Category: suicide attempt

Left to my Own Devices

by Midnight Demon, posted in Bipolar Disorder, blogging, chronic physical pain, depression, mood disorders, suicide, suicide attempt

I am having a late coffee that I hope will keep me up the next few hours. I have been so tired all day that I have been sleeping it away, without medication of any sort! My pain has been minimal but it’s so hot in the house that I rarely leave my room except to eat and use the facilities. Even though I have had coffee, I feel like I can go back to sleep. I haven’t had dinner yet. The coffee is killing whatever hunger pains I may have. So it might be a late dinner tonight. I now have my undivided attention to this blog because I am not expecting my mother to call me. Unless Twitter distracts me…

I decided to type a letter to my therapist today rather than write it. I told her of my day, similar to the first paragraph and also about other things. I had a page written before I knew it. I wish I could write something for my book as fast. I have been going back and forth with editing for my book. I have to enter the edits into the word doc. It’s always a pain because I usually have to use the search button to find the place I am looking for. I have decided the last three blogs are not going into the book. It doesn’t fit with what I am writing, not unless I copy and paste things. I might do that. Then I can go back to writing, least that is what I am hoping. But it doesn’t happen on demand. I think I am better off writing at night because my mood is darker then than during the day. I have three nights before baseball returns. Sox will be on the west coast so the games won’t be until after 2200 east coast time. I hate the west coast games because it just further disrupts my sleeping. I usually can’t sleep right away after the game ends around 0100. And I am up till at least 0300. This is the first time that I am having coffee at like four in the afternoon so I might be up till three anyways.

I miss my therapist, even though it’s only been a week since we last talked. Another week and a half before I talk with her again. I don’t know if she will be in Hawaii the whole time or not. I do hope she has fun, even though she is dreading the trip. I am dreading seeing my pdoc on Friday. I don’t know what kind of mood I will be in. I know I won’t be catching the 10 o’clock bus again. That was too early. I was supposed to catch the 1053 bus but my brain was foggy when I woke up and thought it was the 953 bus I needed to get. There is no 953 bus! I really don’t want to see her. But I am afraid that if I don’t, she will be worried. Hardest thing about being suicidal is trusting a psychiatrist with your thoughts. You always have the fear of being hospitalized against your will once it has been done to you. I have had it happen more than once in my lifetime. I have had more hospitalizations than I can count. In fact, I have lost track of how many I have had. More than 30 by now, at least. It doesn’t make talking about suicide any easier. But my psychiatrist is and has been open to talking about it. She knows me better than anyone. We have worked together for more than twenty years. We have built up a trust that is hard to shake. Most people go through psychiatrists like they were going out of style. I just have had one my whole therapeutic life. Therapists are a different story. I have had more than I care to share. I never thought I would find someone stable in the therapy business. I was seeing on every year for the first 11 years. Now here it is 14 years later and I have the same one. Both of my treaters trust me more than anyone that deals with suicide. I don’t know if it is because they know I won’t go through with my plans or they seem to intervene before it gets too late. I still feel dejected and depressed that I didn’t go through with my plans. If you can’t keep a promise to yourself, what good is making promises? Yet I have also promised these people that if I were in dire straits, I would reach out to them. They also know that I bring myself in when I need to. That has changed because the hospital, for various reasons, is no longer my safe haven it once was. Don’t get me wrong, people need these places for safety. But I used to go there for care that I needed and I no longer get it. It’s just talk for a few minutes and then a few days later, you are out whether you like it or not. I had to fight to stay in last time and it was a real struggle. I also knew that if I was out when I heard about Robin Williams, I would not be talking to you right now. His loss was so devastating to me, as it was to millions of people. But I was in a dark place, darker than I had ever been and if I wasn’t in the hospital, I dread to think what might have happened. Both of my treaters were on vacation at the time so I would be left to my own devices.

I haven’t heard from my writing partner and I have a feeling that those emails are going to be far and in between. She has been posting on various social media so I know she is writing. She has a new book that she just finished before her wedding and is promoting it. I need ways to promote my book because I don’t think it is going to sell very well unless I come up with some good marketing strategies. Problem is, I am not a marketing person! I don’t have the first clue how to sell something. I just hope that Facebook and Twitter works their magic and my book sells. I do belong to some author groups on FB but they mostly advertise romance/erotic novels, which is not my genre. I actually have no idea what my genre is, other than fiction, maybe. But it’s based on my delusions, which is in real life so not sure what category to put my book in.

Fall Apart

by Midnight Demon, posted in Bipolar Disorder, blogging, chronic physical pain, depression, mood disorders, suicide, suicide attempt

Fall Apart

I printed off some stuff for my therapist. It’s only been a few days that she has been gone, but I already miss her. I am really bored and can’t sleep. I keep thinking about how she will be devastated if I were to harm myself while she is gone. It’s holding me back but I don’t know for how long. Things are really tough for me right now.

I feel like I am falling apart. It’s killing me knowing that I can’t end my life this week, or possibly, ever. I am too much of a coward. I spent the night following the All Star Game on Twitter. It didn’t ease my ache. It’s after midnight now and I can’t help thinking about taking my life. I know that I should just go to bed but the thoughts keep swirling like a hurricane. I had a bad headache earlier this evening, but it seems to have dissipated. I took some Advil and it went away. I wish it took the heartache away, too. AL won so they will have home field advantage.

