Category: suicide

my stupid advice

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

My stupid advice

Whenever someone is feeling bad about something and I know it’s more than just the “blues”, I often tell them to seek out professional help. But if I took my own advice, where has that gotten me exactly? There are a million therapists out there, all with different degrees and modes of therapy. You often have to see a few to get chemistry with someone for it to be effective. I saw 11 by the time I was 25. And here it is, 16 years later and I might have to see therapist number 14. It’s getting old. I feel that I should be better by now or that I should have at least feel like I “cured” myself by some magic. I read enough about therapy to know what works and what doesn’t. Doesn’t that count for something?

I have seen psychiatrists, social workers, psychologists, and a psychiatric nurse working toward a doctorate. I can’t really say which profession was the best because they all left me before I could form an opinion on the matter and it hurt too bad. But the one that I am in now, the one with a psychologist, worked out pretty good until things just fizzled out. I think I just became too “smart” for her and she couldn’t keep up. She tried for a while until she realized she couldn’t anymore, that it was hindering my therapy. And now what to do?

The thought of starting over isn’t appealing to me. I really don’t want to go through the process. It’s difficult when you are already used to someone. I have read a lot about suicide yet it still eludes me. I want to act on my feelings of it yet I am still here. I know seeing someone new will have a great burden taking me on. I don’t know if they are willing to take that risk. I don’t know if I am either.

Someone I knew a long time ago and still do took my advice and is still alive today because she took it. She is grateful that I saved her life because she listened to me. I remember she was at a crucial period in her life. She was diagnosed as bipolar and at the time, I wrote a lot about the disorder. I told her she needed to see someone and be on meds to help herself. She is still alive because she took that advice. So sometimes, I don’t give out stupid advice. I just wish I could help myself. I have a great psychiatrist but for things to work in my disorder, you also need a therapist. I have yet to find one that is on the same page as me. I am too smart for my own good. And now another therapist is leaving because of it. Some advice giver I am.

random 154

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

Random 154

I went to bed at a decent hour because the meds knocked me out. Then I woke up at 0100 and went to sleep two hours later. I had enough and sent my psychiatrist an email. I asked her how I was to get to the unit she wants me on. She is trying to get me a bed for tomorrow or Wednesday. I haven’t done much today except sleep. I planned on making myself something to eat around noon but that didn’t happen. I ended up falling asleep and not waking up until my mother called asking me what I wanted for dinner. She made fish and chips. Then I had a couple of muffins and toast. Now I am full.

I haven’t texted my therapist all day. The last text I sent her was last evening saying I was “high”. I have no idea why I texted her that. I was loopy as anything from the strong pain meds. It was like I was drunk but I hadn’t been drinking. I hate that feeling.

It snowed today. I must have missed the weather report on Twitter. I had no idea there was snow in the forecast. Seems this week is going to be shitty. I just hope that I can get to where I need to go without delays. I need to take a shower and cut my fingernails. Hate doing both, but it needs to happen. I also got to check my bag to see if I have T-Shirts. I don’t remember if I packed them or not. All these little details that go into an admission. I hate it. There is no guarantee that I will have my phone. I have no idea what kind of unit they have as I have never been on it. First time for everything, I guess.

Other than the blog world, I haven’t told anyone but one friend that I am going in the hospital. I am glad that I am going to one in Boston rather than the other hospital I went to in May. It’s just more convenient transit wise. My doc said that I might have to go through the ER to get a bed. I don’t know what they will do for me, but at least I won’t have my medication, all of them, at my disposal 24/7.

Man, I started this blog a half hour ago and took my pain meds. Now I am feeling the effects of it. I’m ready to go back to sleep. Least I am not in as much pain as I was. I think the strong pain pill broke the cycle of severe pain that I was in. I am glad because it was driving me crazy. I don’t take the pill every day or even every other day. Just when I can’t stand the pain anymore or the regular pain pill isn’t working. If I had known the meds were going to work this quickly, I would have waited a little longer.

I’m hoping my psych gets back to me before my therapy appointment and tells me to go to the hospital so I don’t have therapy. I really don’t want to talk to my therapist. Least being in the hospital will give me a much needed break from her. I know she will be happy not to have sessions with me. I am sure my suicidality has given her nightmares.

Saturday Baking and other things

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

Saturday Baking and other things

I had left over cranberries from my cranberry cake and wanted to use them. I made muffins. It took me a fricken an hour to make. My back and ankle are not happy with me right now. I got a wave of the tireds when I started writing this and had to lie down. I thought I was going to sleep through the night so I set my timer for fifteen minutes so I wouldn’t fall into a deep sleep as I had to do the clean up. Fifteen minutes rolled around and I didn’t want to get up, just like I knew I wouldn’t. I forced myself up and went back to the kitchen where my mother was making dinner. She cleared some dishes by putting them in the dishwasher and left me basically all the cooking stuff that I had used. I washed them and got injured. The food processing blade got my finger. I forgot how sharp that sucker is. Then I had dinner. After dinner, I had to try a muffin and they came out good. I ate about three of them. They weren’t that big as I thought they would be. The Neurontin has given me hungry horrors today so I have been eating like mad.

After dinner, I just goofed off on Facebook. Found an article that stated the CDC basically lied about the opioid controversy in their studies by excluding studies that should have been included, according to the authors of the study I read. It was all over my head so I read what I could then went back to looking at videos and pics and memes. God, does Facebook have memes. I hate memes. Some of them are funny but after you seen them once, they lose interest when you see the same pics a thousand times, but with different sayings. I just don’t get the appeal. And my biggest peeve is when they say the quote as their status and then show the damn meme with the quote! WTF. Be original for crying out loud. Twitter does the same thing. Makes me want to take a cyber holiday.

