Category: suicide

2019May02

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

2019May02

I had a good talk with my psych last night that I am still thinking about today. Unfortunately, the better mood didn’t last as today I am feeling really blah and down. I am trying to hold on to the feelings and words from last night but it is so hard, like trying to hold water in my hands. I had ordered food. I thought if I bought something I would be able to finish it even though I wasn’t hungry but I only ate about a little more than half before I couldn’t eat anymore. I couldn’t even finish the onion rings. I just feel so down. Makes me wonder if going on an antidepressant would be a good thing for at least a few weeks rather than continuing to hope this is going to pass.

I was able to clear off some of my desk stuff. I just put it in a box to go through at some point but at least my desk is clear. I just need to really dust it off. And get rid of some of the other stuff that isn’t paper related. I kicked a bunch of dust in the air, which my lungs loved. I did one thing to clear my room and now I just need to take out the trash and recycle. Kind of stinks because today was trash and recycle day. Oh well. Least the stuff will be in an empty bin.

I wasn’t on my feet too long but long enough that my foot and ankle are hurting me. It is mild right now and hope it doesn’t get worse. I am thinking of having my doc actually write up a doctor’s note just to see what she would say. She was so adamant about getting my family off my back, even having them call her if they don’t believe me that I need to be off my feet or whatever. I am not saying that to make it seem like I need an excuse not to do stuff around my room. I have been doing stuff but not at the pace my sisters want it to be done. My middle sister thinks that because I am home all day means I need to just clear and clean the whole time, not even going out of the house for coffee as if I can do that than I can do this then. I am so frustrated and being upset just contributes to my pain. It has been such a nasty cycle of pain and bad mood feeding off each other. I was having flares nearly day or just went on for days. The suicidality piece has been on mind for a long time. My psych told me not do it over this. I could hear her trying to plead with me (for lack of a better word) not to do it.

I have mixed feeling about this because I have been planning my death since January. This was well before I knew my sister was going to be moving in with us. I just had enough of the pain and low mood that I felt the end of March was to be when it would fall through. But the day I planned rained and nearly every week after that has rained or my psych intervened some how to prevent me from going through it. April was a tough month. I know the increase in my extended release med has been helping me because my pain isn’t as severe as it was. I am back down to a low 3, which I wasn’t on since starting this new med more than a year ago. I haven’t been too active since starting it only because I had flared up my leg so much compensating for pain I needed to rest it. I thought I was okay but yesterday I went out and flared it up again. I didn’t even walk more than a block. I hate that this syndrome of pain has crippled me so much. I have only left my house to go to appointments. There was only one fun day and that was when I went to a ball game the second week in April. I barely leave my house anymore for anything, not even to sit and write at Starbucks. I have decreased my funds at Starbucks because I have not gone in so long.

I understand why my psych doesn’t want me to die by my own hand. I have grown on her for a while now and even though I forget the few times she has shown her feelings for me, I know they are there. I don’t know if she can comprehend just how much I want to die, though. I know it sounds stupid, even though she does understand why I want to end things right now and I can go ahead with it any time I choose. I just haven’t. Maybe she is banking on my ambivalence. I don’t know. All week I have felt like a burden to her and a waste of her time. But last night, I felt like I wasn’t.

Since becoming disabled, I have been involved in the suicide prevention community on Twitter. A good friend of mine worked with a researching in bereavement of suicide people. That person did a large research project and found that for every suicide at least 135 people are affected. Often, those who think of suicide don’t think their lives have any meaning to anyone. I feel guilty knowing that there will be at least, if not more, than 135 people who will feel the loss of my life. I often block out my family when I am most suicidal but often think about how my nieces and nephew will be after I am gone. Sometimes it is enough to keep me here. Other times, I just can’t think about it because my suicidality is too great. I hate feeling guilty. I feel like being told this is just a huge guilt trip and that you are being forced to live a life you don’t want to live because of other people. Is that how you should live? Is somehow my suffering not enough to die but the others are? People need to stop ending their lives because of the pain of others. It is just exactly like saying your pain doesn’t count. It makes me mad that these statistics are there. But to me, I feel that everyone is just that. A statistic. That all anyone is, whether you have brown hair, red hair, blue eyes, brown eyes, etc. That is why I plan. I plan and when the day comes I decide if I am going to be around or not. Yes, I could do it tomorrow, and I may. No one is telling me I have to be here. My psych wants me to be around and I am sure there are others, too. I just don’t want to be and know one day soon, I won’t.

midnight demon writes again

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

Midnight demon writes again

It is about half past midnight. I just had something to eat. I tried making myself a deep dish pizza for dinner and burned it pretty bad that it was hard as a rock. I lost my appetite and so haven’t had much to eat today. I knew if I didn’t eat, I wouldn’t be able to sleep. But turns out, pain is keeping me up anyways.

