Category Archives: suicidality

Still emotional, thanks gender dysphoria

My pcp is still a dickhead. I asked him if he would fill my female hormones and his nurse said sure what is it. I answered now I have to see the repro endo doc. He doesn’t want to do it. Fucking asshole. I’m still a wreck from yesterday and hate, absolutely HATE having to still take these hormones because my Testosterone therapy got pushed back because of him. Almost a year now he has been dicking me around, one thing after another. I am so sick of it. Am I supposed to just see him for cough and colds? It is looking that way. I don’t need a referral for my insurance so if I want to see a specialist, I am just going to. No point in seeing him first. Just a waste of time I could use to make an appt with the specialist.

Saw the pain program doc today. He is okay. Can’t comment more as all he did was repeat my medical history and type really fast. He wants me to continue to see my pain doc and I told him I might not as he is reluctant to increase my meds to give me some quality of life. How I am supposed to work in this program with horrendous pain, I have no clue. I also need to get a PT eval for my thigh as the program PT is 2 months away. I can’t wait that long. I am going to email my current PT and see what she says but I don’t think I can see two PTs at once. So fucking frustrating.

I had to make a pit stop to the Square because the bus that would take me home was longer than the bus to the square. I don’t care, though my sprain ankle is hurting. I didn’t wear the brace because I didn’t want to be bothered taking off two braces. I’m wearing 2 different sneaks and don’t fucking care.

I had a snickers latte today because I need it goddamn it!! Also had something to eat because of the emotional stuff. I feel better now. I need some protein bars. Getting irrational when I don’t eat is getting more frequent. Hope my diabetes test comes back within normal limits. My psych ordered it but I haven’t had a chance to get it drawn yet. Might get it done tomorrow if I am not up at the crack of dawn. My therapist is back from vaca. I see him tomorrow and I can’t wait. Got a lot to talk about.

My mother needed some things today so as I am out, I got to get them for her. I am going by that way so no big deal. I will get some protein bars with her cash as I am broke until tomorrow.

When i see my psych next i am going to ask her if i can go back to the LGBT clinic for T therapy. I just hope i don’t have to start the whole process over. It will send me over the fucking edge.

CRPS Unpredictability

About 45 minutes ago, I have no idea what I did. I was in my normal fetal position with my feet on top of one another. I moved my bad CRPS foot into the curve of my good ankle and it felt like I was trying to snap it in half. I cried. I screamed OW. No one would hear me. My mother was knocked out. I tried to remain still but that just made the pain worse. I had to sit up and take a BT med. Carefully I maneuvered my feet so I could turn to sit up. Pain was all over my ankle and foot. I didn’t want to live anymore. What would be the point? More pain?

I posted on social media that I wanted to blog but I couldn’t find the words. All I could think to say was I am in pain. I posted why can’t I end it? Why? A few friends responded. I got a phone call from my cousin in Texas. I didn’t answer. I didn’t want to talk. I can’t talk when I am like this. My mind is in the gutter and no one understands. No one gets this pain because they don’t feel it every day like I do.

I posted to my CRPS group. Some of them get it. Some have been where I am. Rain is the only thing stopping me from ending it right now. I don’t care. I am reserving some emergency cash for when I feel like this again and the weather is better. Maybe i won’t go through with it.

I got a lot going on the next few weeks. Don’t know how but I’ve booked an appt nearly every day the last week in August. That is going to kill me and I’ll have to cancel some of those appts.

The thing that bothers me is that aside from doing a few dishes and showering, that is all I did today. I’ve rested most of the day. So why the fuck am I in pain now?? I had put on a sock on the offending limb because it got cold. Now it is hot. I am scared that taking it off is going to cause me more pain. But the sock is irritating me so needs to come off. Fucker

One More Light

One More Light

****expressions of suicide in this blog are just that. I am blowing off steam, expressing myself because keeping it in hurts too much****

This song by Linkin Park recently won an award for something I cannot remember. I saw it a couple of days ago. I am not surprised as when I first heard it, I knew it would be the perfect song for suicide prevention. Yet somehow, with my upcoming demise, I cannot help but think of this song.

