Some good news and not so good

Some good news and not so good

I went out with friends tonight. It was good but the bad news is my back went out on me even before I left Boston. I couldn’t stand up straight to save my life. Bad news for someone with back trouble. As the night went on, the pain got worse. I basically had to crawl home, which I didn’t not like at all. But it was good seeing my friends and the kids which continue to grow a few feet every time I see them. They already are taller than I am, which is nothing new.

The really good news came today in regards to the CBT counselor. The intake person called me today during therapy, which I will get to in a few. I called back after therapy and I will be meeting a resident for the sessions. The resident should call me sometime this week to set up an appointment, otherwise, I have to wait until December and there is no way I can wait that long. So my date is off the table, for now.

I haven’t told my therapist this, at all. I didn’t want to give her hopes up nor mine. I was really thinking that my suicidal past was going to keep me from going to see someone. Once they find out I have a therapist, I am not sure how it is going to fly. I know it will have to be on days that I am not having my therapy, otherwise my insurance won’t cover both services. I hope the type of CBT that I will have is centered on pain and not depression. I know what is involved with the CBT stuff and depression and that isn’t something I want to go through. I had one session over 20 years ago and it didn’t go too well. I believe that it does help some people, but I am not some people. I need something to help me manage my pain better. If not then there is not point in seeing someone and I will make that very clear to the resident.

My therapist was giving me a song and dance today about how I should still be around. She is the only therapist that I know that doesn’t talk about hospitalizations when suicide is present. She will if it comes to it but she kind of knows I won’t go for it unless I bring it up and then she is for it. But lately, I been finding the hospital to be more trouble than it’s worth. Even their discharge papers they have sent my therapist have shown they are confused about the kind of care that I need and how to address my transgender. One paragraph had “her”, then next had “him” or “he” in it. It was ridiculous. And this is the leader in the psychiatry field, not some shmuck hospital.

She really doesn’t want me to end my life, obviously. She keeps saying that if I die, I will be breaking “us” up. I don’t really know what that means. It has me wicked confused. I feel like I have been put in a relationship status of some kind and I had no idea about it. The more she says it, the more I want to run away from her, and fast.

After I found out about the CBT stuff, I planned out how I was going to tell my therapist as I would be seeing her in person tomorrow. However, those plans have changed as my back is at less than 50%. I am not going to stress walking to the car and then having to worry about an hour’s drive to and back. I’ll just be out the rest of the week and that won’t be good. But I set my clock for 0645 tomorrow. If I am not in any pain, I will keep the Zipcar reservation. If I am in pain, I will cancel it. I have until 0730 to cancel.

My therapist really wants to see me tomorrow. I really want to see her too, but it might not be possible. I really want to give her the cupcakes I made. If I don’t see her, that means they will be all mine and that isn’t a good thing. I might be able to pawn them off to my brother in law but I know he won’t have more than one or two. If I cancel the zipcar, I will just schedule it for another day next week. The cupcakes won’t be good but I can always whip up another cake for her. I really like the cake better than the cupcakes anyway. But then, I am a cake person.

Baking Sunday

Baking Sunday

I reluctantly got up this afternoon because I had to bake and mostly, I had to eat something. After I ate, I started baking. The recipe was easy enough. Though I realize I suck at making cupcakes. Even though I let them cool in the fridge for a while, they still stuck to the paper so you got half of the cake. Oh well. They came out good. I just need to frost them. They didn’t come out like the picture. I can never get it to be as perfect as the picture. I am just not that talented.

After I baked, I was really tired. I retreated back to my room and slept for two hours or so. Both my teams lost today. I am not happy about that. Today was the last game for regular season and I didn’t even watch it. I just watched the last of the 9th inning where they lost. They couldn’t get a hit to save themselves.

I keep thinking about my appointment with my therapist tomorrow. I have a feeling it is going to go badly. She doesn’t understand anything about my suicidality. We are just going to have a go round of guilt trips on why I should stay here. It’s going to be emotional and I am not going to like it.

I’ve been in a bad mood for most of the day. I almost told someone Twitter off because she was just being annoying. I thought about joining BPD chat but the topic didn’t interest me. So I just slept. I thought my mother would call me when dinner was ready but she didn’t. That was fine because she really ticked me off. I was explaining about how the directions to the cupcakes said to let them cool in the fridge for 30 minutes and she was just blowing me off, like duh, you are supposed to cool them off. She annoys me all the time whenever I bake. Then she yelled at me for leaving the dirty dishes in the sink. I was going to clean up but apparently I didn’t do it fast enough. So excuse me. She just annoys me.