The part of my leg that is swollen has gotten bigger. The day before it was the size of my palm. Now it is the size of my hand. It for some reason, became really painful after I had stood for a while to clear out one of the shelves of my bookcase. I went on my bed to relax my back as it had started to spasm. Next thing I know my lower leg down to my foot was in such intense pain, I couldn’t breathe. I started to have an anxiety attack. I couldn’t touch my leg where it was hurting and that was a bad sign to me that made me panic even more. I just lay there trying to collect myself and grab the pain bottle to take a pill. I think that was harder as I had to move to do so. Half hour later, pain was starting to subside enough I could touch my leg and that is when I notice the swelling had spread up my leg. If I was panicked then, I was more so now. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t stand and walk anywhere as the pain was so great. Even an hour later when I had to pee it was painful going down the stairs and using the bathroom. I had talked to my niece and lost my voice. I sounded like a goddamn squirrel. No idea why. No matter how many times I cleared my throat, it sounded off. Fucking puberty.

Anyway, I talked to a Twitter friend and she wanted me to go to the ER. I texted my sister, but she wasn’t home. Fuck. There goes my ride. I wasn’t about to take the T anywhere. I took an Ativan and once that kicked in to take my anxiety away, I calmed down a bit. I also emailed my psych to let her know what was going on. I decided to try some diclofenac gel to try and ease whatever inflammation there was and see if it helped the pain. As I was ready to apply it, my psych emailed me back to keep her posted and let her know if I go to the ER. I am hoping I don’t have to because it is Easter and I will have a super long wait for something that really isn’t an emergency. I don’t have redness or broken skin oozing fluid. I just have a painful lump on my leg. I see my PCP Tues and I hope I can hold off on ER visits until then. I started thinking about this. The pain was similar to what I was experiencing prior to my dismissal from work, basically telling me I was disabled and couldn’t work. The time off gave my leg some much needed rest time. I have been walking more than I have been the past few weeks, as well as standing longer than I usually do. I also have been trying to do some balance work my PT wants me to do, which means putting some weight on my left leg. I have no idea if that aggravated the tendon that gets inflamed when I walk too much because I am compensating. I knew if I went to the ER or even an urgent care center, odds were they would just refer me to my pcp for whatever. They might do x-rays and an ultrasound to rule out a blood clot in my leg (highly unlikely) but that would be it. And the ultrasound would be on my calf, not the area where the swelling is so not useful at all. I am sure my pcp is not going to be able to figure it out and I hope that the weight loss/loss of appetite and this swelling is not related.

So the leg pain finally subsided after the diclofenac but then my veins started popping and my foot felt like it was being crushed so I was, once again, in a flare. This is day 2. My thoughts immediately went to why the fuck am I still alive. Then I think of what my psych said and I fucking hate her. Hate her because she wants me to live and she is fond of me. I looked straight at her when she told me this so I know she wasn’t bullshitting me. She genuinely meant what she said. I don’t think that I am meant to do something great. Yes, I could write another book. But goddamn it, I am not a fucking writer. Yes, I write blogs. But that is what I do because it helps me and possibly others. I know I don’t get as much feedback as I once did but fuck, my stats tell me someone reads my blog every day, even if only 8 people do.

Pain has been my nemesis. It causes me to be suicidal in an instant. Then in the morning, I am usually okay and feel better and am no longer want to end my life. But I am not at that stage right now. I am in the suicidal moment where I want to do what I want to do to end things. Except I can’t. As much as I have this fucking deep surging urge to do it, I do not want a family member to find me in that state. It is the only fucking thing keeping me alive at this time. Sure my family pisses me the fuck off so I wouldn’t care if they found me. But something, and I don’t know what, keeps me from acting on my urges. I can think about them all I want, fantasize all I want but when it comes to times like this, I am so fucking on the edge of live/die that I just get so frustrated that I don’t do fucking shit. I just ponder some more. Fantasize some more. Then I am reading a book about wills and realize I didn’t sign and date it to make it official. FUCK! I don’t remember where I put the notepad I wrote the fucking thing on. This is pure agony. The mental agony of going through living vs dying and being in so much fucking pain you want to end your life. This is the life of the midnight demon. Always until the urge to act prevails.

lots of stress

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

Lots of stress

I have been in a flare since 10 am yesterday. My malleolus (ankle bone) had been feeling like it was being smashed with a hammer. It was unreal. By like 3 pm, I had enough and took something for the pain. I had to call my psych but she said to call after 5. I didn’t want to dope myself up and be drowsy when I talked to her, so didn’t take anything else but the pain pill.

I checked my email and I had something from my long term disability (LTD) benefits. It was there yearly “are you still disabled even though we have determined you are permanently disabled” forms for my doctor to fill out. The problem is, I have a new doc that doesn’t know me or my condition with how bad the pain is. When I see him, I am not in horrendous pain, my ankle isn’t swollen, my veins are popping giving my skin a bluish color, and certainly not being affected by my sock being on. So I filled out my portion of the form. Now I am writing up a word doc of what my PCP should write in the paragraphs and then have him sign it and then fax it to where it needs to go. If he wants to add notes or medical record of events. I did put in that I had a sleep study done which shows that I wake up in pain and also that the bone scan confirmed that I had CRPS in my bones. The whole thing has caused my stress levels to increase which didn’t help my flare.