I was talking to a friend of mine who I told a few months ago that I had made the decision to end my life in a few months. I told her yesterday when I would do it. She asked if everything had been planned like we talked about. I realized I didn’t have all my ducks in a row. Hell, I still haven’t written my letters. I am finding it hard to say goodbye to those I love dearly. People always think that suicide is an impulsive act. That is kind of horseshit to those that suffer from it chronically. There is usually a lot of planning involved. Even Chester had a smile on his face and looked happy in the days before he ended his life. I nor anyone else will know what was going through his mind that lead him to this decision.

Pain o’clock started a little while ago. I am so fricken tired of hurting. I know that no medicine or treatment will bring me pain free. Even if I go through the pain program and their tasks, I will still have pain. I will just manage it better, which I guess it is better than what I am doing now. Even though I am on better pain meds to manage my pain, I am still having flares. I really think that if I was on a higher dose of meds, just 15 milligrams, I wouldn’t have so many flares per week. But according to my psychiatrist, they (pain docs) won’t do that. I have had enough. She saw me yesterday because she was worried about me after I sent her a few emails about how bad the pain was and how my suicidality was increased. I am tired of fighting the supposed experts. It is shit when they don’t fucking listen to the patient. Like what was the point of me seeing her if she wasn’t going to do anything? I am done, so fucking done.

I am sorry to my friend and family about ending my life in the next few weeks. I tried really hard to manage my pain better but they fucked me over. My light needs to be extinguished. I can’t go on like this anymore. I don’t have a fucking life. I can’t even fucking read a book for fun anymore or go to Starbucks to write in my journal about mundane things without pain. It is only going to therapy or medical appointments these days. Often I leave an hour or two early so I do have time to cope with travel and write because as you can see, there are more than a few days between entries. Even my night journal doesn’t have that many entries. I should be on my new journal by now as I am so close to the last few pages but I am not because I don’t fucking care. I plan my death. I rather do that. That gives me hope that I can escape from this hell.

I am so very sorry for hurting any and everyone involved in my life. I know there are many people that will be hurt that that I am gone. If I could put a band-aid on your hearts I would. I don’t blame anyone. This isn’t anyone’s fault. I have postponed this long enough. I was supposed to die in June and here it is July. I wish I had the time to analyze this song. It is such a beautiful song with so many meanings.

Bad flare ruined my day

I had another bad pain night. I had to leave the house early 1) to avoid the high heat and 2) to get my scripts. When my med alarm went off, I wanted to throw my phone. I honestly didn’t want to get up. I used the bathroom after taking my meds and brushed my teeth. I didn’t feel like shaving my head so went to the kitchen. I asked my mother if she needed anything mailed or bought while I was out. She said no.

I got dressed and then went back to the kitchen to grab my cup. Soon as I got to the stairs, my mother called me back asking me to mail something. Really?? By the time I got my bag squared and my sneakers on, I missed the fricken bus. It had pulled up when I was about 20 feet away. I wasn’t going to run. I knew another one was coming and it did.

I listened to my music. I got to Starbucks and ordered my espresso and a sandwich. I then wanted something sweet so got a cookie. Wrote in my journal for a bit and then went into town. The trains were running okay. I got my scripts and I checked it before leaving. I also got some water as I was really thirsty. The heat had climbed up.

I decided to get my tickets to see my friend south of Boston. So I went further into Boston. The machine I usually get my tickets wasn’t accepting cash so had to go to the desk. There wasn’t a line. I showed my disability pass and got the tickets. I had to show my pass in order to get the half fare.

Went back to the trains and was about to get on an elevator when an older woman stopped me. She wanted to know where the train to New York was. I told her not here and told her where to go. I don’t think she understood. The place is confusing with all the different turnstiles and entrances/exits. I got on the elevator and went on my way. By the time I got back to the Square, I didn’t have to wait long for the bus. I went to the pharmacy and filled my meds.

I got home and it was really hot in the house. I was hungry but too hot to eat anything right then. I went to my room to cool off. When I felt better, I went to the kitchen and finished off the Mexican food from yesterday. It was so good.

