Category: suicide attempt

crying wolf

by Midnight Demon, posted in suicide attempt

I feel like my suicidality at this point is a crying wolf phrase. No one seems to believe me when I tell them how much I am hurting but I do not utter the words Suicidal to them for fear of the cops showing up at my door. Instead I bitch on facebook on how much I am hurting and my melancholy is great and no one, not one of my 700 friends responds to it. So I found out tonight that my love wants to grow old with someone else and I am hurting really bad. I wrote my therapist a detailed letter saying that I want to overdose and gave her details of the plans. I kind of feel now that these words I wrote are like the diary of Dostoevsky. He writes in tangents and so do I…

I have written a detailed plan of my demise and yet cannot fathom my therapist doing anything about it when she does read it. I have sent her texts stating that I am at a very vulnerable state but it is after hours and she is off tomorrow so I might not get a response till Monday. Will it be too late by then? Should I call someone to talk to and say what….Wolf is at my door trying to kill me again? I have said this many times yet no one takes me seriously. Why should they now? I am so full of pain that I am not sure what to do. There are numbers I can call but who wants to speak with a stranger. There are friends I can call but who wants to bother them and cause them worry. So I sit in my room with my music reminding me of my pain and listen and try and think of something useful to write because otherwise I might act on my thoughts…

old blog post

by Midnight Demon, posted in suicide attempt

Jan 25,2011

I woke up this morning and my mood was absolutely rock bottom. It took forever for me to wake up. I felt like I was walking in mud and by the time I actually made it out the door for therapy, I was exhausted.  So I had this session with a crazy therapist that wants me to live despite feeling like an asswipe.  I don’t know really what happened today. We were sitting there talking and I was overwhelmed with all that I have to do for my research job and then go into my clinical job and I just felt the intense urge to die and told her so. She says no which pissed me off more and I told her I wasn’t going to see her again. The exhaustion I have been feeling the past three weeks, overwhelmed as I was sitting there pondering what to do.  Should I call out knowing that my supervisors are going to say something as this is the 3rd time I have called out on a Monday or go in and tread the mud and anguish of a 4 hour shift.  I chose to call out and went home.   Didn’t do a thing but couldn’t really sleep as I felt guilty about not working. Then to make matters worse, my boss called me around 5:30pm for something I do not know about.  I totally forgot about the lab meeting this morning but getting up early is always hard for me, especially when I work till midnight and stay up till about 2 am to get to sleep, if I can.

I also tried to call my friend in South Africa as he is having a difficult time right now with his nerve injury. He is the bravest man I know who has a good heart.  He is from Scotland and grew up in England. I love his accent though sometimes it is difficult to understand when he talks fast (sorry Guy). I was finally able to reach him and text him to let him know I am there for him.  For some reason whenever I am in this hell of psychache, reaching out to someone helps ease the pain. I know my friend is worried sick about his future. I had helped him years ago through a crisis and he is grateful that I was able to help him. He calls me his therapist, which I get freaked out about because I am not licensed or trained. I just have enough experience with this bullshit to get to the heart of the matter without talking a lot of jargon.  I have always like the word jargon…it makes things sound more complicated than it is yet that is the true meaning of the word.

Anyways, it’s 1:30 am now and my meds still have not knocked me out. I hope I am not going through cycling, where I am hypomanic and then depressed and then hypomanic and then crash deeper into depression. That will fricken kill me.

Tomorrow I really don’t know what I am going to do. I might take another off day but I don’t really know that I can.I just want to get these projects done yet I am so fricken overwhelmed by them it freaks me out and I can’t prioritized, focus, or get the motivation to do what I have to do. I am stuck in limbo with my feet in cement trying to walk and talk and appear all happy to others because if anyone knew just how suicidal I truly am, they most likely would laugh or not take me seriously.  All the more reason why I should make an attempt. I just want to get it out of my system. If it works then fine, my worries are over but if not, then I am truly a failure.

One of the members of the support group that I have talk today about how suicide wrecks families. But would the feelings be the same if the sufferer were dying of cancer? Would you want that person to continue suffering just so YOU don’t have to because they are going to die?  People with serious painful depressions don’t have the luxury of their own bodies to say ok heart muscles, I have had enough stop working. Or to tell the brain stem to stop the lungs working because they have had enough pain, anguish, and despair to keep forcing air into their lungs when all they want is to stop it.  You want to know why a person kills themselves, I’ll tell you, it is because they are in so much friggen mental pain, anguish, shame, guilt, despair, and agony that they just cannot go on anymore. Maybe someone left them, maybe they lost their job and so they are losing their house. Or maybe things appear to be going well in their lives but it is all built around the façade that if they truly knew what was going on in their heads, they would be locked up.  President Lincoln was a good example of this. Most of his closest friends, which were few, knew that he had a darkness that he couldn’t control. In one of the books I read, it said that he often thought of hanging himself on a tree outside the white house because the war was going to badly, his Union was dissipating into nothing and people were dying because of the separation.  Yet he didn’t go through with it. But, unfortunately or maybe fortunately, John Wilkes Booth was able to end his life.  That was tragic, but would it have been more tragic to see a man suffer all his life with this illness and see no possible end to it. To be forced to live against one’s will just so other people not feel sad at their death??  Death is a part of life. It might come natural, tragic, or self inflicted.  Every time I hear about a suicide, I feel a little but happy for that person because I KNOW they are no longer in pain. They are free.

