Mixed Messages

Mixed messages

I was talking with a friend of mine tonight. I told her the deal with the trilafon and I realized that my psychiatrist is giving me mixed messages. She is okay with me taking up to 8 mg of trilafon a day but yet she is only giving me 4 mg a day scripts. I have 30 pills to play with. Some days I need 12 mg and I have told her this. I don’t know what to do.

The voices are telling me, of course, not to take anything. Fat chance of that happening. I take it when they are not “looking”. Today I was having musical hallucinations so I had to take something. 4 mg just doesn’t hold me the whole day anymore. It never really did. 8 mg is the magic number. I know that she is hesitant to put me on a higher dose because of side effects. Trilafon can give you nasty side effects worse than the 2nd generation anti-psychotics. But I never had those side effects while taking it. Granted, I have never taken the drug longer than a month at a time and my psychiatrist is being really careful with me. For the first time in over 20 years she did a mini neuro exam while I was in the office, checking for tics and TD and stuff.

I just need more pills so I am not anxious about running out of meds. I am good right now because I just filled my script but in a week or so, I am going to be running low. I don’t see her for three weeks and I have approximately two weeks of meds. That isn’t going to stretch.

I have never been good at asking what I need. It’s easier for me to write an email than it will be to page her and tell her what I need over the phone. Trouble is that sometimes she doesn’t answer the emails right away and there is no way for me to know if she read it at all. Least with me talking to her on the phone, I can get an answer right then and there. But it’s hard for me to say that I need more pills. I don’t know why that is but it is. I feel like I am asking too much. But in reality, I know that I am not. I wish I wasn’t in the predicament. If my doc had just written the script for twice a day, I would be set and wouldn’t be in the conundrum.

Writing Itch 2

Writing Itch 2

I have been trying all sorts of things to get my mind of the writing itch, I even tried writing in my journal but nothing has scratch it so it calms down.

I am listening to the ball game because it usually calms me down, even though I get excited while listening. They have a new player on the team and I am excited to hear how he pans out.

I have been trying hard on what to write and I still got nothing so this might just be a rant of sorts or just a random thoughts put on a computer screen. Today I read about how my favorite actor, Wil Wheaton was having trouble finding work as an on-screen actor. He really misses being an actor. I miss seeing him on the screen. I wish they would give him a chance because I really think he is a good actor. But I guess as young actors age, they don’t find work so easily. He is busy writing, which has kept him busy. I guess it’s better than doing nothing. And I know how hard it is to write. But he is more creative than I am. I write every day but I don’t think it’s substantial. I have questioned whether what I write really helps people because I don’t get many likes like I used to and my comments are down.

I don’t know if people reading this right now have read my previous blog of the day. I am reading a chapter on the psychologist/psychiatrist Adler. He has a unique perspective of how to treat diagnosis by treating the whole person rather than the diagnosis. It’s kind of what my therapist has been doing, treating me as a person rather than a diagnosis. My psychiatrist also does the same thing. She has been the most liberal psych that I ever had, but the she has been the ONLY outpatient psychiatrist I ever had. I say liberal because she is not a drug pusher like some psychiatrists are. She rather you take less medication than more. That is why I was kind of shocked that when we restarted the Zoloft, I thought she wanted me on 50 mg and instead she wanted me on 100 mg. That is the only time that we kind of disagreed but I am glad I am on 100 mg because it is helping me cope better. It hasn’t really “cured” me of my depression, like most medications, but it does relief some of the symptoms.

I was reading an old notebook that had some journal entries about therapy way back in 2001. It talked about my therapy sessions and what was going on then. I found that despite the years, I am no better. Even though I was reading some blogs from last year, things are the same as far as being depressed and suicidal. I want to “fix” myself but have not been able to find the right treatment even though I have been in treatment. Medication and talk therapy only goes so far. I think that if I wasn’t in chronic pain all the time, I would most likely be better off. I guess you really have to be careful what you wish for because there were times before Cauda Equina Syndrome entered my life that I sometimes wish I was in physical pain than in emotional pain. I had no idea how debilitating physical pain could be. I thought it would be “easier” because there are medications for physical pain. But the daily pain that I have is so exhausting. Even with me trying to take a shower this afternoon was tiring and painful. I could barely stand for 10 minutes to shower. I had to sit for a little bit before I could shut the water off and dry myself. It was terrible. I don’t wish this on my worst enemies. I knew back then in 2000 that I had a bad back. I never should have gone to a chiropractor but I did because it was some relief. I should have stopped going when I was better but they just suck you in for more adjustments because it’s “better for your health”. Yea, right. I wouldn’t recommend them for shit now and especially if you have herniated discs in your back or neck. That is just causing trouble.

