Category: suicide

On and On it Goes

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

On and On it Goes

There has been a Mary Chapin Carpenter song that keeps going round and round my brain the last few weeks. The song is called “On and On it Goes.” The lyrics seem to resonate with how I am feeling and give me a kind of hope that I am needing. It is funny because the album, The Calling, was out in 2006. There are songs that are really good. I liked the album but as things go, I listen to it for a while and then move on to other music. She is no longer on country radio and I am not sure if she is on the genre of folksy music. Regardless, she remains one of my top favorite artists. I think I love her more than any other. Her voice is so soothing to me and I often listen to her music when I need to calm down. She is so amazing. She will be on the Terry Clark (another one of my favorite artists) Country Gold. I have not heard Terry Clark’s podcast in a while. I actually haven’t listened to any podcasts recently. I mostly just been listening to Mary or Luke Combs or sometimes Maren Morris’s “Girl.”

Last night was a rough night. I was highly suicidal and wanted so badly to act on my feelings. I was really struggling. I had sent an email to my psych in the early afternoon that I was okay and didn’t need to call her. Last night, I rescinded that message. I told her I was struggling and that I was not okay though I didn’t think I would really act (I was doing everything I could not to). I had written the email around 2300 but have had no response as of yet. She might have missed it or maybe doesn’t want to respond. I don’t know.

My schedule kind of cleared up a bit for this coming week. My pcp appointment I thought I had wasn’t there so I scheduled another appointment as I need to talk to him about my meds. Next week I will need a refill on anyway, least for the breakthrough meds. For some reason the extended release is a few days later. I have no idea how that happened. I can only think it is because the pharmacy was out and it took a few days to come in so now it is off my schedule for refills. I just have PT, which will be the last visit, and therapy. The following week will be tough as I got three and it could potentially become four with seeing the therapist. Hoping the therapist appointment will be the same day I see my pcp at they are at the same location.

I was feeling really depressed last night. Psychache was heavily weighing on my chest. I was feeling a huge amount of guilt and worthlessness. I also felt like a burden. I was beside myself with grief of not being able to see my psych and also the loss of my therapist of 16 years. The Sox game did not provide the distraction I was looking for as they lost in a big way, 11-2 to the worst team in the MLB. I have no idea why we lose to bad teams yet are able to win against those with winning records. Makes no fricken sense. But this is the 2019 Sox that are sucking so bad. The manager keeps saying “they need to do better” but I don’t know when that will be. Apparently in last night’s blow out, there were a lot of errors. I can’t say I am surprised because the way the lineup was flabbergasted me. They had players that did not regularly play their positions they were in and I can only guess messed up terribly. I know the right fielder did when there was an inside the park home run. It was downhill from there.

I wanted a beer today. I was supposed to see friends today but because of the high heat, we cancelled for another day. I went down to my sister’s to see if my brother in law had the one I was looking for, a Sam Adams ’76. He did. I had some chips and made a cold cut sandwich. By the time I was done with the sandwich, the roof of my mouth was reacting to something. I am not sure if the beer had ginger in it or not. It tasted different than the other Sam Adams I have had and was citrusy. I took a Benadryl just in case the swelling becomes worse. I tweeted the Sam Adams account to see if the beer has ginger in it. It has some strange hops in it that might contain it. There was no ingredient label on the bottle and nothing I could find on google other than the hops used, which might be what I am reacting to as well. My tongue is now being affected so I am glad I took the Benadryl when I did. Not sure if I need more or not.

Since going down to my sister’s, my ankle/foot has been acting up. When I came back to my room, the pain just got worse. I am tempted to take another breakthrough med. Foot is throbbing so intensely. It is bringing on the suicidal state I get into. I hope tonight isn’t going to be like last night. I really don’t want to struggle again. I am still exhausted from all my efforts to avoid acting on my urges. Hope the pain meds work. And the Benadryl. Going to take my night meds now and listen to the game. Hope they beat the shit out of the O’s.

thoughts floating around the brain

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

Thoughts floating around the brain

I took a nap that was longer than I wanted to take. Now I am having trouble sleeping. I am not in a super amount of pain, but just enough to let me know it is there, like it always is. I really didn’t eat much today and I probably should eat something but other than my frozen burrito, I don’t know what to have. I would have cereal but the milk sometimes upsets my stomach. If I am able to afford groceries next week, I will get some almond milk or soy.

