Category: suicide

Fucking Ankle

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

Fucking ankle

I left the house today so that I could give my AC a rest from working. I finished the Adler chapter and then decided to write for a bit before catching the next bus home. Before going to the bus stop, I stopped at the meat market to get hamburgers for dinner. Everything was fine until about three stores down from the meat market. My ankle seized up and I couldn’t move it and it hurt like hell. I pretty much dragged it to the bus stop and waited for the bus. I was in such agony. I don’t understand how this could have happened as I haven’t done anything in three fucking days. The meat market wasn’t that far out of my way. It was just maybe half block away from Starbucks.

I made it home, almost in tears. It took forever for me to get up the stairs. I immediately took my pain meds soon as I got in my room before undressing and changing into my PJs. The damn coffee I drank affected my bowels soon after I tried to settle in so I had to go back down the stairs to go to the bathroom. It was torture going back up to my room. I had to stop a few times because I just couldn’t bear any weight on my foot. This is the worst it has been in a while. I had woke up in pain but thought I could work my way through it. Next time I will just stay home.

My mother cooked the hamburgers and I found that my middle sister was over the house. She was making herself a grilled cheese. We were all talking and stuff while I was in pain. The burgers were good. It was the only thing I had to eat all day. Then my sister said that she wanted to move into my office. I got pissed off. The only way she is moving into MY OFFICE is over my dead body. She will be abandoning her two kids so she could live at home. Fuck that. I am not going to be around for that shitshow. And who the hell does she think she is thinking she can just move MY STUFF so she can have a place to sleep? The nerve.

The pain meds made me kind of nauseous but now I have a migraine. Guess the meds didn’t make me sick to my stomach more than my idiotic sister did. I have to get up and get some migraine pills but I can barely stand. FUCK. I texted my therapist and told her I give her my word that if my sister does clear off my office, I will kill myself. I have never been so damn serious in my life about this. Sure, in a few weeks it won’t really matter because I will kill myself anyways but until then I still have a chance of reconsidering. Not so with this bullshit. Just put a nail in my coffin why don’t ya.

If Depression Kills and other things

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

If Depression Kills…

http://www.huffingtonpost.co.uk/entry/robin-williams-death-remembered-in-poignant-note-on-mistakes-people-make-about-mental-health_uk_57ac765ee4b08ab70dc173d1

I came across this article on Twitter as it’s the anniversary death of Robin Williams. There is also another article that is written by a friend of mine, also in the HuffPost, but I am unable to retrieve it at this time.

I posed the question that if depression kills, and I have depression and it kills me, would anyone care? I was expecting a response on Twitter but didn’t get any. On my Facebook page, I got lots of responses. One of them was from a dear friend of mine and he said that he would be devastated. I wanted to write to him and tell him that I was sorry and that eventually it will kill me. It’s only a matter of time.

I wrote to my psychiatrist. I wanted to tell her that the voices were telling me to off myself again but I didn’t want to worry her so I didn’t say that. I just needed a refill on my meds as I am running low and will be out if it’s not refilled soon. It would be dangerous for me to be without my meds, particularly my antipsychotic. I hope she calls it in soon. I had to take another trilafon because the voices are just so out of control tonight. I don’t know if that makes 2 or 3 doses that I have taken tonight. I usually put it in my app when I take the pill but I didn’t do that today. I am not a good paperwork keeper.

I was getting ready to sleep when a thunderstorm passed through. My spine immediately seized up on me. It felt like someone was twisting my lumbar vertebraes. I had to sit up because it was so uncomfortable. Now my ankle is screaming at me but I just took my pain meds so it’s just a waiting game to see when it will quiet down the screaming. I think my ankle is upset because I took a shower. It wasn’t a long shower. I timed it by listening to music and it was less than three songs, though I did end up having to clean the shower afterwards because my dirty feet made the shower floor dirty. It was driving my mother crazy. I cleaned it as best I could but couldn’t get all the dirt off the floor, even with the cleaner. Oh well.

I got hungry around 2030 so I made a tuna sandwich. Now my stomach is angry with me. I can’t win tonight. I just hope I don’t throw up. I really want to have something sweet, like Oreos, but am thinking it isn’t a good idea with my stomach being upset right now. I really want to go to sleep but I am overtired. I hate when I get like this.

Frustrated and worthless

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

I had therapy today. We talked about my suicidality and the whole burden of being in pain every single day. I told her I just feel frustrated and worthless. I also told her that the voices have been telling me to die. That lead to a conversation about how much trilafon am I taking and I told her I was rationing it because I will run out if I take more than two a day, least until my psychiatrist is back from vacation. She nearly had a stroke when I told her. I don’t really care. I told her she should just dump me and she said no. She wanted my assurance that I wouldn’t kill myself while she was away and I said “yea”. That was all I could muster.

The session took a lot out of me. I pretty much just took my pain meds and slept the rest of the afternoon. Seems to be my new normal now. It was raining fairly heavily for most of the day so I didn’t venture out. My ankle was killing me anyways. I just gave up and let the pain meds take me to Morpheus. I had a dream about my father. We were at the hospital and then he disappeared on me. When I found him, he was sitting next to my mother. Odd. I don’t remember her being at the hospital but anyways, I found him. I was really late for my appointment because of him going missing on me. Then he had to go to the bathroom so I took him. Then I woke up. This has to be the third or fourth dream I have had of my father since he died.