This month marks sixteen years that I have known my therapist. We met for the first time but unfortunately, I couldn’t see her right away because of insurance issues. I was so thankful that in January she was still accepting patients. I really don’t know what I would do without her. She has been my voice of reason at times, even though she can be a real pain in the ass as well. She has saved my life numerous times, by telling me she cares for me and sometimes she loves me. I know it’s a kind of love that two people have because I love her, too, though I don’t show it often. I was pretty much in love with her the day I met her. I remember a session where I finally admitted my feelings for her and the next day I saw her, she wore a mini skirt and her legs were and are gorgeous. She doesn’t wear skirts anymore, least not short ones since she is married but good god almighty, I could hardly speak that day. And I was totally like, you got to be kidding me. I got her a birthday present that I will give her at the end of the month when I see her again. Her birthday is this weekend. Got to love Google for helping me find these things about her.

There is a LOT of stuff that I have given her over the years. She must have a file cabinet just for my letters alone. I used to write to her all the time when we were seeing each other. That was when I had a car and she was local, not out in the boonies like she is today. I do miss seeing her but talking on the phone is fine. I think it’s better because I have more face to face contact with her when I see her than I did before. I still might look at the floor than talking with her but there is definitely more face contact. Before I would just spend the entire session looking at a chair or the floor or something on her rug. Anything but her face. It was too scary because I didn’t want the connection. Now that we have the connection, I can look at her without worry, though it still is scary at times.

I sent her the link to my blog again about Chronic pain and suicidality. I want her to read it before our next session because I think it’s important for her to know. She didn’t have time to read it on Monday or before today’s session. If she doesn’t read it, I feel like why bother sending her stuff. Same with the letters. That is why I don’t write them anymore because she doesn’t read them or it takes her a long time to get to them. I know she only has a few minutes between sessions but I just feel like she is missing out on my work if she doesn’t read what I send her. I rather her be late to session than her not reading my blog or letter. If I am putting effort into this thing, the least she can do is try to read it.

I counted my antipsychotic pills (trilafon) and found that I will run out before I see my psychiatrist again. I will have to email her to send another script sometime next week. I thought I wouldn’t run out but if I am taking 2 a day, I will run out. I need to take 2 to keep the paranoia and voices down. I find that it works best if I take it twice a day than once a day. I know my psych just wants me to take it once a day but it doesn’t cover me the whole day. I have tried to just take it at night because that is when the voices are at the worst. It just doesn’t seem to hold me and then a few hours later I will need another dose because I am still up battling the voices so I can sleep. I don’t want to bother her as she is on vacation. She did ask me if I was set on meds and I thought I would be okay with the trilafon but I miscalculated. 30 pills only gets you so far in two weeks. Some days I need 12 mg because the voices are so damn bad. I have been getting musical hallucinations lately that have been god awful. I hear a song over and over like it is playing but it’s not. And it plays the entire song over and over. I have tried listening to music to stop it from playing but it doesn’t help. Then there are a battle between what is in my head and what is actually playing on my MP3 player. It sucks. Least the lyrics haven’t changed so that is good. Sometimes the lyrics will tell me to do things, even if I have heard the same song a million times. It’s just odd. But it’s just part of the psychosis. And it’s worse at night than during the day. Everything is worse at night. My pain, physically and mentally, the voices, the songs, the paranoia, the delusions. Everything.

Dealing with Chronic Pain and Suicidality

Dealing with Chronic Pain and Suicidality

Over the past few days, I have been in moderate to severe pain. I have a pain syndrome that flares up without warning, usually right before I am to go to sleep. I will lie down and my ankle and foot will flare up with pain. Normally, I will just take a couple of pain pills, wait for them to kick in and then go to sleep. The pills work because it’s physical pain. What is really troubling me, lately, is the persistent pain, night after night after night.

It doesn’t matter what I do during the day. I can go out, have my daily routine of going to Starbucks and writing for a bit before returning home. I might be out for an hour or two, depending on how much I feel like writing and if the coffee holds out. Lately, despite drinking coffee, I just want to sleep. I have been sleeping more the past week that I have the entire year. A dear friend says that it’s because I haven’t been sleeping and I should take advantage of it because it might not last. I agree with that. It’s unusual for me to sleep all day as I never usually do unless I am deeply depressed.

The other night, I snapped when the pain hit. I became really suicidal and seriously wanted to end my life that night. Trouble was that I was in no position to do it. I vowed never to kill myself in my home where my family members could find me. I have a place that I want to go but the heat has been the only thing holding me back, at the moment. I feel like I don’t have a life. That this battle between chronic pain and depression is just too much to bear. I am tired of fighting it night after night after night.

It’s a tiring battle. I think that is part of the reason I have been so tired lately. I am just mentally and physically exhausted from dealing with my mental illness and my physical illness. No one knows how hard it is unless you deal with one or the other. The past few hours, I have been dealing with a rebound of songs in my head that sound like they are playing but they are not. It’s part of the psychosis. And for the past year, I have been battling that aspect of my illness.

I have known since I was 16 that I needed to be on medication for the rest of my life for my mental illness. I knew there was no other way to deal with it. Through trial and error, I finally found the right combo of meds. Unfortunately, finding the right antipsychotic meds has been elusive. Medications that used to work, no longer do so. I have gone back to the older generation of meds because they work for me better than the second generation. It’s a little bit more riskier because of side effects but I am not on that high of a dose. I just hope that in a month or two I am still on the same medication and that I don’t need to change. That is my fear.