I am feeling guilty that my psych feels she needs to keep tabs on me. She wasn’t judgmental about what I wrote to her nor did she panic like I knew some mental health professionals might. She has known me for a long time and I think she knows that even though I get really suicidal I haven’t really acted on it in years. There may have been a few occasions where I have taken one too many doses of things that I told her about that usually lead to a hospitalization or the tone of an email that signaled to her that things were not right with me. I told her how the meds are messing with my cognitions around writing. It is rare that I am writing at this hour (just before midnight) but then this is blog isn’t called “Midnightdemons” for fun. I write around or after the midnight hour.

With technically yesterday being my anniversary of my blog, I really started thinking about what this blog means to me. It has always been my outlet to either share information about suicidal research papers or books that I think maybe helpful. I am not sure if there are any clinicians that still follow my blog as I have turned this more into a chronic pain/depression blog but still talk about the daily chronic suicidal feelings I have. There are some days that I have no idea how I got through them and even if you asked me, I have no answers. I know when I got really suicidal back in May and there were two nights where pain was really bad that I had wanted to act on my feelings in the worse way. I just kept holding out for daylight because then I knew I would be okay but those nights were long and how I was able to get to sleep before those daylight hours or close to it, I am not sure. My psych has been there more for me since my therapist of 16 years left me two years ago. She has been my only rock and continues to be because therapists don’t tend to stay in my life that long. I have no idea how I lucked out with her. I truly don’t. And if she has a reason for that, she hasn’t told me.

There was a lecture that someone posted about psych meds and whether people with chronic mental illness needs to be on them long term as they don’t really know if they work the way we think they do. But there is that medical model of trying to “cure” and to do something to alleviate suffering. Some people will say these medicines have saved their lives. I used to believe that but now I am not so sure. I don’t want to be on them but I know what my life is like off them. I really want to get off the antipsychotic I am on but it took a really long time for me to find something that helped keep the delusions, paranoia, and “bad” voices away. I still have two or three that are my “normal” voices and the one that “reads” to me while reading a book or something. Without this “reading” voice, I cannot comprehend the words on the page. I can read the words but they make no sense to me. I found that when I was on high doses of trilafon, it stopped all my voices and I literally couldn’t function. It was around this time that I had to consistently take an antipsychotic. The voices just got worse as I grew older and with it, took longer to control. I don’t have side effects from this drug but I am just wondering if the Ativan is what is keeping those side effects at bay like it did with the previous one I was taking.

The lecture was interesting. I didn’t finish watching the whole hour and half but just got the gist of what it was all about. It is on youtube though I don’t remember the name of the video.

My pain hasn’t been horrific the past day and a half, which is kind of freaking me out a bit. But because it hasn’t been, my suicidality has been lower than it has been the past few weeks. These breaks are welcome because being highly suicidal all the time is just a dangerous place to be in. Even though I was hospitalized for three weeks in May, I didn’t give up my plan on how to end my life. That is still ongoing. I am just finding that I keep getting closer to acting on it with each flare that I have as the pain just makes me feel so hopeless and I want to escape from it so bad. My psych knows that pain is the principle driver in my suicidality. She understands it, maybe not all of it, but she validates what I go through, which is more than what anyone has done for me regarding it. I am not sure if the therapist will. We are still learning about each other and how she can help me. But it will take some time before that happens. I don’t know if she will ask how my suicidality will be from here on out or if she will just go with it if I don’t bring it up. We haven’t made any plans surrounding it and she hasn’t even said to reach out to her if I am in trouble so I am again not too trusting of her, least not yet. I tend to keep my suicidal stuff private with people. Sure I write about it here but how many people that I interact with read my blog on a daily or semi-daily basis? Some people don’t even know I have a blog unless I tell them. I feel like I have to keep my suicidal thoughts private because I don’t want to end up in the ED or hospital every time I bring them up. That doesn’t help me. In fact, it will just piss me the fuck off, and that is the last thing you should do when you are suicidal.