I haven’t filled my pill box for the week yet. I’ll do it soon enough. I hate filling it because I am on my feet for more than a few minutes. But once it’s done, it’s done. I’ll probably be going to bed soon after I fill it. My psychiatrist wanted me to read a book by Oliver Sacks and I started it last night. I am not amused. I am not finding it interesting and I usually do find clinical type stories interesting. It must be my mood. Lately, nothing has been holding my interest. I don’t want to do anything. Everything takes so much effort.

Tomorrow night I am supposed to go out with friends for dinner south of Boston. I have been sort of looking forward to it most of the month. It’s usually a fun night. I put on my façade that everything is fine and hunky dory. I will be wearing my brace because I can’t trust my ankle anymore and there will be a lot of walking to be done.

Saturday Blog 64

I didn’t sleep very well last night. I woke up every few hours. When I got up, I made coffee but my half and half was sour so I couldn’t drink the coffee. I wanted to go to the grocery store so I went to get my pumpkin stuff and some bacon. I also bought celery so I can add it to my tuna sandwiches. I thought I would have enough energy to make the cupcakes but I don’t. I just want to go back to sleep.

OSU won 58-0 against Rutgers. And Nebraska is winning right now in the first quarter 7-0. I would watch the Nebraska game but I just can’t. I want to be on my bed resting my leg. I am in pain again from walking around the store and then going to Walgreens to pick up my prescription.

After I came home, I was starving because I didn’t have lunch. I had some Naan with some tuna my mother made. I ate all the tuna and most of the Naan. Then I had a nectarine. Now I am bloated and very sleepy.

I keep thinking of my date and what I am going to do about it. If I don’t go through with my plan, I will feel like a failure. If I try and don’t succeed, then at least I tried and that will be that. But I won’t know unless I try and I want to die very badly. I am feeling all sorts of feelings about this. Sadness is the chief one, guilt is another. I know I don’t have to do this but what choice do I have? The thought of living through this nightmare is astounding. I can’t take the pain day in and day out anymore, not when my daily living activities are involved. There are some days I can’t even stand long enough to brush my teeth. How is this living?

My therapist is working hard so that things don’t come to an end soon. In the end, it’s really just my battle and my battle alone. I have tried to prepare her for my death but she doesn’t want to hear one word of it. I have three sessions this week with her, one of which will be in person. I get to drive out there and see her. I am hoping to have my pumpkin cupcakes made tomorrow to take with me when I go. She’ll like that.

the need to write

The Need to Write

I watched the ballgame most of the way via Twitter. We won 5-3. I didn’t think I was going to last because I was really tired but I knew if they came back and I missed it I would be upset. I am glad I didn’t miss it.

So I lied down and of course pain coursed through my ankle and foot like they do, 10 times worse tonight. I had to take a strong pain pill and some Neurontin. I was taking all shots tonight. Fuck it. I don’t care. I need pain relief. My foot is on fire. My ankle is searing pain. And I have no fire extinguisher other than the Neurontin. My anxiety is up but I already took some Ativan because my right foot was doing this dance tonight that eventually got painful. It just kept on curling up on me, on it’s own. Annoying.

I was able to sleep for a few hours but then woke up because I had to go pee. Damn bladder. Now I am up and I don’t think I can go back to sleep, least not for the next hour or two. I am surprised that I just slept a few hours given the amount of medication that I took. I am still feeling a little paranoid and psychotic. The voices the last few days have not been pleasant. I can tolerate them but it is exhausting. It takes all that I have to ignore their constant bickering, their sarcastic remarks, their criticism, and their commands. If I am doing something one way, they want me to do it another. It’s tiring. I had to take 12 mg of trilafon yesterday to counteract them. I didn’t take it all at once, just every 4-6 hours I took a 4 mg pill. It was the only way to quiet them down.

Later today, I plan on printing out my book. It’s going to be a huge deal because I have 140 pages to go through. Granted the first few are just fluff, just the title page and then copyright page, stuff like that. I want to see if I can do this without an editor. My stories are short so if I take them one at a time, it should be a piece of cake. And unlike my first book, there is nothing to really trigger me because it’s mostly about my psychotic experiences, which I think are funny and amusing. Course, when they were happening they were scary as all hell. But now they are not that way anymore.

I texted my therapist that I was in pain and lazy because I might not be making the pumpkin cupcakes like I wanted to. I am still cursing the Peapod delivery for not delivering the right kind of pumpkin. Now I have to go to the store and get it. But I don’t want to go out later today. I know I am going to be tired as shit as it’s in the middle of the night and I am awake. Plus, it’s going to be raining most of the day. I should have gone to the store yesterday but I was too tired.