Another page turned

by Midnight Demon, posted in suicide attempt

I have been thinking what to call my next blog and what to write but nothing has been coming so decided to just write whatever comes to mind. I’m still in a mini mental health war with my primary over my pain medications. I am really steamed for if I was to try and take my life with them I would have done so before now. I don’t know aside from me having a husband what the discharge summary says about my last admission but it appears to have rattled my pcp, whom I have known for years, who has been prescribing me my meds for years. But now that I’m not working, he is worried and for no good reason. I have told him that if I plan on taking my life it will be via asphixiation (suffocating) myself with either a rope around my neck or a plastic bag over my head. I am done with the uncertainty of trying to overdose on pills as many have stated, it is difficult to kill the human body. I have overdosed quite a few times and though unpleasant, the result is that I am still alive. So I go through his motions of complicity but after one more time of the complicity I will tell him this is stupid…going to him every 2 wks is not helping me nor is it helping him other than getting to know me more often. I don’t know…maybe the rules changed while I was inpatient and every mental health patient who has chronic pain has to go through this ordeal to be “safe” but if that were the case why hasn’t my therapist or psychiatrist dropped him a note saying THEY are concerned and that I should be closely monitored. I think I will have my therapist talk to him and see if there can be an understanding. Yes I love my doc. Yes I need my meds but being harrassed over them because I have mental illness and suicidal tendencies is just not fair. If I had expressed to my doc that I am not safe that would be a different matter. As it is, I’m more afraid of the tylenol content than I am of the narcotic!!! And besides, if I was going to overdose, i’d just as simply take the biggest bottle of tylenol at walgreens or Target to kill myself and my liver.
So my frustration is high because I’m dealing with a professional that is clueless on mental illness. If I didn’t need these drugs I would just say fuck you, you just signed my death certificate and walk away from him but he is still giving me what I need but at a very costly price when I have no income for the co pay or the 2 wk supply of meds…

Ankle Chronicles

by Midnight Demon, posted in suicide attempt

Normally we think of ankle biters as little kids that cling to your legs as you go walking around the house. No, the one that I am talking about is something that is more painful than that. It is called nerve pain that keeps you up for hours on end. It is this physical, stabbing, crushing, jolting pain that tears at my ankle and foot each night. Sadly the only cure for it is rest as the reason for it is because of repetitive movement of my ankle. Yes, walking, standing, going upstairs is a torture for me. It started more than a year ago. I think it started with a simple sprain ankle but with cauda equina syndrome, it is anything but simple. I slipped on the ice walking to work on an icy January morning and a month later, I was in excruciating pain that made me think of suicide nearly every day. I don’t remember too much but I shudder every time I think of being in pain that was constant. I was in pain twenty-four hours a day. Boots, braces, and splints didn’t help. The only thing that did was narcotic medication. Without these pills you might as well write my death certificate.
Sometimes ice can help and it is the AHHHH feeling like I didn’t realize it was “hot” and the ice cools it down, making it feel really good. Today I did too much walking and I am hurting really bad as standing is really causing me problems. I have gone up and down the stairs numerous times since coming home at 3 o’clock and probably will have to go down another few more times as I know I will need to empty my bladder. My bedroom is on the top floor while the bathroom is on the second. Kind of makes things difficult when you have a disability. If I had the money I would invest in the chair lifter stair thing you see advertised on TV for old people. I realize I am no longer young even though I am only in my mid thirties. I think being in pain ages you. I know that I didn’t feel old until all this pain started happening and it is a chronic reminder that I am no longer a healthy person.
So this ankle, my left, which we will call Lefty, is the current source of my discomfort more than my aching back at times and is the reason why I stated above that I need pain medications. Every test that has been done from Xrays to MRI’s have been negative for anything physically wrong with it, except for the swelling which no doctor can explain. They know that I have inflammation as what else would cause this swelling/edema. Yet despite taking an anti-inflammatory, a pretty strong one (ketoprofen), the swelling remains and does not go down unless I ice and elevate it. It sucks being cooped up all the time because only when I am off it do I get relief.