Category: mental disorders

seriously want to know…

by Midnight Demon, posted in depression, mental disorders, mental illness, suicide, suicide attempt

Seriously want to know why I take meds when it doesn’t seem to make a difference. I really believe suicidal thinking is more of a psychological think more than a biological thing, because shouldn’t I be better with meds than without? I have been on meds since I was sixteen. I have had many suicide attempts while on meds and while off meds, my most serious attempts being while ON. I am not saying that the medication that I take for my mood disorder made me suicidal. If that were the case, I think I would be dead by now. But seeing as I have been doing what the books tell you, to be in therapy and to have a medication regimen, shouldn’t I be LESS suicidal or at least a little bit more content with my life that I am not thinking of taking my life every day?

I have been on all the different psychotropic medications out there, from lithium to valproic acid, from Prozac to Zoloft, from remeron to cymbalta, all of the anti psychotics to deal with the nagging voices in my head that criticize me and tell me to kill myself. These voices sound like real voices to me and sometimes I have to be careful when others are around because they do think I am crazy when I have a conversation with myself. And I mean a full-fledged conversation with questions and answers. I don’t see my voices, just hear them. And a tiny pink pill called Abilify helps me to control them when they get too loud.  Nothing else works with less side effects. And side effects is what kept me going from med to med to what I take today which is a handful of pills a day. Not only do I take meds for my mental illness, I take it for my blood pressure, menstrual cycle, GERD, pain, spasms, anxiety/worry, and allergies. I long for the day when I was only taking one or two pills a day.

Life has become more complicated and so my has my suicidality. I thought that if I stayed in talk therapy, I would be better. I thought that if I took medication, my moods would be better and I would be able to function. But none of that is true for me. I have struggled with this illness for the past twenty years and no break has happened. I am constantly depressed, constantly suicidal. I just cannot be happy or if I am it is short lived. My one highlight of the day is my Starbucks trips. I get my latte or mocha and all is right with the world for a little while. I might write in my journal or just watch the traffic go by on the street or just take my coffee and head home, which is what I do most days. I just cannot be out for more than an hour. I become fatigued too quickly and then need to lie down. Plus if I stand long while waiting for the bus, my leg gets inflamed and then starts hurting me. I hate being in chronic physical pain almost as much as I hate being in chronic psychological pain.

Why do I still continue to take my meds despite not feeling 100% better? I know what my life is like while taking the meds versus when I don’t. it’s not pretty. I can barely get out of bed and do things on most days when I don’t take my meds. Taking my meds give me the hope I need to try and see the silver lining in some shape or form. If I didn’t believe that a tomorrow will be better than today, then I think I would have killed myself a long time ago and succeeded. I know I don’t have much to live for. I am hopeless most days. But I do the routine as frustrating as it can be some days. I know my psychiatrist has helped me more than anyone. She is my rock of hope when I no longer have one. When I went on a med hiatus, she is the one that got me back on the meds because my heart was so heavy I didn’t think I was going to make it.

There are some people in my life that I am still here for and I guess that is why I take my meds. I have to be here for my nieces and nephew. I don’t want to. I rather be six feet under pushing up daisies for an eternity. But not today. Today is a dreary day in Boston and I am just going to sit in bed and write this story about why I take my meds and maybe sleep some. I have nothing else to do today. It is my day to relax and put my feet up. I ran out of spoons on Tuesday and today is the day that I am trying to collect them back.

sense of humor keeping me alive?

by Midnight Demon, posted in depression, mental disorders, mental illness, suicide, suicide attempt, transgender

Sense of humor keeping me alive?

Been thinking about this today.. I was at an interview meeting for first year medical students and I remember joking a lot with the interviewer. I was talking about serious stuff, like my suicide and transgender issues and I kept thinking why is every one laughing. I was laughing at myself, but inside. The voices were watching me and I could tell they were not pleased. They always get nervous when I tell people my most personal thoughts. I guess they get jealous when I tell people outside because the voices are lonely and they need me to continue to talk to them to exist. I have not been faithful with my medication the past few days. I find that my mind is better for writing when I am not medicated than when I am. It truly sucks trying to write and you can’t because the thoughts just are not flowing.