Pit of Doom

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

Pit of doom

I didn’t think it was that long a period between blogs but I guess I am writing every 4 days or so. I don’t like it but some days it is so hard to get my thoughts together. I am missing the hell out of my psychiatrist even though it has only been two weeks since I last saw her. We have been keeping in touch through email but it isn’t the same thing. I went through the email communication while she was out during her hip surgery and it was torture. I didn’t see her for about 3 to 4 months while she was recovering. I seem to be emailing her at least twice a day, more if there is a response. I just miss her so much.

In the meantime, my mood has blackened. The suicidal mood that I was in in April seems to have returned. It isn’t quite as deep as it was then, but it is slowly getting worse. I am 100% sure the stress of being home and arguing with family nearly every day or every other has significantly contributed. I honestly don’t feel like I am wanted yet I am expected to do things even though my pain is through the roof. Sunday my youngest sister, who I thought was on my side, came up and put my clothes in the bin it was on top of, all without asking first. I did not want them in the bin because I do not want them smelling like plastic. She said she would throw in some dryer sheets. I got so pissed. I sarcastically thanked her and said it is going to hurt my back bending to get my clothes. She said I was being mean and to use my knees. Then she tells me to live my life, storms back up here and puts my clothes that were in a neat pile before, out of the bin in a messy fashion. I was in tears the whole fucking day as my pain just went through the fucking roof I was so upset. Later that night she calls me and I didn’t answer. She calls me a baby and tells me to be an adult. I say you tell me to live my life then call me a baby? Then she goes on about how living in a “mess” is unhealthy. I say I am not dead yet, nor have I been seriously ill. She then calls me selfish and I say good night. We haven’t spoken since. Last night they were having another argument with my mother, and again my fucking middle sister said to my mother “she wasn’t getting younger”. I have no fucking idea why the hell she is obsessed with age. She is 11 months younger than me and says she is old. WTF. I don’t get it. I do not like the fact they have my mother’s bedroom at the far end of the house while every one else is not near her. Something happens to her, we aren’t going to know till morning. How the fuck is that fair. Her sugar was low Saturday night and she came in my room. I was up because I had used the bathroom and couldn’t go back to sleep. She is supposed to navigate with a low sugar to get help or to the kitchen?? Obviously they didn’t plan this out or think this through.

Last night I was in a dark mood. I wrote a draft of what I wanted to say to my psych. Then sent off another email around midnight as I was in so much pain with my back and ankle I couldn’t sleep and was thinking of ending it. I have been slowly doing stuff in my room and it is costing me big time. I bought 6 bins to put my stuff in. I wanted to do stuff yesterday but all I got done was making space for one bin when I wanted to clear my bed so I could change the sheets. I had spilled Gatorade on the bedding so they need to be changed. I wanted to get it done today but I needed a shower, something to eat, and to pick up my meds. I actually had to go to the pharmacy twice because I forgot my ID at home. By the time I came back the second trip, I could barely make it home. I was sweating profusely, back and ankle kicked up two houses from mine, and I was kind of wishing I was fucking dead at that point. I had to change my shirt again. I wanted to jump into a cool shower but I don’t have the energy. Changing my sheets might have to happen Friday, if I don’t have to go to another pharmacy for my pain meds. Maybe I will go to a different chain this time. This new pharmacy always has problems with my meds every month since the other one closed. I am sick of it.

