Category: suicide

this is just a blog

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

This is just a blog as I finally have some idea of what to write. This blogging every day has not been easy for me so I have learned to blog every other day or so just to keep things fresh. Most of my blogs deal with my severe depression and negative thinking. I cannot help what pops into head and what I write. My writing is my release from the everyday misery most people call life but I call hell.

Past few days I have been getting the itch to do something, anything, to try and get my leg swelling down. I have been in bed most of the day today but still the swelling has not gone down so I went out to get some cookies and some oatmeal because we didn’t have any in the house. I ordered lunch from Redbones, a southern place that makes good ribs. One rib was really fatty and disgusting so I let it be and ate the other less fatty ones. Though I usually enjoy their ribs, I found that today’s selection was not so great. I tried their fried Okra for the first time and it was tasteless. Twenty bucks down the drain. I should have tried to make the trip to Boston to get my bottle of Chianti and Pad Thai from the King and I restaurant. They have the BEST Pad Thai in this area.

Pain is bad in my ankle so I didn’t end up going farther than a block from my house. I still want my bottle of wine and Pad thai, maybe tomorrow.

I have had some good ideas on what to write for future blogs but I just can’t seem to get more than the ideas out on paper. For instance, I started writing about myself as Michael and that is where I ended. I could go no further than that. I guess because Michael means so much to me that I have a hard time expressing him. It is really personal to talk as Michael. Michael is my transgendered persona. I am a transgendered individual and I have been struggling a lot with this the past few years. It is getting more and more real as I try to think of what I want to be named. I hate my birth name but then I hate everything about me. From my face to my breasts all I can see is ugliness. I am ugly and no one can really tell me different no matter what they say.

Since I was little, I always preferred to be called “Mike”. It just sounded like a cool name. I would play pretend with my best childhood buddy. He would change his name to John and I would be Mike. I longed for the day when I could really be a “Mike”. It has been difficult the past few years because frankly I just rather kill myself than change. I remember watching a “Bones” episode of a transgendered female and though he had hormonally been a female, his bones still showed her to be a male. I find this very depressing. That I can go through the hormonal change and all but still have the bone structure of a female is haunting me to no end. I cannot change that no matter how hard I try. It fills me with a sadness that can be palpable. 

I have not discussed this beyond my blog and therapy sessions. It is so hard to talk about. Why am I putting it out on the world wide web? Because I am hoping that someone will read this and think “yup that is me” and understand what I am going through. It can be anonymous, I will never meet this person but at least they will know that they are not alone with this. I am trying to come to terms with it and have difficulty and knowing that transgendered persons are more likely to kill themselves are a big concern of mine because I can also be so suicidal when my identity is attacked. I still am around and I am sure others are also. I am sure they have attempted to kill themselves because they are tired of living a lie like I am. I feel crazy and sometimes like a freak because I know that I am a female but my head keeps telling me I am not. I can’t explain it more than that.

seriously want to know…

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

Seriously want to know why I take meds when it doesn’t seem to make a difference. I really believe suicidal thinking is more of a psychological think more than a biological thing, because shouldn’t I be better with meds than without? I have been on meds since I was sixteen. I have had many suicide attempts while on meds and while off meds, my most serious attempts being while ON. I am not saying that the medication that I take for my mood disorder made me suicidal. If that were the case, I think I would be dead by now. But seeing as I have been doing what the books tell you, to be in therapy and to have a medication regimen, shouldn’t I be LESS suicidal or at least a little bit more content with my life that I am not thinking of taking my life every day?

I have been on all the different psychotropic medications out there, from lithium to valproic acid, from Prozac to Zoloft, from remeron to cymbalta, all of the anti psychotics to deal with the nagging voices in my head that criticize me and tell me to kill myself. These voices sound like real voices to me and sometimes I have to be careful when others are around because they do think I am crazy when I have a conversation with myself. And I mean a full-fledged conversation with questions and answers. I don’t see my voices, just hear them. And a tiny pink pill called Abilify helps me to control them when they get too loud.  Nothing else works with less side effects. And side effects is what kept me going from med to med to what I take today which is a handful of pills a day. Not only do I take meds for my mental illness, I take it for my blood pressure, menstrual cycle, GERD, pain, spasms, anxiety/worry, and allergies. I long for the day when I was only taking one or two pills a day.

Life has become more complicated and so my has my suicidality. I thought that if I stayed in talk therapy, I would be better. I thought that if I took medication, my moods would be better and I would be able to function. But none of that is true for me. I have struggled with this illness for the past twenty years and no break has happened. I am constantly depressed, constantly suicidal. I just cannot be happy or if I am it is short lived. My one highlight of the day is my Starbucks trips. I get my latte or mocha and all is right with the world for a little while. I might write in my journal or just watch the traffic go by on the street or just take my coffee and head home, which is what I do most days. I just cannot be out for more than an hour. I become fatigued too quickly and then need to lie down. Plus if I stand long while waiting for the bus, my leg gets inflamed and then starts hurting me. I hate being in chronic physical pain almost as much as I hate being in chronic psychological pain.

Why do I still continue to take my meds despite not feeling 100% better? I know what my life is like while taking the meds versus when I don’t. it’s not pretty. I can barely get out of bed and do things on most days when I don’t take my meds. Taking my meds give me the hope I need to try and see the silver lining in some shape or form. If I didn’t believe that a tomorrow will be better than today, then I think I would have killed myself a long time ago and succeeded. I know I don’t have much to live for. I am hopeless most days. But I do the routine as frustrating as it can be some days. I know my psychiatrist has helped me more than anyone. She is my rock of hope when I no longer have one. When I went on a med hiatus, she is the one that got me back on the meds because my heart was so heavy I didn’t think I was going to make it.