I began reading a book on sibling suicide written by a friend of mine. I had no idea how suicide affected siblings. I never thought about how my sisters would react to my death if I died by my own hand. I was more afraid of their children’s grief than theirs. I guess you can say I am too old to kill myself but that does not mean I want to live. I am forced to live because of my responsibilities to others. That is why I am still here. I can joke about suicide and suicidal thinking, because it is who I am. Right now I am feeling like the biggest asshole on the planet and I am betting not a single person on facebook responds to it. I know I post a lot of statuses. It is because I am bored most of the time and have to tell people what I am doing like they really care. I find that less meaningful statuses draw more attention than serious ones. I don’t know why that seems important to me but I have noticed it. Very rarely do my family members respond. Usually my friends do. Even those that are across the pond will respond. I know that not everyone can respond to each of my twenty or more statuses but the ones that mean the most to me are the ones that I find the most painful. I complain a lot about being in chronic pain. I use my Facebook status to vent about how awful I feel, both physically and mentally. It is very rare that I will post I am having a good day. The days last week are gone and I doubt they will happen again. I feel like my air has been let out of the balloon and now I am back to my usual level of depression.

Today I had a migraine. It was really bright outside and I resented having to go out to this meeting but I agreed and I always hold up to my commitments no matter how bad I was feeling. In this meeting I divulged more than I should have and I think that is why I am feeling very terrible now. I can’t shut up the voices in my head. They have been chattering non-stop since I have come home. I have been trying to read to drown them out but it does no good. They keep telling me I am a loser and won’t amount to a thing. That the book deal with my friend will never happen, that it was a joke to start with and I am starting to believe them because why would someone want to hear my voice? What makes me so damn special that others want to know my struggles with depression and suicide and being a transgender or being homosexual? But am I really homosexual if I am a guy and like women? I am so confused!!! I just want to fricken die rather than deal with this stuff. I know that I must continue to live to make others happen but it’s killing me to struggle every damn day, whether I pee my pants, crap my pants, am in chronic pain with my stupid ankle or have the nerve pain from hell or just have the biggest psychache in the world for no reason other than I am not who I am. I am a guy trapped in a woman’s body and it is killing me to be this way.

In the thick of the Abyss

by Midnight Demon, posted in depression, mental disorders, mental illness, suicide, suicide attempt

I don’t know why but the past few days have my mood going down and down instead of in the opposite direction despite the changes in my circumstance. I now know how Poe felt when he wrote I am wretched and know not why. “My feelings at this moment are pitiable indeed.  I am suffering under a depression of spirits much as I have never felt before.  I have struggled in vain against the influence of this melancholy-you will believe me when I say that am still miserable in spite of the great improvements in my circumstances.  I say you will believe me, and for this simple reason, that a man who is writing for effect does not write thus.  My heart is open before you if it be worth reading. Read it.  I am wretched and know not why.  Console me-for you can. But let it be quickly or it will be too late.  Write me immediately. Convince me that it is worth one’s while -that it is all necessary to live, and you will indeed prove yourself my friend.  Persuade me to do what is right. I do not mean this- I do not mean that you should consider what I now write a jest-oh pity me! For I feel that my words are incoherent- but I will recover myself.  You will not fail to see that I am suffering under a depression of spirits which will [not fail to] ruin me should it be long continued.” edgar allan poe