I had posted something about “stopping the use of committed suicide” on my blog yesterday. It was a successful reblog. My cousin read the article and she was grateful as her brother died by suicide in 1998. I didn’t know this. I feel bad for her. I see her soon, I hope. She invited me to a party in August.

I am emerged in suicide tonight. I can’t help thinking about it. But it’s getting late and I should be sleeping instead of falling apart. I hate my life and what it has become. I am tired of being in pain all the time. I am tired of fighting my deepest, darkest wishes. I just wish to be gone. There is no hope for me here. I am a useless SOB.

I don’t know what to do with myself. I feel like I am going nuts. All I can think about is death and dying. I really want to die. I wouldn’t mind it if a bus ran me over right now. Though it will be strange for a bus to run me over while I am in my room. Maybe tomorrow it can happen. Or should I say, later today. I just know I don’t want to be here anymore. I am too tired to go on living this way. It’s horrible to be in pain like this and not have a remedy to ease the heartache. I don’t even know what is causing me this pain. It just came on so suddenly and took my breath away. I hate when this happens and there is nothing I can do but listen to music and take an Ativan and hope for sleep. I am so exhausted and I didn’t do anything today to make me exhausted like I am. It’s like I pulled hard labor but I didn’t. Most I did was walk a few blocks to pick up my niece. It was like walking one big block from home to school and back. I usually don’t walk that far because it hurts my ankle. But the weather was really warm and it wore me out walking. I am not even 40 yet and I get so tired so easily. It’s pathetic. I wish my plan were on for Friday. I would end my life then and it would finally be over with. I wouldn’t wake up anymore. I just pass out and die. I won’t say how I will die. I just hope that I do die soon. I pray for death just like those slaves on the plantations that were treated cruelly. But I doubt it. I have a long genes in my family. Hell, my father is 83 and his sister is 91. I don’t want to live that long. I think 39 is a ripe old age.

Blog Post 1206

by Midnight Demon, posted in Bipolar Disorder, blogging, chronic physical pain, depression, suicide attempt

Blog Post 1206

I slept most of the day today. I couldn’t help it. I was just exhausted. Only time that I had woke up was to relieve my bladder. The first time I woke up, which was around 2300 last night, I had a terrible dream that I killed a chicken and there were signs saying that I should attempt suicide. It was a dream that kept on getting worse and worse until I woke up.

I reblogged a post about suicide and the words you should used. “Committed” is a no no. The person that DIED by suicide hasn’t “committed” a crime in his/her death. I wish people would stop saying it, like the author of the story says.

I got a friend that had a pet chicken and the it died today, suddenly. There was no warning about it. Just up and died. My friend is devastated. I hope my dream didn’t influence the death of this little guy. I already feel awful for having the dream. Then a high school friend of mine dreamt she was fishing and caught a chicken. Don’t know what this means. Just totally fucking weird if you ask me.

My therapist is somewhere on the west coast right now. I have texted her safe travels. She will be going to Hawaii for her mother’s and mother in law’s birthday celebration. I hope the weather is nice for them. She said she will be mailing me a postcard, but it will be ok if I don’t get one. I realized yesterday that she was going to be gone the same week as the All Star Game break. So I have no therapy at all this week. Baseball was my therapy and there are no games until Friday. I really don’t know what I am going to do with my days and evenings totally free. I have a bunch of stuff to read but I can only do reading in spurts. Usually it’s a chapter or two at a time. I still am trying to finish “Uncle Tom’s Cabin”. It’s hard because the writer write how cruel we were to the African-Americans. Not only did they break up families, they also beat them, sometimes to their death. It’s a horrible read but something I think every American should read.

My psychologist friend has stopped his barrage of tweets on the Hoffman report on the APA’s involvement in the CIA’s torture of detainees. He is back at the silly pictures of his dog and other stuff. I am grateful. I like what he has to say, most of the time, but then he gets into a rampage and it’s hard to follow.

I am still sleepy so I might try and take another nap before taking my night time meds. Or I might read. I don’t really feel like doing anything. I just am so tired. I hate feeling this way, of not wanting to do anything. But I haven’t had too many down days. They are too far and in between.

I am nervous about Friday. I see my psychiatrist then. I really don’t want to see her but she insisted on the meeting. She doesn’t care how I feel that day. I am to see her anyways. I guess it will be good to see her as I won’t be talking to anyone this week other than my family. And even then it’s just about things around the house and so forth. I am kind of scared that my mother is going to freak out over the electric bill when it comes in because I have been using the AC a lot. But I cannot tolerate heat, at all! It drives me crazy and that is the last thing you need when you are already feeling suicidal. I have given her more money to put towards the electric bill to compensate, I just hope it’s enough.

The dream that I had this morning was the first dream that I have had in a very long time. I hardly remember my dreams but this one I did. I will be writing to my therapist about it. I don’t know why I was dreaming about signs saying I should “attempt suicide”. And the lettering on all the signs were purple. I guess a part of me is still wanting to try and attempt. In the dream, I was deeply frustrated. I kept screaming or grunting. And then these chickens came out of no where. I stepped on one and killed it, not on purpose. It was hard not to because there were suddenly under my feet. It was very strange and haunting.

Please Stop Saying “Committed” Suicide

by Midnight Demon, posted in suicide attempt

Sharing this because it needs to stop! Suicide is not a crime.