There are some people in my life that I am still here for and I guess that is why I take my meds. I have to be here for my nieces and nephew. I don’t want to. I rather be six feet under pushing up daisies for an eternity. But not today. Today is a dreary day in Boston and I am just going to sit in bed and write this story about why I take my meds and maybe sleep some. I have nothing else to do today. It is my day to relax and put my feet up. I ran out of spoons on Tuesday and today is the day that I am trying to collect them back.

sense of humor keeping me alive?

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

Sense of humor keeping me alive?

Been thinking about this today.. I was at an interview meeting for first year medical students and I remember joking a lot with the interviewer. I was talking about serious stuff, like my suicide and transgender issues and I kept thinking why is every one laughing. I was laughing at myself, but inside. The voices were watching me and I could tell they were not pleased. They always get nervous when I tell people my most personal thoughts. I guess they get jealous when I tell people outside because the voices are lonely and they need me to continue to talk to them to exist. I have not been faithful with my medication the past few days. I find that my mind is better for writing when I am not medicated than when I am. It truly sucks trying to write and you can’t because the thoughts just are not flowing.

I began reading a book on sibling suicide written by a friend of mine. I had no idea how suicide affected siblings. I never thought about how my sisters would react to my death if I died by my own hand. I was more afraid of their children’s grief than theirs. I guess you can say I am too old to kill myself but that does not mean I want to live. I am forced to live because of my responsibilities to others. That is why I am still here. I can joke about suicide and suicidal thinking, because it is who I am. Right now I am feeling like the biggest asshole on the planet and I am betting not a single person on facebook responds to it. I know I post a lot of statuses. It is because I am bored most of the time and have to tell people what I am doing like they really care. I find that less meaningful statuses draw more attention than serious ones. I don’t know why that seems important to me but I have noticed it. Very rarely do my family members respond. Usually my friends do. Even those that are across the pond will respond. I know that not everyone can respond to each of my twenty or more statuses but the ones that mean the most to me are the ones that I find the most painful. I complain a lot about being in chronic pain. I use my Facebook status to vent about how awful I feel, both physically and mentally. It is very rare that I will post I am having a good day. The days last week are gone and I doubt they will happen again. I feel like my air has been let out of the balloon and now I am back to my usual level of depression.

Today I had a migraine. It was really bright outside and I resented having to go out to this meeting but I agreed and I always hold up to my commitments no matter how bad I was feeling. In this meeting I divulged more than I should have and I think that is why I am feeling very terrible now. I can’t shut up the voices in my head. They have been chattering non-stop since I have come home. I have been trying to read to drown them out but it does no good. They keep telling me I am a loser and won’t amount to a thing. That the book deal with my friend will never happen, that it was a joke to start with and I am starting to believe them because why would someone want to hear my voice? What makes me so damn special that others want to know my struggles with depression and suicide and being a transgender or being homosexual? But am I really homosexual if I am a guy and like women? I am so confused!!! I just want to fricken die rather than deal with this stuff. I know that I must continue to live to make others happen but it’s killing me to struggle every damn day, whether I pee my pants, crap my pants, am in chronic pain with my stupid ankle or have the nerve pain from hell or just have the biggest psychache in the world for no reason other than I am not who I am. I am a guy trapped in a woman’s body and it is killing me to be this way.

interview meeting with 1st yrs

by Midnight Demon, posted in CES, depression, psychache, suicide, transgender

Started reading a book about sibling suicide survivor. I was apprehensive about reading it because I have siblings that would probably go through the same things if I should die and I didn’t want to know what they would go through. My pain is bad enough but knowing I would cause my sisters pain would be impossible for me to take. I guess that is one of the many reasons I am still here.

I had an interview meeting with some med students today and I don’t know why but I told them I was transgendered and told them what it was like being. The doctor was good about it and I had Dr. P behind me in case I got into trouble. Right now I am feeling like the biggest asshole on the planet because I shared my biggest fear and the main reason why I feel suicidal. I sent a text to my therapist because I just feel so awful and I don’t know what to do about it. She hasn’t called me back yet so I decided to blog.

A lot of feelings came up but it also felt like a relief because I rarely discuss this outside the confines of my relationship with dr. p and bozo. I started to get a little lightheaded and dizzy at the release of my personal feelings about this. I don’t know how it happened but I think I am getting more and more comfortable talking about being transgendered and what it is like to be this way. I hope that the students will benefit from this. I tried to emphasize the alliance between doctors that helps so much in the heath care process because without it, you are not really going to have a good relationship or report with your patients.

I’m still trying to process what happened and how I feel about it but I am soooo fatigued. I just can’t think about today without it exhausting me. I don’t know if what I said was a good thing or a bad thing. I was trying to be honest about what my experiences were and how I got CES x 2 and everything but somehow the transgendered thing took over the conversation. I know it is because it is such a hot topic. More transgendered tend to be more suicidal and probably end up killing themselves more than we think.  I know those that get help become free but I also wonder if it still a constant struggle to be accepted as the gender we say we are once we make the transition. My therapist used the assimilation word on me last week and I am wondering if that is ever going to be possible for me or will I die before that happens. I’d like to think that I can lead this life without going through the “change” but I want facial hair and a mastectomy so bad. I loathe myself for having a chest. It is not what I want. I remember when they were forming I was pissed because it was not who I thought I was. It still is a painful reminder of what I am not.

So “Michael” entered the room to give his little speech about what it was like to be transgender. I didn’t want to use my real name because I hate it so much. I think with Michael I can really relate because I always thought of myself as a “Mike”, more so than Alex. Hell for this blog I am Michael Crusher and I don’t think that is going to change. I think Michael will be making more appearances on the blog, as it is easier sometimes to write under his name than my own.