 I truly think that I am a bad person who just deserves evil things to come at me not good. I can’t understand why though. People say that I write good but I think it’s crap. I am supposed to have this editorial position but yet I don’t think I should have it despite the person who wants me to have this job thinks I should. I know she is a better judge of character. I just can’t see anything but darkness right now and for someone to tell me that there is a light at the end of the tunnel, well let’s just hope they don’t because I know I will dope slap them. There is no light as far as I can see. Today is a dreary day and it should make me happy but instead it just eases my gloom because it’s how I feel. I started feeling down Sunday and it’s now Tuesday. I don’t see my mood changing. What is worse is that I had an impulse to put a rope around my neck this afternoon soon as I got home from forcing myself out. It quickly went away but the thought unsettled me. I guess it doesn’t help that I can do this at anytime, anywhere I choose. It won’t take much to do. I just need the guts to do it. I am going down this road and it is horribly painful. I had another incontinent episode today so that further brought me down. You would think I would be used to pissing my pants but I am not. Yesterday I got awarded being disabled and I can’t help but think that I am been demoralized because of it. I no longer feel like I have a right to anything, much less life. It is the price you pay with a damaged nerve and damaged mind. I can’t go back and change things but I can at least appreciate things more. I just hope I am fit enough for the task ahead with this writing that I am doing but I am not so sure.

Writing has always been something that I do to pass time and it has worked well. When I am not writing, I am deeper in the abyss. There have been studies on it but I can’t think of who the guys are right now. Not that it really matter to you, my reader. I have wondered always if I am too smart for my own good. Maybe I am. Maybe I’m not. I don’t know anymore. I just know my heart is broken and I don’t know what caused it to be this way. I am just so damn downhearted and it is just getting worse.

A Drunken Ramble about fear of suicide

by Midnight Demon, posted in mental disorders, mental illness, suicide, suicide attempt

Most people have fears of death, but for those that are suicidal, they tend to want death because they believe death is the only way out. I emphasize the word only because according to the father of suicidology, Edwin Shneidman, “it is a very dangerous word in the world of the suicidal mind”. These people generally will only think of fear due to what Marsha Linehan calls fear of suicide, which is the belief that failure, cowardice, or fear of death that prevents someone from committing suicide.

Aside from these reasons for attempters to try, there is the fear of loved ones and friends of losing someone by death that has not been talked about. Mental illness in some form will affect someone you know more than you think. Even the most upbeat person can suffer from depression but no on knows this because they keep it hidden.

Most people shy away from suicide talk. They don’t want to hear it or will make stupid comments such as “people who commit suicide are selfish”, that “it’s wrong to take one’s life because only God can do that”. Despite these statements, hundreds of people attempt suicide every day. Suicide is the 3rd top killer of Americans more than heart attacks and cancer combined. How can people take their life is a puzzling question. It’s very difficult to kill the human body due to the fight/flight response. I know because on many occasions where I tried, my fight/flight kicked in and I made a call for help, much to my chagrin.  Prevention starts with seeking help but very few people in desperation will call for help before an attempt. They may call for help after or if they survive and don’t want to go through the survivor bullshit (the stomach pumping, hospitalization, stitching of wounds, etc).
Even therapists are fearful of suicide attempters or of the suicide talk. Most clinicians will actually pawn the client off to another therapist “more qualified” or outright refuse to see them. I have had this happen to me ten times while trying to find another therapist within a five mile radius of my house. 10 therapists!!!! TEN professionals refused to treat me because of my history of suicide attempts and current suicidal thinking. I could understand that they did not want to take me on as a multi-risk client and would have liked them to make at least one session with me before I lived up to their presumptions of me. But instead they decided to chuck me off to another therapist who referred me to another therapist who, well you get the picture. So for my therapy at the present time, I have to have phone therapy with someone who is thirty miles away from me because I do not have a car. She took a chance on me and we have been together for eleven years now. She stuck through the depths of my suicidal plans for the past eight years, my nerve condition, and my overall mental illness, which can at times include psychosis and delusions. I don’t know why she puts up with me but she does. Same could be said of her because she is the only therapist I ever had that talks more than I do. I have called her on it so many times that I lost count. Nothing like the analytical consultant I saw. He was strictly Freudian.