Category Archives: mood disorders

Tired of being exhausted and exasperated

Tired of being exhausted and exasperated

I had another bad night of no sleeping until late in the morning. I honestly have no idea what time I went to sleep. Think I slept for a few hours and then had to use the bathroom because I drank water with a protein bar so I could fight off hunger. I remember it being around 7 am so I took my morning meds after I finagled the alarm times so I could sleep. I didn’t get up till 1330. My sister was over doing something for my mother. I think she just washed the dishes as my mother made eggplant and something else for lunch.

I made the rest of the bacon that I had. Everyone wanted some, which was good as I knew I couldn’t eat it all. I was sad to use it all up though as I won’t be getting more until I get paid in two weeks. I just added another package of bacon to my list of groceries.

My mother sugar dropped after I made some coffee. She said she wanted ice cream instead of juice. I begrudgedly gave her a nice helping but it didn’t bring the sugar up to her “normal” level. She didn’t want juice and it was dinner time. Her stomach was bothering her so she just had a bagel. By then it was up to 125 or so. I don’t think she should have taken the insulin but she doesn’t listen to me. She just does what she wants as she has done for years. I get scared her sugar will drop suddenly.

My sister was calling her while my mother was in the bathroom. She called three times and then called me. I was in a flare and was trying to rest to avoid taking a breakthrough med as it makes me sleepy. So instead of her coming upstairs to check on my mother, I had to fucking do it. I tried calling first and she didn’t answer. I don’t know why my mother doesn’t bring the phone in the bathroom. Whatever. She was fine. I called my sister and she said she knew. Fuck you. I knew her husband had told her because he brought up the mail. I am so sick of checking on my mother every five minutes because either my sister or aunt can’t get a hold of her.

I am also sick of my family not understanding my pain condition and how painful going up and down stairs is for me. I wanted to make brownies today because I am going to see my father’s side of the family on Monday and I need to bring a dessert. It was cool today but humid. I thought I could do it later in the afternoon but my ankle had other plans so it didn’t get done. I have no idea what the weather is going to be like tomorrow. My mother explained how she makes them. I just hope they don’t become hard as a rock. I am not good at making brownies. They always burn or get hard. I always tend to overcook them. Or sometimes undercook them. My mother makes them perfect and they are so yummy.

I went down to have dinner. I was so annoyed at my sister that I didn’t want to eat with my mother. I put my phone on do not disturb, allowing only my mother to call me. After I was finished I asked my mother if she wanted anything and she wanted a cup of tea. I made it for her. Then I went upstairs. I had to use the bathroom afterwards not even ten minutes when I was in my room. I hate that. Back down I went. My mother wanted some Tylenol so I got that for her. Then my sister came up and was just a fussy wus. She is just a fucking worry wart. My mother was hurting and was settling down for the night. She has been going to bed before 8 pm lately because she is tired. She needs her rest if she is going to get well. I understand because I know how exhausting chronic pain can be. She did a lot of things today and I am sure that exhausted her as she hasn’t done those things in a few weeks.

Yesterday, my uncle came over (my mother’s brother). I was putting on my ankle brace and he asked me, as always, how is my back. I shot him a look and the lunatic stood up for him saying he is just asking a question. I wouldn’t mind but it’s the same fucking question every time he sees me! Nothing is wrong with my back anymore. It is my fucking ankle and NO it has nothing to do with my fucking back!! I am seriously thinking of going in the hospital just to get away from these nut cases. But I know it will worry my mother, adding stress to her, and I don’t want to cause that. I just want to do my own fucking things and I can’t. I can’t even read without some annoyance from my sister or lunatic. My sister knows she will be okay alone but yet if she can’t reach her for five fucking minutes, she panics. Uh, hello, I am home. If she falls, I think I will hear her. Let her shit in peace, will ya?