I paged my psych a little after 5. She called me like an hour later. We talked and she insisted I see my PCP as she was concerned about my losing weight. If it was because I just wasn’t eating, she was okay with that but if it is something else, he should work it out. I am to call her after the appointment to let her know how it goes and I can’t weasel my way out of it. Damn she is being stubborn with me on calling her. She has the “tone” and I have no real choice of going against it.

My pain level was still the same so after I got off the phone with her, I loaded up on meds. I took my night meds around 8 and was hoping to be asleep by 11pm. I was talking with someone on Twitter when my laptop was really hurting my leg. Last night I noticed some swelling near my shin. I have had swelling there but it was more toward the side of my leg not near the shin. And it is a good size swelling. I also have swelling just above my ankle joint that is kind of near the malleolus but above it. Add in the weight loss, and now I am nervous that something is going on. I emailed my concerns to my psych about 10 or so. 11 came and I was going to go to sleep as I was really drowsy but my damn fucking ankle said hahaha nope, not happening. Now I got medical stress on top of my other stress. I have been suicidal on and off with this flare. Mostly, I have been wishing myself dead. It hasn’t worked yet. I have no idea who has the wishing power. Maybe it is in the stars or something. I don’t know. I just know I don’t want to be here anymore but without acting on my plan at the location I prefer, it just isn’t going to happen.

Because my flare was so severe, I couldn’t have my ceiling fan on as the airwaves were bothering it. I couldn’t get comfy either, which annoyed me. If I have airwaves bothering, soundwaves were next. I needed to listen to music as I put on earbuds and the vibration went away. I had no idea how much the sound was affecting my pain. I charged up my Bluetooth headset as the earbud things are too big for my ears so kept popping out. The sucky part of the Bluetooth is that it takes around 4 hours to fully charge and does not work while plugged in, even on a wire. So I was screwed and only could use the earbuds.

bad few days

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

Bad few days

Since Saturday, I have been having back pain. I didn’t do anything as I just woke up with it. The barometric pressure has been up and down like a yo-yo and temps have been crazy as well. I know once it levels off, I should be ok. In the meantime, it is hard to move and walk. Sitting is also difficult.

My mood has sucked all week. I have been having intense suicidal urges upon awakening and throughout the day. I sent my psychiatrist the post I posted on Monday. She said it was complex. I also sent the blog to my pcp’s social worker but have not heard back from her. I just feel like I don’t want any help right now. But my psych wants to know what I am up to and things because my suicidality has peaked. She also is not letting me be. Last Friday, she wanted me to call her midweek and if I didn’t, she would call me. Yesterday, she called me after I told her I wasn’t going to call her. I had gotten into an argument with my sisters and didn’t want to speak to anyone, much less her. I just don’t see the point. I am better off alone to deal with my stuff. I somehow get through it, though this time seems to be harder than it has been in the past. I kind of do but don’t want help. I don’t want help because I don’t think it will actually help me. I think it will just frustrate me yet the ingrained sense of “reaching out” when feeling this way is hard to resist. My psychiatrist has told me that if I feel like acting, I am to call her first. That kind of defeats the whole purpose of trying to act on my feelings. God I am so confused.

Last night, it was determined that my leather chair will be removed. I paid $300 for that chair. I thought about getting rid of my uncle’s desk but now I don’t want to. Fuck my sister for wanting to get rid of my things. She has threatened me that if she cleans my room and I don’t keep it clean she will “kill me”. On the other hand, if she does try, I will break her hands. My other sister wants me to get rid of books that I haven’t used in a long time. It is my books that I spent good money for. They aren’t getting rid of or placed in the basement to get musty or worse, ruined. I had books down there and they got ruined once. I am not going to do that again.

Because of my pain, I haven’t been able to do anything to clear my room or the boxes downstairs. Now they want to me to pack the stuff in my bedroom, to put in the living room. Where the fuck this stuff is to go, I have no clue. Fucking the office stuff is taking up a good portion of the living room already. I am just so stressed out and don’t even want to do a damn thing. Also I heard my sister tell my mother that I go out and have coffee but don’t clear my things. I only go out for coffee if I have my a damn appointment. That has been the only time I leave the house! So according to her, I am to be housebound just to clear boxes and clean my room?? I am so sick of this shit. They really think that my pain is no reason why I shouldn’t clear stuff. That I must be faking my disability. Next week I am getting paid and I am so fucking tempted NOT to give a cent to my mother. Maybe then they will get a fucking clue that I live here, too. Because right now, I feel like I can’t have anything in this house except my bedroom. And I will be damned to give half of my social security check just to be locked up in it!

Well, this is the stress I am dealing with which hasn’t helped my pain at all. I need to stop right now because I need to lay down. I can no longer sit. Hope the Tylenol and Ibuprofen help my back pain.