exhausting week

Exhausting week

Sunday night I realized I was an absolute idiot. Even though going out to play chess was probably good for my mental health, it was not good for my physical pain. I had a very rough night sleeping. I sent some texts to the therapist and I saw her that afternoon on Monday. I got dressed up because I didn’t want to get dressed twice but that ended up happening anyways as after therapy, I went into my PJs for a nap that never happened. I never showered. I just couldn’t be bothered. I was and still am so profoundly depressed. I thought things couldn’t get possibly worse and they did. Tues morning while at the church, I read one of the psalm books and it had the word “breaking” in it. Well, my brain just saw the “king” part and the voices started chanting “you are king, go into the light” over and over and over again. I sent a message to the NP. She wanted me up to 6 mg but it was going to take a few days to work. I told her I have no idea if I have an infection (I don’t) but the uro wanted to do a urine culture. The NP said she thought about ordering other lab stuff and putting me on another medication. She was going to be away the rest of the week but would monitor the message system if I should send a message. I did tonight as the voices are still saying “go into the light” though I have no idea what the fuck it means and it is on a fucking loop that is annoying the crap out of me. The meds are working as I feel more sedated and less agitated than I was. Other than the voices kicking up, the funeral and reception went well. I spent yesterday in bed. I didn’t do a damn thing. I was supposed to have therapy today but decided to cancel. I am glad because the occupational therapy appointment took so much energy from me and then I went grocery shopping which further taxed me. I am so wiped out it isn’t funny.

I was hoping my writing was going to be a little more frequent but some days I can’t write. I had so much emotion that I was just overloaded and couldn’t get my thoughts out but then, when you are actively psychotic, it is so damn hard to think. I got to ask my therapist how old she is, well at least if she is younger or older than I am. It is bugging the crap out of me. She freaked out when I told her the year I was born. I don’t understand why as she has my record in front of her. Makes no sense. The professionals I see are always shocked when they see my age. They will say, “oh, you’re 43? I thought you were 20 something.” Um, hello. I am not lying if you have my record there in front of you! I know I don’t look my age (don’t act it either, LOL) but come on.

As I was walking back to the area where the shuttles were to the train, I just crossed the street. Didn’t look and almost got hit by a passing car. I was like oh shit. It was a cop car too. I am just glad they didn’t give me a ticket because I didn’t cross at the crosswalk that was like 20 feet away from me. I still have this heaviness in my heart left by my aunt that passed. My cousin sent me a pic of my godfather last night. It was a pic that was taken at my cousin’s house way back when his kids were little. I miss him so much too. He has been gone for about 6 years or so now. I know he would have accepted me as trans. He was such a good guy with the kindest heart.

It’s 5 AM

It’s 5 am

I woke up an hour ago to pee and couldn’t go back to sleep. So I am writing hoping that does the trick. I had posted in my support group for cauda equina about me having to bring my catheter bag with me to the wake and funeral. I really don’t want to but if I need to go, well, I need to go. I can sometimes go on my own but other times, it is a hit or miss, with a miss being I need to cath. I am so nervous about this. I think I am going to call my cousin later this today to let her know just to ease my mind a bit, though her knowing what the bag is for might cause things to be uncomfortable for all. I don’t know. I didn’t think of that scenario. Fucking stupid bladder!

I did what I wanted to do yesterday. I ended up showering Friday night because I just couldn’t take my hair being dirty anymore. Then yesterday when the pharmacy was open, I went and got my meds. I also got some of my favorite cold brew coffee drinks. They were on sale so I didn’t mind spending money on them but forgot to buy the M&Ms peanut candy. Will have to go back today. I want to go to the Chess Club today. I set my alarm and will be taking my morning meds later than I usually take them in case I am able to get back to sleep. I just checked the bus schedule and, oof, the bus doesn’t run frequently on Sundays. I thought I would be able to leave around 1230 as the club starts at 1300. The bus is at 1155 so I will be a half hour early. Which is fine as I want to check out the coffee shop the club hangs out at. I will see if I can borrow ten bucks from my mother as I don’t have much cash on me. Wish I remembered about the club before buying the coffee stuff at the pharmacy. Oh well.

My foot just exploded in pain for whatever reason. There is a storm brewing in the area so that maybe why. I am not sure if it is today or tomorrow. I just know I am hurting now. I don’t think I will be able to go back to sleep now. The psychosis is still there so much to my reluctance, I am going up to 6 mg of Invega to try and stop the psychosis from getting worse. I just got to worry about side effects and cognitive issues as it might interfere with my writing more. It happened when I was in college. God I hated it because I would read the same paragraph at least three times still not knowing what the hell I read. Oddly, I was taking a neuroscience psychology class at the time. When I told the professor I had to withdraw she understood. I was thankful for that.

I guess my dream of coming off the Invega is not going to happen. Seems every time I feel ready enough to stop taking it, shit like this happens. I know it is always a risk when my mood is getting bad or is already bad. Sometimes the psychosis is not congruent with my mood so there is that. I did check my “issues” and seems the NP took off BPD and just left the Persistent Depressive Disorder, which used to be known as Dysthymia. That does fit into what I have better than recurrent major depression. Either way, I do have a depressive disorder and calling it whatever doesn’t change the fact I have it. My skies are always going to be gray no matter what it is called. I am just glad the BPD has been taken off my record. I have certain criteria but I don’t meet enough to have the disorder.

