Category: suicide attempt

physical pain and suicide

by Midnight Demon, posted in cauda equina syndrome, CES, Chronic pain, chronic physical pain, mood disorders, physical pain, suicide, suicide attempt

Physical pain and suicide

 

Past two weeks I have had two episodes of really bad physical pain that had me in tears and wanting to end my life. I didn’t do anything to spark this pain, such as dropping a brick on my foot or stubbing my toe. The pain went deeper than that. And despite taking pain medication, I still was in agony. People think that all you have to do is take a pill to make pain go away and most times it works. But what do you do when you have a condition that doesn’t allow for that?

I have what is known as Complex Regional Pain Syndrome, CRPS for short, in my left foot. I got it because of another long name diagnosis called Cauda Equina Syndrome, CES for short. I got this former condition as a result of a ruptured disc when I was twenty-five. I didn’t know that it would result in the CRPS until now. Since I was twenty-five, I never learned how to walk correctly and pulled muscles that were not meant for walking. Because of this overuse, I developed CRPS after eleven years of dealing with CES. I have been suffering with CRPS for the past 2 years and it sucks. Every pain flare up feels like it is going to last forever. I am on disability because I can no longer work as a lab assistant. I can’t walk long distances, or stand too long on my feet, which working in the lab you do all the time. You are constantly getting up and down going to the different areas of the lab for the different testing that we do.

The pain started after I sprained my ankle on some ice in the winter of 2011. I went to several different doctors but no one could tell me what was wrong. All the x-rays, MRI’s, and physical condition of my ankle were normal except for some minor swelling near my peroneous muscles and tendons. It is when these get really swollen that I am in agony. As I am typing this, my foot feels really cold, like it is soaking in ice water. But to the touch, it is warm. I have a sock on it to prevent it from cramping. I have to protect my foot at all times from the cold to prevent cramps that are eye popping and then my foot becomes really sore. I don’t have any physical discoloration like typical CRPS. I think if I did I would have an easier diagnosis.

This pain drives me to suicidal crises every single time it flares up. The last time this happened was last week. I didn’t do anything, but I really wanted to die. I am almost out of my pain pills as I have been gobbling them up like candy to try and take control of my pain. I see my PCP next week to get something for flare ups. If he doesn’t do anything for me then I am afraid that things do not look good for me, at least mentally. I wrote a letter to my psychiatrist when I had this pain flare up. She understands the only time lately I become suicidal is when my physical pain becomes unbearable. And my pain is never during normal business hours. It is during the after hours, wee hours of the morning. I can be up all night because of pain. And no matter what I take, once it starts it seems never ending until exhaustion comes into play and I get some relief. Only then do I become a “different person mentally.” The events of the night before seem remote, like they happened to someone else. I guess you can say I dissociate from the pain and what is killing me.

Pain flare ups are hard to predict. Sometimes they come up when I do too much. Making cookies one time caused a flare up. Washing dishes will cause another. Standing more than a half hour for the bus will cause another. I never know what to do when I feel the pain coming on. My first instinct is to pop a pill and try and relax. After a bit I will take a muscle relaxer to prevent anxiety and spasms/cramps. Sometimes this will work, sometimes it won’t. It’s when it won’t that the suicidal self goes into play and all I can think about is death. I often play my fantasy of what the doctor will say if he doesn’t give me pain medication. That truly terrifies me. I often come up with me telling him to sign my death certificate, because that is what will happen. I can’t live with this level of pain every day. Right now it is not so bad. I have restarted another mood stabilizer and it seems to be helping but I still feel I need a longer acting medication that I can use for flare ups and to get me to sleep better. Because without the benefit of sleep, nothing is worth a dime.

my attempt story

by Midnight Demon, posted in mental disorders, suicide, suicide attempt

I have struggled with suicidality for most of my life. I first thought of ending my life when I was eight years old. I don’t remember why but just felt like ending my life would solve my problems. I never grew out of feeling this way.

I took my first attempt when I was sixteen. I tried several more times after this. I was in a dark hole and wanted to get out of it. My therapist of ten months told me she was moving out of state and that we would have to end. I was shocked and hurt. I felt like there was no one who could help me anymore. I didn’t understand that this was her thing and had nothing to do with me. I just felt like I was a hopeless case and my mood went from black to the abyss. I had to do something to get over these feelings and came up with trying to kill myself with an overdose. I planned it out so that I wouldn’t be stopped. The one thing I didn’t account for was getting sick on the pills I took. After this, I felt so empty inside. I felt like a complete failure and that nothing was ever going to change. I was a loser and was always going to be one. My life as I knew it was over. I have never felt so hopeless than what I did this time of my life. But this feeling of worthlessness was to follow me a couple years later.

My first attempt was when I was a sophomore in high school. My next attempt was after I graduated from high school and was supposed to start college. I never started college. I ended up in the hospital for the next six months, in and out, for suicidal thinking and for an attempt. I again attempted to take my life with a drug known to kill at high doses. I decided to take a tenth of the dose to see if it would work this time. In my intoxicated state, I called my therapist at the time to tell her what I was doing. Little did I know it would lead to a two month hospitalization.