Back is so flared up my scar is hurting. I had to email my pcp to see if he knew of anything to help. He said maybe lidocaine. I have some lido patches so have been using that at night. It has been helping the pain but not the inflammation. I can’t use ibuprofen anymore because I have been getting flares of gastritis. I am on a PPI so I shouldn’t be getting the gastritis and having to use an antacid to settle my stomach. I switched from morning to evening and that has helped. I still don’t want to risk rocking the boat so am avoiding the ibuprofen. I just been taking Tylenol. Some times the pain med helps if the pain is severe enough but it is mostly muscle pain. I know I need to rest it but I got so much shit to do in my room. I thought every other day would be okay but nope. Just makes the pain worse and then I am out of commission for a week. I am just resting the rest of today. I had made a breakfast burrito so that should last me all day. I stayed in my room all day yesterday to avoid family. I didn’t go down to eat at all. I was going to when they had the meeting with my mother. I feel like my sisters are ganging up on my mother and I. All I had to eat yesterday was a protein bar and half cup of coffee. Think I might have had another protein bar before bed but my stomach was killing me so I don’t remember. I lost eight pounds in a week because of the stress. I either had no appetite or just didn’t feel like eating. I think last night’s stomach pains was hunger pains.

I am holding off on sending the draft to my psych. I have a tentative date I want to end things. I really don’t see the point of going on with the ongoing stress at home. I am trying to hold on to what she said of what I have to give to the world. A person on Twitter that I do not know had said the same thing. She had followed me for a while and said somethings that really made me think I mattered in what I say in my tweets, even if I don’t get likes or comments on them. A follower I know through the red sox said she found the courage to share her pain issues on Twitter because of what I write. It is so damn hard to continue living when you want to die yet know people out there, many you don’t know but know of you ether online or through social media, want you to go on despite you having no desire to.

We don’t have to talk, I just want to hear your voice

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

We don’t have to talk, I just want to hear your voice

So I am going to try and crank this out as the Sox are playing and Luke Combs, Lady A, and Matt Snell continue to break my heart. This maybe long as there is a lot of stuff to talk about since I haven’t written in a week. So grab some coffee or something.

I’ve been battling a UTI (urinary tract infection) for the past week and a half. My pcp did not consult with me on antibiotics so the first course of treatment did not work. I finished on Sunday and Monday I had the foul smelly, cloudy urine again. I had called the pcp office but it was late in the day and no one got back to me. Tuesday I was able to get a hold of the idiot RN and told him my symptoms. I had an appointment with the new therapist and hoped he would get back to me as I was passing blood at this point. My results came back early afternoon but I got no call from my pcp or provider letter. So Wed I am hurting really bad. I am passing blood clots, blood, and mucus and it was extremely painful doing so. Bladder pain was terrible and I kept losing control of my urine as the urges to go were not to be messed with. At one point I waited a bit too long and thankfully had a diaper on because otherwise I would have had a puddle on my rug as I couldn’t even open the door before losing it. I was getting pissed (no pun intended). I called the office and the RN said that I did have infection (ya think) and my doc called in a prescription. Again my doc DID NOT CALL ME! I asked which one and I said I have no effect with that one I need to be on this one. Wed all I had to eat was some Ramen noodles. I didn’t want to eat or drink anything. Thursday I slept all day. I only ate when my protein bars came in. I had wanted to be up before my night meds but I wasn’t so the med alarm woke me from sleep. My mother too had called which annoyed me more than the phone alarm. I had flank pain but it was minor. I had 2 doses of antibiotics. I emailed my psych to ask her if I should go to the ER as I thought I was dehydrated. We fiddled with how much I was to drink but in the end my stomach only took 3 oz (90 mL). I then felt nauseous and I went to bed. My psych wanted me to get in touch with her today. I said ok.

5 am this morning, I woke up with worse flank pain and felt really lousy. It still hurt to pee but I wasn’t passing clots or mucus. I emailed my psych about this and went back to sleep after taking some Tylenol. I just figured it was nothing but maybe soreness from not eating and drinking anything. When I woke up to my morning meds, my psych had emailed back that I should contact my pcp as flank pain is not something you get with a UTI. Shit. I knew it wasn’t but I really didn’t want to go to the ER. I wanted to bake cookies. So I emailed her I would go to the ER as I wasn’t contacting my PCP again to talk with his idiot RN. I have no idea why good doctors have idiot staff. When I got to the hospital, I called his office just to let him know I was in the ED. Within fifteen minutes my PCP calls me and I tell him what was going on. He said that was the right thing and sent me on my way. ED ran tests but in the end it was to drink more (I laughed at this) and keep the course of antibiotics. OK. On the way home, I sent a message to PCP asking him to do some more urine tests to make sure the damn infection I have is fucking gone. I then sent one to my psych. She responded by asking what did they say. I told her and then asked if she wanted me to call her over the weekend. Our last weekend. I haven’t heard back, yet.