I am going to try and nap for a bit. I got five hours before I need to get ready. Hope to sleep for at least 4 hours. Wish me luck!

depression is getting worse

Depression is getting worse

Wed I was in a bad mood. I had therapy and psychopharm appointments that day. I didn’t want to go to either of them. I had started to lose the will to live and it has continued. Wed I also found out my godmother died. She was 95. I’ve been in a weird mood since she died. Haven’t been eating much so lost more weight. I told the psychopharm about it. She doesn’t seem that concerned. I told her I had lost the will to live. Nothing matters to me anymore. They (therapist and psychopharm) are going to have me see a psychologist in behavioral medicine to help me work on more trusting relationships with medical professionals.

Anyways, therapist wants me writing every day as “self-care”. Today has been the first day I have been alert enough to sit up to write. Been having such a hard time on days that I don’t have anything to do. I just stay in bed all day. She wants to be accountable to writing but I don’t think she understood what I meant. But then, I have no idea what I meant. Things have been so damn difficult and with the Wake and Funeral on Tues it is going to be so damn hard. I am going to have to get dressed up before leaving for therapy as I don’t think there will be time to change and stuff, given the way my energy levels have been like lately. I just got to be careful not to spill nothing on it. The clothes will be loose as I have lost so much weight in the past year. I don’t know if I have a waist 38 pants anymore. Whoo just checked my closet and had two pair of pants that are a size 38. I don’t know how they fit. They are dusty so I got them in the washer now. I am glad I didn’t empty my closet when my sister moved in. I would be without clothes.

I’ve barely slept the past 24 hours. I was up all night worrying about a friend. She had sent me a message saying that she was going to have surgery in the morning. She is in England so when I responded this morning asking how she was, she said she didn’t have it done as there would be no use. The damage will still be there. I feel bad as I know I am going through a similar fate. I need to shower and then pick up my meds tomorrow. Those are the only things I have to do. If I can shower, it will make going to the store better. I don’t know if I will have energy for both. Mood just sucks so bad. I wonder if I will ever care enough to live long enough to buy a suit. I never owned one, not even a sports coat. I was asked to be a pallbearer. And the only reason I wanted to say no was because I didn’t have a suit. I’ve never been a pallbearer before. I am honored to be asked. Just hope I don’t drop the casket. I will be horrified.

painsomnia has returned

Painsomnia has returned

With the depression making me so damn tired, I had escaped for a little while from the pain induced insomnia or just insomnia in general. The temps have dropped considerably (currently in the 20sF) so my pain is beyond measuring right now. I took some extra pain meds and hope that it works and that I don’t have to take more meds. It’s a little after 2 right now. I hope I can sleep by at least 4 or so. The pain is like a slew of nails being shot into my foot and ankle joint. I cannot describe it beyond that right now. It is making me very suicidal but I have no intention to act on it. I don’t have anything to really act with. I gave my container of ginger to the therapist a few weeks ago. The ones that I have, have proved pointless. Either 100 mg of ginger root is not enough to cause a reaction or I really need the real thing like ginger beer or shaved root.

I met with the therapist yesterday. I had to because I was getting worried I might attempt again. Plus the voices have increased because of the stress or god knows what. Think just worrying that I having a repeat of my episode of 1994 where I was in and out of the hospital with intermittent suicide attempts on the side, one that landed me a two month stay. I didn’t become psychotic during that episode. I am really freaking out because if this does develop into a psychotic depression, I don’t have my psych here to help me guide treatment options. The psychopharm (NP and MD) have wanted to increase the antipsychotic I have been taking for a while now but I have been reluctant. I fear that if they have to play with this medication to get me stable again while my mood is out of order, I think I will have no choice but to go back to the hospital. I would feel better with this being done in an inpatient setting because the voices can be tricky to deal with outpatient. Once they start telling me to do stuff, which they are starting to, I have a hard time ignoring them. They are already making fun of me because I failed in killing myself, again. I haven’t been eating anything all week. I have been drinking Ensure and Gatorade just to make sure I don’t completely lose it. I am slowly losing the will to live. I don’t care about food. My favorite holiday is coming up. A very good friend invited me to her house but I have no idea what kind of shape I will be in. My friend is more like my sister from another mother. We are close and we understand each other. We make each other laugh, especially when we get going with our dirty minds. I am trying to remember to eat something every day but when there is no appetite, it is kind of hard. My food stamps just came in so I can go to the grocery store to get some cold cuts or some ingredients to make something but I don’t really know what I want to cook. I started my grocery order list and it’s almost $200 again. It was just $100 with just my drinks and the few things I buy every month. I have no idea what is in it now. I know I put some ice cream and cookies on there. I will probably take them off. If I go to the grocery store, I will get the chocolate Reese’s peanut butter cup ice cream I like. Least it will be something in my stomach.

Because I was up in the middle of the night, I gave my T shot so I don’t have to worry about giving it before leaving the house. It is going to be hard when I get to sleep because I have to leave early. I have therapy at noon. I sent my psych an email about how the psychosis is starting to get out of hand and that I don’t trust the providers without her guiding me. This is so flipping hard. It’s been four months since I last saw my psych and started seeing the therapist. I can’t call the therapist “my” therapist because I don’t trust it 100% yet. I am still waiting for her to drop me. She wanted me to write something about the benefits of going to partial hospital. I don’t have much to say about it. I haven’t been to a partial program in more than 10 years. I didn’t like it then and I doubt I will like it now. I don’t want to go mostly due to financial concerns as well as having to be a morning person. I also would have to worry about how this is going to affect my pain levels by being out a minimum of eight hours a day.

Going to try this thing called sleep. It’s almost 4 am. I got to be up in four hours. Yay.