Ohio and Nebraska didn’t have football games this week. I don’t think the season is done because other teams are still playing but I think it’s coming down to the wire who is going to play who in the bowls. There hasn’t been an official schedule yet but I hope it’s soon.

Other than baking, that is all I have done today. It was enough because I am totally wiped out. My ankle and foot are having a battle right now as to who is going to hurt more. I think ankle is going to win. But it doesn’t matter because I have meds. So take that!

I’m still thinking about going into the hospital. As annoying as it will be with med schedules and groups and dealing with potential idiot doctors/social workers, it would be nice not have to worry about whether I will OD every single night. Last night I came very close to taking more meds than I should. I don’t even know what set me off, though it doesn’t take much to set me off these days. A flare up, bad words with my mother, no cream for my coffee. Little things that normally won’t piss me off will suddenly push me off the edge. Maybe I need the safety to be watched and have check ins with people who may or may not give a shit about you. The only thing that will be a bitch is not having my pain medication at my disposal. I might not exactly wait six hours for my next dose but the hospital will, to the exact next minute I am supposed to take it. I can’t take it a minute earlier. The med computer system won’t even dispense the drug unless it’s within the time frame for the next dose. Sucks.

My aunt died this morning. She had been battling breast cancer for numerous years. She had one breast remove and then was in remission for a long time when it came back probably like ten years or so. It spread and she had been going for chemo and radiation, the works. Now she doesn’t have to fight anymore. She was a nice woman but god help you if you got on her bad side. My sister said that she and my father are probably talking up a storm, that is if she let you get a word in edge wise. She was a talker. She will be missed.

No Hospital

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

No Hospital

I met my new PCP. I really like him. I had to correct him on a few things in my history but for the most part, he got things right. Unfortunately, he had no new news for me as to why my ankle hurts, which I didn’t expect him to. He has agreed to treat my pain and the best news is that I don’t have to see him every fricken month for a script. I can ask electronically and then pick it up, which is easier than mailing! We talked about my weight and he said the thing was portion control and making a few cuts to the diet. I told him I switch drinking mochas to having espresso with soy milk. He liked that idea. I told him my appetite varies with the depression. He was understanding. He didn’t go into a frenzy when I brought up my suicidal thoughts. He felt I was covered with a psychiatrist. He did ask if I ever overdosed on my medication and I said no. I will never do so. I didn’t have to give a reason as he was satisfied with that answer.

He gave me a tetanus shot because I was overdue for one, which was fine. He asked me if I wanted a flu shot and I said no. I don’t like them. The last one I was sick for two weeks and refused to go through that again. I am glad he didn’t want to do anything special about my pain like send me to a new doc or something. He does want me to look into CBT as a way to help with my depression and pain cycle. Dude doesn’t know me so I will let that pass. Even my psychiatrist was like it is not going to work for you. So I have that going for me. DBT might be the short term fix. We’ll see.

After the appointment, I headed over to my psychiatrist’s building and waited as I had an hour to kill. She sent me an email around 1 asking if I could see her at 4 because she was tied up at the dentist. I said sure. At this point, I still didn’t know if she wanted me to go in the hospital and I forgot two things I absolutely needed if I was going in tonight so I went home to get them. While I was home, I relaxed a bit and took a pain pill. I should have taken a trilafon but I fucking forgot. I got to use an app to remember to take it as I keep missing doses. I decided to pack a little overnight bag just in case my psych wanted me admitted. I packed some stuff and then left for the bus. It was fucking late and I was afraid I would be late for my appointment. I got there with ten minutes to spare.

She apologized for having to reschedule. I told her it was no problem. Seems she forgot what we talked about yesterday and the hospital was out of her mind. SCORE. We talked about the new PCP and she read his note while I was talking. By this point, I was getting edgy because I hadn’t eaten anything since 0900 and the waiting room got on my nerves. She is a child psychiatrist so the waiting room was full of kids. I was starting to feel paranoid and regretted not taking the trilafon when I was home.

I told her how anxious I was because I haven’t eaten and she apologized for keeping me out so late. I told her it was okay. I didn’t mind the delay. She asked what I felt because it didn’t appear to her that I was agitated. I explained how I felt and then got into describing how CBT isn’t going to work for me because there is no linear pattern to my pain. What causes it to hurt today, won’t cause it to hurt tomorrow. I didn’t bring up the hospital and she didn’t mention anything about the carryon bag I had with me. I wasn’t in the mood to be admitted. I just wanted to go home and put my feet up. I see her in two weeks and I got my trilafon order right. She gave me refills too, and I was happy. Now I just got to remember to take the suckers.

I got home to the Square and went to Chipotle. I wanted a burrito. It was quite messy and I got guacamole on my sweatshirt. I was starving and ate the whole thing. I made sure to clean my face and hands as best I could. Then I waited forever for the next bus. I stood because I didn’t feel like sitting. I knew either way I was going to hurt. My right Achilles started hurting while I was waiting. I went to the pharmacy to pick up my scripts. The trilafon wasn’t ready yet so I had to wait. My mother called me while I was waiting, wondering when I was going to come home. She made dinner for me but I told her I ate out. She got mad. Oh fucking well. She made spareribs, not my favorite meal. It can be her lunch tomorrow.