On Monday 17 June, I met with my psych. She told me some very bad, horrible news that has left me feeling numb but really angry at the institution we worked at. Her department wanted her to step down from whatever position and she said no. So they terminated her, June 30th is her last day. My last appointment with her is June 24, this coming Monday. I still have not processed it but I tried on Wed to write something. I knew it had been more than a few days since writing a blog. For the first time in almost 7 years, I lost my words. I couldn’t even begin to write about this and still am tearing up about it. I have been thinking about her and all we have went through. Wed night I wrote her something then couldn’t sleep. I didn’t go to bed till I don’t even remember the hour. Must have been late/early as I slept almost all of yesterday. There is no way in hell I could write what the last 26 years have been like in a paragraph or even in one long blog. I wrote two pages until my brain and emotions were fried. Then I kept fine tuning it. Adding stuff, fixing, punctuating, grammar, you name it. After the third go round I said fuck it and sent it to her with a PS saying that this might not be grammatically correct or something to that effect. In the email, I told her to open it at her leisure, maybe with a few tissues and I would bring a box on Monday.

She said I would be assigned another psychiatrist in the adult department, which so far I haven’t. She wants to have a Lamictal level drawn the next time I see my PCP so if he responds to the urine tests, I will ask him then. I have been preoccupied with her leaving and the UTI that I forgot. I tried not to break down though I did shed some tears. She asked if I could come in next week and I didn’t know what to say. She just shook her head yes and I said ok. The end of June is coming and it would be our last time together for a while. She said she is trying to find some other academic home and then when she gets sets up she plans on calling me. She said her email and phone number wouldn’t change (I am not 100% that is true. I know with me, I was cut off the day they let me go. They might have different stuff for MDs.) I thought of making her my marinara sauce, which I am still planning on doing on Sunday. I wanted to back cookies for her. I am hoping to do so tomorrow if I don’t have an all nightery with pain or emotions. Last night, I realized not only did I not have a copy of my second book on ANY of the 8 thumb drives I had, I also no longer have roots holding my tree up. It was a story I wrote that I don’t think I ever published on my blog. It was about my therapist and psychiatrist keeping me here. One of the roots said goodbye for reasons I still don’t know what they were. Now the other root is leaving me and I have nothing holding me up.

Tuesday was a bigger nightmare as I was supposed to meet with a new therapist. I was so fucking nervous because I knew if she didn’t want to take me on or I didn’t like her off the bat, I would have NO mental health services at all, none! So I went to the appointment and she asked me a shit ton of questions. I carefully worded and didn’t elaborate on anything that would lead to my suicidality. Least not until she said I was discharged from the psych unit and I immediately wanted to die. She asked if I was suicidal. I said no and then asked what would I end it when I leave here. I said no. Throughout, she kept on saying my psychiatrist terminated me and I must feel abandoned. When I asked where do we go from here, she asked what did I want to do, like she had no interest in seeing me ever again. That felt so welcoming. Mind you, when she went into the waiting room she called for someone with my birthname. So we didn’t exactly start off the right foot. I told her I had a three session rule and then I would decide if I would stay on or not. Though, if at three sessions I didn’t, there was no where else for me to go. She asked who I would call should I get suicidal and I said my psych and then it dawned on me, she wasn’t going to be there anymore and fuck, I damn near lost it.

I wrote to my psych and said the therapist said I feel abandoned and I said I didn’t. My psych responded saying I may feel that way. I wrote back I would if this was good bye and it is more of a see you later, or is it? She never responded back. Later that day, Luke Combs came out with the song, Even though I am leaving, and I just about lost it. It was perfect to all the stuff I feel about my psych. This cannot be goodbye.

If I don’t write next week, please know it is most likely due to emotional overload and cannot find the words to the hurt or whatever I feel. I see the therapist Thursday.