Hurricane by Luke Combs

Hurricane by Luke Combs

Fricken love this song. It is I think his first hit. I must have listened to it over a thousand times. Then when his album came out, I listened to One Number Away and it still stands as one of my top 25 songs on my MP3 player. I love Luke Combs music. His voice is just all country, something that is missing in today’s radio. I was listening to the country radio station last night and I had to shut it off because it was the SAME music I heard the night before. I don’t know what it is about Florida Georgia Line in spelling their new song they release but it is getting old. Their latest new song is SIMPLE and it is lame.

I saw my psychiatrist today. I told her my therapist and I are working on a way to keep me alive even though I don’t want to be. He understands it is my overwhelm and flares that are triggering my planning dates and feeling immensely suicidal and trapped. I was in pain before I saw my psych. My ankle bone was acting up. I took my BT med and an hour later I was drowsy, even though I just had 5 shots espresso. I think I need to cut back on the shots because my stomach had a hard time afterwards. I think I am just going to have 4 shots and see how I do. I didn’t put a lot of soy in, so that maybe why it caused some discomfort.

My psych was telling me about a dog named George that talked. I forget the exact title she gave me but I think I found the video on YouTube. It was so funny. I had seen it before but it is always fun to see again. She then emailed me saying she wanted labs. Shit. And they have to be fasting. UGH. I hate fasting labs. I’ll probably get it sometime next week, though I am not sure when. I will have to make sure I don’t eat after 9 pm and then get my blood drawn the day, if I don’t have the night from hell. She gets the labs done because it is a yearly thing with the Invega to make sure it isn’t doing funny stuff to my lipids or setting off diabetes. She probably ordered another chem 7 to check my glucose and sodium again. Fun stuff.

I was in agony with my damn ankle bone. It was hurting me so much. And there are such rude people on the train. Here I am with a brace on each leg and these two women raced on the train to the disabled seating. I was pissed. Luckily there was a seat available next to one of them and I didn’t care that my ass cheek touched the woman next to me. Tough shit. My bus home was late and I had to go to the pharmacy before going home. I bought some chimichangas for dinner and some ice cream sandwiches. My mother didn’t like it as it was too chocolatey. More for me! The house was so hot because my lunatic aunt had shut the back door because “it was letting the heat in”. Fucking moron. I couldn’t believe she was still there. Then my sister and I found out why. She didn’t want to leave my mother alone. I knew she felt like my mother was an invalid. Made my sister and I mad. She doesn’t need to be babysat. She is an adult and needs to do stuff on her own in order to get better. Waiting on her is not going to help her. I am just glad she left when we came home. I had to leave early because she was annoying the fuck out of me this morning, fucking yelling at the TV being stupid. I know I yell at the TV when I watch sports but she yells at every show she watches! That is just absurd!!

I am going to try and rest this weekend but I need to do laundry as the hamper is full. It is mostly towels and my clothes as I was pretty sweaty this week. I hope it is going to be cooler next week. Next Saturday I was supposed to go on a Booze Cruise but there is no way I can manage with being in two braces. The stairs are narrow and I don’t want to risk I fall. I went last year and loved it so much but it was hard to manage with my AFO going up and down the stairs. I feel sad that I can’t make it and see my beautiful town I live and grew up in on the water. I am sure my sister will post pics. I will tell her to take pics so I can steal them, LOL. I love Boston so much. I really want to go to the Boston Harbor Cruise. I have never been to Thompson’s Island or Spectacle Island in Boston Harbor. I really love George’s Island because there is the fort that was built during the Civil War that is still there, even though it is crumbling. Some parts of the fort you cannot have access to because it is collapsing. It is cool but I can’t walk around like I used to. It would be nice to bring a lunch and my chair and just sit on the grass and see the water around the island. I love the water. It calms me down. I miss my home town so much, which had the harbor on one side and Chelsea Creek on the other. It was really cool. I miss walking so much. I know that I would lose so much weight if I was able to walk like I used to. But the town I am living in now has too many hills and it is exhausting walking just to the pharmacy. I am lucky if I can walk around the block to go to the Post Office some days.