Went back to my room. I stayed on my bed trying to decide what to do. I was wicked tired and wanted a nap. I played with my phone and relaxed on my bed. Holy fucking hell. Next minute my ankle just explodes. I am crying with severe pain. I didn’t even move my foot/ankle!! That was the weird part!! I was half lying down so had to remain still before attempting to move. Pain wasn’t resolving so I risked moving to take a breakthrough med. I was paralyzed in pain. I really wanted to nap but had no idea how I was going to move my body to my right side to sleep. I moved my leg and turned my body without more pain. Then my mother called asking me if I wanted raviolis for dinner. Fucking A. Seriously?? My phone was blowing up but I didn’t check it. It was either the T or Twitter and I needed a nap. Thankfully I slept for about an hour and a half when my mother called again. I didn’t answer it. I couldn’t move. I was in pain all over. Just breathing hurt.

The pain continued and still hasn’t let up. It is around a 10. Tomorrow will have to be shit day as I haven’t shit in a few days. I’ll be taking laxatives and fiber pills until I go. Just hope it doesn’t cause colon blow. Hope I can sleep tonight. Sox won their 8th game in a row. It was a good distraction until I stood up to turn the radio off. Now I’m in hell.

Foot is driving me nutso!!

I’ve been trying to sleep since 2100. My mother wasn’t up in her room yet. I called to see if she was ok as with the AC on, I can’t hear things. She was okay. Her sugars had stabilized.

I got a blog that I read and wished I didn’t. It was about the lesbian protests or something like that in London during the Pride parade. What gets me is that anytime transgender is mentioned, it is almost always having to do with transwomen. I know I cannot be the only transman in the world. I know one came out in the Navy. I know there is another fellow in Oregon. We talk occasionally. We can’t be the only ones out there. So why isn’t it out there?? I just feel alone and invisible.

Then I started talking about suicide and someone tried guilt tripping me. I call it what it is and they say it is on me. Really? I will be fucking dead. How will I know what will happen to my family?? Am I supposed to be a ghost or something? Pissed me off.

My foot felt like it was in a pressure cooker. Then it felt like it was being crushed. Now my big toe is hurting big time. I call uncle, except I don’t think it works. I found my very last breakthrough med. Tomorrow I got to call and have them change the order and make sure the count is so I can take more than 1 a day. Otherwise the pharmacy won’t fill it and I’ll chop my fucking ankle off.

I will need a shower tomorrow. I hate showering. I need to shave my head to keep it bald. Also need to do a touch up of shaving because I missed some spots. My foot isn’t going to be happy. Then I got PT. Oh joy. Yes the curative physical therapy to increase mobility. This is interesting as I haven’t moved my damned ankle in 17 fucking years. It is a fucking joke. Oh and the damn pain clinic refuses to use CRPS. I have left ankle/foot pain. Can I bring a bat to my next appt and clobber them over the head?? Not to kill them, just to knock some sense in them or make them read my damn medical record that says why I need prescription pain medication. Fucking assholes.

I am done trying to say to them what I need. I have a better chance of winning the lottery. My foot is screaming. It is too late for gaba. I need to be up early enough to call the assholes and hope it doesn’t take a week to change the order. I can’t believe I was stupid and didn’t read it before I left. Ugh. Live and learn I guess.

Maybe 300 mg of gaba to calm some of it down. My PT is going to be unhappy with me. I’ve only done home exercises about 3 times. I couldn’t do it the 1st two days after our last session because my thigh hurt too much. Thursday I did it. Friday I was off to asshole’s office. Saturday I slept all day. Today I was in a fuck it mood.ok so what is that just one time? Oops I can’t count. We’ll just say 3 times. I probably am not going to see her anymore anyway. I really don’t want to. I think it is pointless to see her for my ankle/foot. I saw her before and I was in too much pain. And without breakthrough meds, forget it. I am tired of working through the pain.

I have no life. Just doc appts. I can’t remember a day I went to the Square just for fun, to have my espresso and write. Hasn’t happened in so long. Maybe February when I was trying to write the story in my head. It is gone now. Why bother writing it when I am going to die soon?

Part of me is trying to hang around. But with every painful flare, it gets less and less. Just do it runs through my head. Someday soon. I hope. Just do it…