I have known for a very long time the odds of me taking my life is great. I am in the high risk category of risk because of my past history. I can write about this history but it’s not important and will take up too much of time. I just know that one day my life will end by my own hand. I know that this will happen because I feel it. I know that it will happen sometime this year. My biggest fear is that if there is a heaven or hell, I will spend eternity with my father and that is something that sometimes keeps me here. But I don’t believe in those things but who knows what truly happens when you die.

They say that most people who are suicidal just want to end their pain. That is true. I want to end my pain and my suffering because no one can help me with it. Yes, I take pain meds to deal with the physical aspect of my suffering and it does help. But it does nothing for my psychache, for my psychological pain that I feel. I still feel that I should die because I am so damn tired of living this so called life. I don’t have a reason for living. I don’t have a purpose. I have nothing keeping me here. Sure I have my family that are dear to me. But what good is it if I can’t enjoy their presence because of pain? That I can stay with them for a short while and then have to go back up to my room to put my foot up because otherwise I am in too much pain to be good to anyone? Sometimes, I really think that my family and the people in my life will be better off without me.

An Open Discussion About Suicidal Thoughts and Chronic Pain

An Open Discussion About Suicidal Thoughts and Chronic Pain

For the past twenty-four hours, I have been in a suicidal quandary. Last night I was in severe pain for the umpteenth time in a row. I had wanted to go to sleep but my ankle said, nope, not yet. I got really angry because I so wanted to sleep. It was past midnight. I had finished watching the ball game. I had winded down. I was ready for sleep. But pain said no and because it was the third or fourth night in a row that this happened, I was fed up. I wanted to kill myself. I felt there was no other way to escape.

My pain is well managed. All I had to do was take two pills to quiet the pain down and then drift off to sleep. I took the pills and waited for the throbbing to stop. Within an hour, it did but my brain didn’t. I was still pissed and suicidal that I just wanted to give up. I went over the plan I had been thinking about the past few months, wondering if it would work or not. A doctor friend told me it would be painful but I knew that. I also know that it would be at least 2-6 hours for the pills to work. That is a lot of time.

My friend understands about the chronic pain that I have because she also suffers from it as well. Unfortunately, she doesn’t have adequate pain meds like I do. I am not planning on ending my life with my pain meds. Far from it. If the area that I wanted to hang myself wasn’t fenced off, I would go there and do the deed. But it’s fenced off and I am not a good climber.

It doesn’t matter what kind of pain you are in, physical or mental. It still makes you want to end your life. Unfortunately, I have both so I am in a pickle. I have the raw end of the deal. I write about my suffering because I hope that it will help someone. I am not feeling hopeless. Just disgusted that I have to rely on pills every single day to give me relief from my pain, either it be my pain meds or my psych meds. Recently, I have been psychotic and that opened up a big kettle of worms. I thought I would have to go back to the hospital but my mother became sick and needed care so I couldn’t go. I had to be treated as an outpatient and take my care more seriously because my mother needed me.

I know the devastation I will bring to my family should I die, not only my family but to those around me. I talk about taking my life on this blog a lot because it helps to write about it. Doesn’t make me feel less suicidal but it helps with the feelings of not being able to do anything about it. Last night I was close to killing myself and if I had a clear plan, I probably wouldn’t be writing this right now. I don’t know if another hospitalization is in my future. I have grown hopeless about that kind of treatment because there is no treatment in the hospital anymore. The mental health professionals and insurance companies just think that a few days in a locked ward is enough to reset your thinking and make you think you have a life worth living. It’s a big crock. For some it is helpful but for those with chronic illness like me, unless you get treatment, actual therapy, it is just a waste of time.

I am not saying I have the answers to the mental health system because it is different in every state, and that is not the purpose of this blog post. But talking about suicide is similar to everyone who experiences it. People are literally dying because they don’t want to be in pain anymore. They don’t want the stigma that means having to take a pill to control that pain is causing them. Sometimes the stigma is greater than the treatment of the pain. Every day I wonder if I am an addict and will my meds be taken away from me because my pain is controlled with meds. I know that if any doctor takes these pain meds away from me, they might as well be signing my death certificate.

You can say that I can’t have it both ways but I am so tired of not having a life because of pain. I can’t walk like I used to. Just walking a few blocks brings me horrible pain. Last night I washed dishes and I think that is what set off my ankle pain. For the ten minutes it took me to wash four dishes and two cups. I can’t drive long distances because my ankle will act up on me. I never know what sets off my pain. And the docs aren’t sure what is causing my pain. Some kind of pain syndrome but they are not sure what. My quality of life sucks because I can’t go to family functions and things because my pain limits me. I test the boundaries every day and I am rewarded with pain. Then add mental illness on top of that and it’s not a pretty picture. Sure I was depressed and suicidal BEFORE I had chronic pain. But I also was able to hold down two jobs that I somewhat enjoyed.

I am not trying to boo-hoo my life. I just hate the way I live and I just don’t want to live anymore. It’s too painful, both physically and mentally.