I start another round of PT next week. My only appt of the week. Monday I see family and hope to go swimming in my cousin’s pool. Depends on the weather and how I feel. She has an inground pool. I can’t wait to see them. I have to remember to bring my BT meds with me. They make me really drowsy so I hope I don’t have to use them.

Twitter Rant: Body Dysmorphia

Twitter Rant: Body Dysmorphia

I am having serious body dysmorphia because I am literally stuck in my female body and I want to be a male. but due to my pain condition, I can’t have T to move forward with my transition. I want top surgery but can’t have it because of $$$. I have had bought of severe suicidality today because I am in the wrong fucking body. then I found out someone reported a tweet to twitter because I was suicidal. twitter didn’t tell me what tweet it was so I don’t fucking care anymore. I am tired of people being “scared” of the word “suicide”. You know, people used to be afraid of the word cancer. they thought that saying the word would give them the disease. this was back in the 1800s and early 1940s or so (guessing here) but guess what, you cannot get cancer from talking about it the same fucking way that if you talk about suicide, it will NOT LEAD TO SUICIDE!!! Talking about suicide, least for me is to let off steam. I suffer from chronic suicidiality and need an outlet. Twitter is my outlet if suicide upsets you, maybe you should find another platform to use. or better yet, don’t follow me or even better, MUTE the word so it doesn’t pop up in your timeline. I am sick of being reported. I know what to do should I feel like ACTING on my thoughts/feelings I have the emergency numbers and I can call my psychaitrist 24/7 if I need to. and, get this, I know where there is an emergency room where I can be admitted if that feels like I should be right now. Suicide doesn’t mean end of life when talking/venting about it. so, yea, today has been a hard day because of my damn things on my chest. I wore a tank top in public for the first time and I will never wear one again because I felt too exposed. I didn’t feel manly. I felt like a fucking female. and it hurts. it fucking does and if you don’t understand it, get off my fucking timeline. I am not going to explain how I feel like an asshole because I am in the wrong body

9 Aug 2018

9 Aug 2018

I had wanted today to be a self-care day. I made breakfast and coffee, then went up to my room, hoping to finish Norse Mythology. I have a few chapter left. I played with my phone and then settled down to read. I read one chapter when the coffee made me really sleepy. I wanted a nap and was all settled when t-storms came out with high winds and pouring rain. I grabbed my ankle brace and a sock then left my room. I had the hallway window open, which was all wet as the rain was coming in. The stairs were wet. I closed the windows and was glad I didn’t put the sock on before leaving my room as it would have been wet. I went downstairs and my mother was oblivious to the weather. She was in the bathroom, her walker blocking the tiny hallway we have so I had to go through the dining room to get to the kitchen. Rain was wetting the screen door but didn’t come in too much. The kitchen windows were still closed which I am glad as they were drenched with rain. I put my brace on once I put a towel on the floor by the door just in case water decided to come in.

I then peeled potatoes for dinner. I accidently took out fish instead of American cheese. I didn’t realize the error until I felt the bag and wondered why it was really soft. Then I read the label and was like oops. So I had to make dinner now because my mother is still not making big meals. I chopped up the potatoes after peeling so they would cook faster. My mother told me how to make the fish as I have never made it before. It cooked quickly as I made the mashed potatoes, which I made soupy as I put too much milk in it. Oh well. My mother wanted to make potato pancakes with the leftovers. I guess she won’t be able to now.

I am really hurting. My ankle bone has been feeling like someone is hitting with a hammer for most of the day, in spurts. I had taken a BT med before I went downstairs to cook but I was on my feet a lot of the time. I got to do the dishes but I am out of gas. I called my mother and she said she will do what she can do. I said don’t hurt yourself! I will feel horrible if she did. I wanted her to call my sister to do them. Fuck. I wish I wasn’t so tired and my ankle wasn’t hurting so much, both of them are hurting. I still need to take my meds. I think it is going to be an early night for me, but not too early as I will wake up before 1 am and then be up for the night.