After my hospitalization, I started college at a new school. It wasn’t the one that I wanted to go to but I needed to do something with my time. Having time on your hands is a bad thing when you suffer from depression. I started school and met someone that accepted me for who I was. At this time I felt like I was splitting. I didn’t think I could be whole again. I felt like no one would like me because I had scars on my wrist and if they found out how mentally sick I was, I was going to be labeled crazy. But meeting my friend from Nebraska changed all that. We became the best of buds and he truly saved my life. By accepting all parts of me, he showed me that I could be loved and accepted and truly cared for.

weepiness and not enough sleep

by Midnight Demon, posted in cauda equina syndrome, CES, Chronic pain, mental disorders, mental illness, suicide, suicide attempt

Have not been myself the past few days. I have been wicked emotional since my TG piece got posted. I had 19 people read it so far and only 1 comment. No likes but it still is early. My first piece didn’t get anything until weeks later and then it was on fire.

I think I put a lot of myself out there and that is why I am still in a weepy state today. I just am emotionally drained from writing it as well as what my therapist says, I hide myself pretty well. I haven’t left my house. I have not showered in a few days time. I don’t think I have had the energy or inclination to brush my teeth. My eyes have been blurry today and I don’t see the head honcho of the neuro-opt until next week. It’s driving me crazy that I can’t see, even with my glasses on. My left eye seems to the trouble today. I just can’t focus.

Tomorrow I am supposed to go see my dad but I think I won’t. I don’t need his antics when I haven’t been having a good few days. He always makes me feel like a shitbag. But that is just the way he is.

I think the whole mess of not being able to work anymore and collecting disability has finally sunk in and I just have been so weepy. It’s hard because I have always been a good worker and now that I can’t it harder because I don’t have something to look forward to every day. I have my writing and blog but I don’t have the outside contact of being with someone or people contact that I normally get. And just when I think I can go back to work, I stand for longer than I should and have a pain attack that night. It’s really depressing me not having something to do except writing. I could clean my room but I don’t have anything or anywhere to put all my clothes. I don’t have bookcases for my books and other office style stuff. I can clean my office but I get so overwhelmed that I just end up not doing anything at all. My office has become one side of my bed, which probably has contributed to my sleep problems. A sleep doctor would have a coronary if he ever evaluated me. But then I always have had trouble sleeping. I had trouble getting to sleep, staying asleep, and going back to sleep. I know it doesn’t help that I have my laptop next to me in bed or my books or my journal or the 3 notebook/pads I have for writing my ideas down.

What ever is causing this weepy business, I hope it stops and I hope my pdoc calls me back. I want to get started on a new/old medicine to try and help me sleep better and stabilize my mood.

a little more about me

by Midnight Demon, posted in depression, mental disorders, mental illness, mood disorders, suicide, suicide attempt, transgender

I have been thinking about taking my life since I was eight years old. I was in a lot of pain for some reason or another and it never got taken cared of. Today I think that pain stems from the fact that I am really a male and not a female. I knew at a young age that I was different and back then, there was no expressing how I truly felt. I really think that if I got help sooner, this would have come to light sooner and I wouldn’t be in this pickle today about what to do with my transition.

I’ve know since I was in kindergarten that I was different than the other girls in my class because I wanted to play with “boy” toys rather than with dolls. I found playing dress up boring as all hell and mostly destroyed my dolls as my mother would tell you. I would always take my toys apart, wonder how they worked but could never put them back together again as I would end up destroying them.

I didn’t mind being different. This was a time where I still thought I was straight so I thought that if a boy liked me, he had to like me for who I was rather than what I am. I still feel this way today, though to a greater extent than a five year old’s thinking. I just know that I was a boy though I could not express what I was feeling. Everyone called me a girl and I just could not understand why. It wasn’t until I started my menarche that I inwardly defied being a “woman” and the feelings of wanting to die grew stronger. I knew there was no way in hell I could tell my parents I was a boy. My father downright refused to let me play sports because I was a “girl” and that hurt more than anything. I couldn’t play soccer but I could play basketball when I got to high school. I still don’t know why I had to go to the girls room and be on the girls team but I just figured I was following the rules of play and that was what I did. I hated starting arguments so I just played along. It wasn’t until I was in my early thirties that the realization of me growing into a boy was not going to happen. I think I am a boy for many reasons. I have hair in places most girls do not and I have facial hair. I love wearing men’s clothing, doing men things like watching sports, and my closest friends are men. I tend to think more of man things like how things work and other stuff that is being more than just being a tomboy. Terri Clark is a tomboy but she shows her feminine side at times. I don’t feel I have a feminine side and would hate it if I did. Things like make up and jewelry just don’t interest me. I think just having one pair of shoes is sufficient, I hate shopping, and I can’t stand hair products.

The depression gets bad and I am always hating myself. I hate my appearance. I hate my body. I hate me, I actually loath and despise myself. There is no other term I can describe how much I hate myself for not being who I really am. This constant pretending is killing me. But I don’t think about it often because it will just drive the suicidal self into action if I do. For years I have kept a lid on who I really was but I can’t do that anymore because it just hurts too much. I have to be who I am and if anyone can’t understand it, then they don’t need to be in my life. It hurts when the pronoun gets misused. I love it when I am called sir but then I kind of feel really bad when they correct it. Unfortunately, now that I am severely overweight, my figures are more defined so I am being called Ma’am more often and it hurts. Sometimes with baggy clothes or jacket I can still be called sir or mister but that is rare these days. I hardly go out anymore. I just can’t face the world. I have become reclusive to my own surroundings. I hate going out for anything even if it is for my one cup of Joe a day.