Category: suicide

Suicide and other things

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

I have so much going on in my head tonight that it’s making it hard to sleep. My sister called me a girl tonight and it really hurt me. I thought she understood about the transgender stuff but I guess not. I didn’t correct her. I was too ashamed. It set me off in a suicidal space. I just keep thinking about how I should be dead. I came really close to killing myself the other night. I know I didn’t attempt to do it but I really wanted to. And it was scary to me that I could have done it. Hell I can do it now but I don’t know what is stopping me.

I canceled therapy for the week. I just can’t bear to talk about this with anyone, except my blog. She called me man when she told me she was giving me the okay to cancel. She said under the “new approach” I don’t have to have a reason to cancel. I want to cancel next week but I think that will be pushing it. I just don’t feel like I am being effective in therapy anymore. We talk about stuff but I feel like it’s not enough. I still get depressed. I am still suicidal. I just don’t want to be anymore.

It’s hard when you are in the wrong body. I know I haven’t talked about this in a while. Mostly because it hasn’t really bothered me. But tonight when I got a message from my sister, it hurt. I will never be seen as the man my mind thinks I am. I know I will feel better when I get my haircut. Right now I feel like I am a chia pet as my hair is all over the place. When I see my psychiatrist today, I am going to ask her if she thinks I am a guy or a girl. I need her input because her opinion means so much to me.

I keep thinking about suicide. I try not to but it’s back and it’s there and there isn’t nothing I can do to stop the thoughts. I know there are hotlines I can call or text to talk about it but I am tired of seeking help. I just want to die. I can’t stand myself anymore. I am tired of being called “daughter” and “sister” and “miss”. It’s just so not me.

There is a conference going on in Chicago right now. I want to be there because it’s always loaded with information about suicide prevention and it always helps me feel better because it gives me hope. It helps me to realize that there are others like me who is interest in the study of suicide. Though I have a different agenda. I use the information to either affirm that I should be dead or use the information to help me get better. Like CAMS is a useful tool. I use it in my therapy and it has helped me over and over again. If I didn’t belong to the organization, I never would have known about this framework and I probably would be dead. Course, at the rate things have been going, I could still be headed toward pushing up daisies. Just use me as fertilizer. I am good for nothing else.

Hope is a tricky thing. It can either make you or break you. I have been increasingly hopeless this past week. I have been trying to hold on to it but it’s so slippery and keeps slipping through my fingers. It’s like a bar of soap when you shower. Now matter how much you try to grab it, it still falls to the floor. You know it’s there but you just can’t hold on to it. And it just increases your depression.

sleeplessness, suicide, and other things

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

I took my night meds because I was feeling sleepy. Then I experienced some side effects. I think it was most likely withdrawal as I haven’t taken a pain med since last night. So I took one pill and now I am awake. I am listening to music and it’s keeping me awake. I know I should shut it off and try and get some sleep but I am not tired anymore. I hate when I wake up. It’s after midnight.

I started writing a blog/essay about my experience with dealing with the suicidality of the night before. I got to less than 200 words and gave up. I should have hand wrote it. Now the thoughts have escaped me. I hate when that happens. I really wanted to include it in my book.

The American Association of Suicidology will be having their annual conference in a couple days time. People are already meeting up and the conference doesn’t officially start until Thursday. I just care about what Jobes says. I hope he doesn’t have a pre conference workshop. I won’t be by my laptop Wednesday because I have an appointment with my psych. I also emailed her about my “episode”.

What strikes me about this episode is that there was no trigger other than intense psychache. My heart was being torn apart in a million pieces and I just wanted to die. I had the means to die. I just had to act but I didn’t. No one would know why I attempted to kill myself. I am not so sure either. I know I didn’t want to die in my room, not where someone close to me would find me. I never would be trusted again with my pills. And I am 40 years old to be treated like a child would be such an insult.

I honestly don’t know what would happen if I attempted and didn’t succeed in my house. That is something that I really don’t want to find out. I didn’t do anything to harm myself last night, as intense as the feelings were. And it seemed like they only lasted about ten minutes before they dissipated as fast as they appeared. I held out, again. My only question is, what about next time? Will I be so lucky, if that is the word to use?

In twelve hours I will find out if my therapist will honor my cancellation of our appointment. There has been no indication from her whether she will call me or not. So I am left wondering. I gave her plenty of time to cancel, more than 24 hours. But I don’t know if the blog that I sent her will void the cancellation. She will do that sometimes. I guess that is part of the reason why I can’t sleep. I am too worried about the what ifs. If she doesn’t call, I can leave my house earlier and get my Starbucks. I can also get my letter from my new PCP for my loan documentation that I need.

I continued the rant on Twitter about how the NP dismissed my depression as “stress”. I have never felt so offended before in my life. Stress is not something that causes depression or make you lose weight, your appetite, lose sleep, and feel worthless. I had all the physical symptoms of depression and she dismissed them. I can’t trust her anymore, not with my depression anyways. I have to keep the elephant in the room quiet now. I miss my old PCP. He understood. He was one of a kind. And the institution where he worked lost a great physician.