I went to Starbucks today but I didn’t write. I really wanted to sleep. I had my mocha, which I don’t think they made right. You are supposed to have 3 shots of espresso in a venti and I think I just got two. I told them my name and they spelled it wrong. It was a new person so didn’t know my name. How can you get a letter of the alphabet wrong?? I don’t know why they put your name your drink anyways. I know its probably so no one takes your drink if you happen to order the same one as a customer before or after you. It’s just annoying that my name is simple and they get it wrong. Maybe I should just go by Mike and there won’t be a problem. Apparently my initials are too hard.

I did write another suicide ramblings again last night. I was trying to stay on topic but it was really difficult. My attention span only lasts for so long and then I get off tangent. My ankle is killing me and I have just been home for less than an hour. This isn’t good. It’s not even the evening time when my pain is at its worse. It’s still the early evening, like 1545. I guess all those stairs are now having their consequences. I really don’t want to take my meds this early because I will be sleeping and it will mess my already screwed up schedule. I guess I won’t be taking that shower I really need. I won’t be able to stand long enough to take it. Being disabled sucks.

More Suicidal Ramblings

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

Tonight I was going through my blogs and came across one called “Am I still a Midnight Demon”? I remember writing that one because at the time, I was writing during the day, not at my usual midnight hours. The time had shifted because I was sleeping regularly and wasn’t so suicidal.

Now my sleep is messed up and I am again thinking about taking my life. I have been thinking about this plan for a long time now. But as much as I want to go through with this date, this time, I just can’t. I cannot take my life because I am stuck here. I would hurt too many people, those around me, those far away from me, people I don’t even know that well. So I am writing because my heart is dark. I recently took a “Rorschach” type of test on the internet. It said that I was dark. My aunt had used that term after she read my book. We were supposed to get together for a chat but we never did. Typical of my family. They always make these plans on getting together but never follow through. No matter. The chat might have caused me to feel bad and I would have hated that. She would be one of the people that would have been hurt the most by my death.

I recently did a google search for a former therapist so I could send her my book and give her a little update on where I was. If she contacted me, and I was dead, that would so suck. I am not expecting her to contact me, but you never know. I hope she remembers who I am. I spent three years of therapy with her so I hope she does remember me.

I really feel at a loss. If I don’t go ahead with my plan, I will be forced to “live” and I don’t quite know what that means. I have been struggling with death for so long that I really don’t know any other way to live. My life, to me, feels worthless. I don’t have a future. Hell I can’t even imagine what will happen tomorrow and that will be happening in the next few hours. I know my sleeping problem is part of the reason I am depressed. I tried to convey this to my psychiatrist at my last meeting but I think I just made light of it and it wasn’t heard. I often say that I am depressed but really don’t tell her how bad things are. I still have appetite issues, even though I haven’t lost or gained any weight. I think my on/off appetite makes up for it. The caloric intake that I have equals itself out on my eating and not eating days, I guess. I feel useless, worthless, full of guilt at times. And you can’t forget about the psychache. Tonight I have had to take deep breaths trying to dislodge the heaviness in my chest. It’s like a heavy coat that I always carry but no one sees. I wish my psych had some magic pill I could take to make it go away but she doesn’t. Her hands are tied because I am such a fucking treatment resistant case. No pill has worked to alleviate my depression, successfully, for a long time. It was remeron that saved me last summer but I don’t think it is working anymore. Hell, I want to give up all my psych meds except my abilify and Ativan. But I know that if I do, I will just feel worse and might be impulsive enough to try and attempt suicide. I need to stay on the abilfy to keep the voices and other psychotic symptoms away. The Ativan I just need to take with the abilify to keep the side effects away. I also need the Ativan to keep the crazies away when I need sleep. It helps to shut my brain down enough so I can go to sleep when I am hyped up, for whatever reason. I don’t get hyped up too often at night but sometimes when it’s after 0200, I need the shut down. Otherwise, I might be up all night. The “crazies” are when the thoughts that are ruminating and I can’t turn them off. I often don’t know what to with myself.

I often think about what my death would bring. If people would be better off without me in this world. I sometimes feel like I am a burden to all that I touch. I hate living this life feeling this way. Nothing makes me happy or brings me joy. I always feel discontented all the time. The only thing that I value in my life is my writing, which sometimes I feel is useless ramblings. I got the brilliant idea of collecting these ramblings and making another book out of them. But then I thought, who wants to read about my suicidal feelings? It’s one thing to post this to the internet. It’s free. But having a book means someone has to pay to read it and not that many people would, I think. My words are meaningless.

I just started a book about shame and perfectionism. It’s a self-help book that deals with insights into what is causing shame. Author has ADHD. She talks in circles and it’s hard to follow her. I don’t know if I am going to get anything from this book but I have learned what has caused my anxiety with the few pages that I have read. I never had anxiety until I moved into the town I currently live in. And it’s because of change I get anxiety. Having a chronic pain illness changes you and I have anxiety because I never know when that pain is going to shoot up. The author doesn’t talk about suicide or suicidal thoughts. My guess is she veered away from that as much as possible. I seriously doubt that in the 20 years she has been practicing, no one has been suicidal at times. But then she doesn’t know me. She doesn’t know that part of the reason I want to end my life is because I cannot take the physical pain I feel nearly every day. Tonight the pain is way up there despite taking my pain medication. I might have to take the stronger pill to quiet it down. I just never know when and if the pain meds are going to work. The pain is from nerve damage that caused a pain syndrome. Most of the pain is physical because the pain meds usually do work but tonight I am feeling different kinds of pain all at once. And it is shooting up my heart rate causing me to feel panic. I think that I might get something known as Cauda Equina Syndrome again and it sets off my post traumatic stress disorder symptoms nearly every time. This change is what causes me to panic. I might not have a full blown anxiety attack but I feel really nerve racked. I try different things to get the pain under control besides medication. I write, I distract, I listen to music. I even talk to my “normal” voices. Sometimes that helps. Not every time, but it helps the anxiety more than the pain flare up. I don’t know if the anxiety that I feel jacks up my pain levels or vice versa. It’s hard to tell. I just know that since I developed this pain syndrome, my life has changed and it hasn’t been for the better. Another reason why I want to take my life. I just want the pain to end and if that means my life has to end, too, well so be it.

Another thing this author talks about is dignity. She states that it can never be taken away because no one can take it from you. How wrong she is. My dignity has hurt in so many ways from my pain illness it’s not funny. I have bladder and bowel accidents. Every time I crap my pants it hurts. My dignity takes a hit. It takes me days to recover from this. My bladder has leaked more over the last few months and I am so used to it that it doesn’t really bother me as much anymore. It’s still in the back of my mind, but it still reminds me that I am not a “whole” person anymore. Those days are gone, long, long gone. I have been dealing with this loss for nine years now. I wish I could say that it gets easier but it doesn’t. The smell always reminds you that you are not a fully functioning person anymore. I used to wear diapers when I went out for more than four hours. But now I don’t. It depresses me more when I take the diaper off and I have urine stains on the it. I don’t realize I leak because I can’t feel myself due to a nerve injury to my cauda equina nerves. They are the nerves in your back and control all the functions below the waist. I usually don’t drink enough fluids throughout the day because the more you drink, the more you got to pee. But some days I am just so thirsty that I need to drink, especially now that summer is approaching. It just sucks.