Category: suicide

Hurricane Joaquin

Today has been heavy rain and flash floods every where. I am glad I didn’t venture out as I would have gotten soaked. It’s windy but not too much. During one of the breaks in the rain, my mother decided to open the back porch door. Then the heavy rain fell. Luckily, I got to the kitchen in time before it flooded. It is really humid and the house is very muggy as most of the windows are closed. I am ok in my room, but then I have the AC. I hope the rain clears up by tomorrow as I really don’t want to be traveling in the rain. I don’t mind getting wet if I am just walking in the rain (I love it!) but if I have to go somewhere, I hate being in wet clothes. I don’t usually carry an umbrella in stormy weather because all you are doing is fighting with the damn thing and going to get soaked either way. I will carry it if there is no wind, which is what I hope the case will be tomorrow.

I’m glad I didn’t have to go into town today. There was a fire inside one of the stations and flooding at another one. Good going MBTA! The line was down for a good couple of hours. It is now just getting close to being on time. If the stations can’t handle heavy rain, I don’t know how they are going to handle the winter. This past winter there were major delays all over the place. Commuter rail going to the suburbs were affected as well. It was a disaster. I hope this winter won’t be as horrid, but you never know until January.

I had therapy though we didn’t talk about therapy things. Our connection wasn’t great today, probably because of the weather but I think my therapist needs a new phone and she is in great denial about it. So we talked about tech stuff. She was amazed that she went on the internet when I send her links to my blog. She had no idea. Talk about being clueless. She also doesn’t want to lose my text messages, which I can understand. She did that before and doesn’t know how she did it and boy, was she in a panic. I tried explaining to her that getting a new phone will suck for a little while but she wouldn’t listen at all. This is what I am getting from therapy. Counseling my therapist on cell phones and how the internet works. LOL. I found it funny and made a comment about it. She just laughed. She did read the yesterday’s blog that I sent her. She said that it was good that I sent it to her because she doesn’t know when her anxiety about my pain is interfering with things.

We then talked about my writing, or rather the lack of it. Today has been a long day because I woke up so damn early. She said to print out the things that I have written and read it over. Maybe that will spark something. I haven’t done that yet. I was describing the difficulty of writing when she asked if I had any journals about psychosis or something to that effect. I told her I just have suicide or self harm journal articles. I suppose I could Google something but that sounds like a lot of work for something that is supposed to be fiction. I don’t really want my short story to become a clinical paper. She really wanted me to write about my early experiences with my fantasy world but it would be too triggering for me and then with the weekend coming, her not being available, it would be tough to sit through all that stuff. So it stays in my head where it belongs. I’m already having enough anxiety over the anniversary coming up next week. What keeps going through my mind is when I got the phone call from my PCP while I was driving to my therapist’s appointment (I had a car then). I remember having to pull over because I wanted to listen carefully to what he was telling me and not crash into something. After the phone call, I was numb. I had CES again and I was to report to the hospital the following day for surgery. I am glad I had therapy that night because I was close to losing my shit, but it was a weird calm. I knew what to expect this go round because I had been through it before and I had the support of my group. I didn’t know when I would be able to see my therapist again. I was walking when I went to the hospital but wasn’t when I left, not unassisted anyway. I was walking with a walker or a cane. I can’t remember. I just know my left leg was weaker than it was before the surgery. It is what lead to my disability. I know that if I didn’t hurt my back the second go round with this horrid condition, I probably would still be working now. I lost so much after this but I was determined to make as full a recovery as possible. I had to fight to keep my PT appointments, even though they were just telling me to join a gym. A gym wouldn’t help me. I would have to figure things out on my own and fuck that. I wanted someone to show me what I should be doing and how to do it. That is how I learn. I think during my recovery time my therapist started with the phone sessions and it just continued even after I recovered. If I couldn’t make it to where she was, I would have a phone session. It didn’t become a regular thing until I no longer had access to a car to get to her office thirty miles away from me. Both my cars died on me. They were used when I got them and I just didn’t want to put more money into old cars. I do miss the Camaro. That car was sweet. I got my first speeding ticket with that car. I think I still have the violation somewhere in my files. It is paid, of course, but I just wanted to keep it.

There’s a lot of things I wish I knew when I got the second diagnosis of Cauda Equina Syndrome. Like how my bowels and bladder were going to be. They still don’t work the way they did before. I had retention and leakage with my bladder before the second surgery but it got worse after. If I had checked out the AFO before I got CRPS in my ankle, maybe, just maybe I wouldn’t have it today. These are the things that go through my mind. But mostly it was getting that phone call saying that I had CES x 2 that kills me to this day. It’s going to be a rough week.