I still am feeling suicidal and my therapist brought up that I should probably go to the hospital if the voices are out of control. She didn’t get that I don’t fucking care anymore. I just want to die and have this so called life over with. I didn’t tell her my plans, though I stupidly admitted I had one. I am glad she is on vacation for the next two weeks. She does want me to write to her in some form while she is gone. Maybe send her a blog or two to read when she comes back. Yea, she will not read it so I am not going to send it. While I was cleaning out my “junk” hamper, I found a notebook that said “Bozo letters” and the date. I might write in that and then when I see her the end of the month, give it to her. I forgot I started it three years ago. I think the intention was to write in the notebook and then mail it to her as I wasn’t seeing her in person at the time. How I would get the notebook back, I never quite worked out.

Sometime this week I need to change my sheets again. And again I have a pile of shit on the corner of my bed. I don’t know how stuff accumulates there. It’s not office stuff. That stuff is near me at all times. It’s just a pile of prescription receipts that need to be shredded and other pieces of mail.

The PT place called this afternoon to remind me I have the appointment on Friday. I had every intention of calling back and canceling but my sleep overtook the afternoon. Now it’s too late and I need to call tomorrow morning. I just hope I am up in the morning. My track record for being up before 10 or 11 hasn’t been good lately. I didn’t even make coffee today, I was so tired. I didn’t go to sleep till around 0400. I just couldn’t sleep last night. Pain was just too bad.

exhausted from being tired

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

exhausted from being tired

It’s another night of pain so of course I am up. I am so tired and exhausted from fighting pain all the damn time. You think I would be able to sleep. Lately, I have been taking my pain meds with coffee to fight off the drowsiness effect of the pills. I do this to avoid sleeping all day but then I have nights, like tonight, where I can’t sleep.

I have been thinking more about my plan. I have been crying most of the night because I know I will be hurting everyone around me and then some. I keep having this argument in my head of what my therapy session will be like tomorrow. I told my therapist in a text I was done. That things were over. I was half expecting a response but I didn’t get one. Then I texted her that I would have cancelled session but it was too late to do so. I told her I might not be in the mood to talk, pretty much like I was today.

I don’t really know when I will go through with my plan. I know it’s not going to be this week because it’s too damn hot. I want the weather to be cooler as the place that I have chosen is outdoors. I thought about writing a will tonight but I was too tearful. All day I have been tearful, which is weird because it takes so much for me to cry. I guess the pain has finally broken me down.

My sister texted me earlier about a party they are having for my uncle. I guess she was inviting me to go. But I hate going over there because that means an all day affair and I really don’t want to spend more than a couple of hours at my cousins. I will just be bored. I can be bored at home. Besides, more than a few hours sitting or standing for any length of time always brings me more pain in my leg. Sorry Uncle Bob but I can’t see you because my pain is too great. Just another reason for me to off myself.

I kind of feel like I should hang around till after the election to find out who will win. Trump made a huge blunder today and his supporters are all covering for him saying “he didn’t mean it that way”. Like hell he didn’t. Then he tweeted saying “what he meant to say”, which made no fucking sense. It was an outright lie. Yet he has the audacity to call Clinton a liar. My vote won’t count because I’ll be fucking dead. I know I definitely don’t want to be around for the shitshow when the baby loses nor be around should he win. The country will be going to hell and war. Such a sad state of affairs and then they wonder why the suicide rate is so high. I think there was another suicide tonight on the red line. There was a medical emergency that called for shuttle bus services so I can only guess there was a jumper.

It’s a strange feeling when you have the power to end your life whenever you want to. I know that I could go to the hospital but for what exactly? Hospitals haven’t exactly proven to save lives, not when it comes to suicide anyway. They usually precipitate a suicide. The only regret that I have is that I won’t be finishing my reading challenge for the year. I was so looking forward to reading at least 40 books this year and unless I spend every waking moment reading in the next few weeks, I just don’t see it happening. I have 25 books to go. I have no idea what will become of the books I do have. Some of them are brand spanking new. I suppose they can be donated to the library. I know that my suicide books I want donated to my therapist. She should have a suicide library. It won’t be doing me any good anymore.

I keep thinking about how to tell my psychiatrist goodbye. That is going to be tough and tricky. I have known her longer than I have known my therapist. I have written her multiple goodbye letters over the course of my suicidality. I never once gave her any of them. The last email that I sent her that was sort of a goodbye she sectioned me so I have been cautious about giving her letters such as these. I give too soon and I could be found and hospitalized against my will.

I have noticed a pattern over the years. Every year between August through October I become wicked suicidal, more so than at any other time of year. It has been going on since I was a teenager. Back then, you could expect to be admitted for months. Now you are lucky to be admitted for more than a week. This time, I am not going to be admitted, I am just going to follow through with my ideas. I am tired of living. I am tired of being in severe physical pain. I am too complex to be taken seriously by my practitioners. My therapist said with bated breath today that she loved me. I could tell it wasn’t really true because she really hesitated before saying it. It was like she had to prepare herself to say it quickly so to get it out of the way. I will miss her. I know my death will destroy her but I can’t help that. I tried to get her to get rid of me years ago but she still held on. It’s her fault it will hurt. I told her she could leave at any stage of the game. Now the game is over, I’m afraid. Stalemate.