Swear post warning offensive language here in

Swear post warning offensive language here in

So about two hours ago, I was smelling something. Had no idea what the hell it was. I thought maybe a cord was burning, something was catching fire, checked all my wires and electrical stuff. Nothing. I go downstairs to see if my mother sprayed something, and it is coming from the hallway, or so I thought. I went back upstairs. The smell got worse. I decided to open the damn window, screw the storms. I shut the vent or opened it (no idea) on my AC. Then go downstairs again because I had to pee. I check on my mother as her sugar was low. She was fine and then I see the culprit. One of my sisters bought a Renuzit freshener thing that was pineapple and coconut. It was stinking up the house. I shut it, told my mother, put it in the kitchen, and then went back upstairs fucking swearing.

I was talking with my BFF about stuff. I asked if she was okay. She said she was but I knew she was stressed. I won’t go into it but I was glad she told me. I was getting sleepy so I told her goodnight and I will check in with her tomorrow. She said she hopes to sleep too. I lay down, and my fucking legs become stone and hurt like fucking hell. I sit up, take some magnesium as that is the only thing I can think of to calm it down. I shift my position, causing me to move my ankle. Dumb fucking move. I saw fucking stars. Still hurting so fucking bad. I waited, hoping it would settle down. It didn’t. BT med time! I start having anxiety. I am ready to call my fucking psychiatrist, but what the hell is she gonna do? It is fucking midnight. I hate this fucking shit.

All day I have been having body dysmorphia issues. I really hate my breasts. I want top surgery so damn bad. But because of my damn pain issues, I can’t have testosterone treatment, which is delaying the fucking top surgery consults and what not. If I had the money, they would be long gone! I would find a decent surgeon and be done with it. I hate my body. I hate myself more. I feel like I am a fucking idiot who should be fucking dead. My therapist said that it was reasonable that I am thinking about suicide. Who wouldn’t be if they were in my crummy shoes?

I have tried to get my head around it. Someone reported me, again, to Twitter about my talk about suicide. I have no idea what tweet it was as they didn’t tell me. If I did, I don’t remember it. I know I posted last Friday after my pain doc appt. But I don’t think I have posted anything this week. Unless the word itself, suicide, is what freaks people out and makes them report people. I don’t know. They are assholes. If they would talk to me, that would be okay. I don’t know. Sometimes I want to talk and other times, I get the concerned but I don’t know what to do with you people. And it is all fake sometimes. Pisses me off, like bother someone else with you fake sympathy or whatever bullshit you are giving me right now. I know what to do if my safety is in danger. Been down that road one too many times and don’t think that just because I talk about suicide that I don’t know the crisis number or the crisis text number or someone I can call if I feel like I am going to act on my thoughts/feelings. It’s as simple as that. Do I want to end my life, yes I do. Do I want to do it right this second? No. But the time will come when I have all my ducks in a row to execute my plan. I am working with my therapist to kind of break the cycle of overwhelm/end my life thoughts. But until then, I can still plan. It is an escape. You don’t believe me, do research.

I want the meds to work NOW. I don’t want to fucking wait. I am tired of waiting. I used to be a patient person. Now I am realizing being patient, means just that. You are a patient of some kind to someone. The pain doc, psychiatrist, physical therapist, etc. you have to wait to see them. And it fucking sucks. I am tired of waiting. I want treatment now. And dammit, if I don’t get treatment, I am going to die. Maybe not by the damn disease/condition I have, but by other means, which I don’t know exactly what they are. This dying this isn’t easy. Probably is if you have some lethal illness but not a chronic painful one.

I hate that I can’t move my damn ankle the way that it is suppose to move. It gets fucking upset with me. Going down the stairs or up the stairs aggravate it. My right ankle is sprained so it hurts because the tendons are swollen and stretched a little bit more than they are supposed to be. I also walked a lot today. And went up and down the stairs a lot to find out what that fucking smell was that was irritating my respiratory system. Set off my allergies big time. I am sending them a text tomorrow and put it in all caps. That will tell them how fucking pissed off I am. Assholes. I don’t know which sister it was, most likely the middle one but I can’t be sure. They will definitely hear about it later today.