Category: suicide

Love of Cousins

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

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Love of cousins

Yesterday, I went over my cousins that I haven’t seen in a long time. Usually we see each other for special birthdays or some other special occasion. We don’t see each other often enough. One of my cousins gave me a special gift yesterday. I am now the owner of a replica World Series ring of the 2013 Boston Red Sox! I am wearing it as I type this. It is heavy. But I love it just the same. I nearly had a coronary in the car when my cousin gave me the ring. She knows I love the Red Sox very much. I have more Red Sox things than I have any other Boston sports team. I own just one Patriots hat. I lost interest in the Celtics when Larry Bird retired (more than twenty years ago) and I don’t care for hockey. All I know about the Bruins is what I read on Twitter or Facebook. But the Sox to me are special. I have been a fan since I was a little kid and that hasn’t changed. Even when they suck, I still love them. My cousin knows this. I will always treasure this gift. I might not wear it publicly, only because it is huge and heavy, but I will wear it in the house.

I slept late today, a rarity. I woke up around 0530 and miraculously, I was able to get back to sleep around 0600. Yesterday was a difficult for me, mostly last night. I feel like I am a failure in my mother’s eyes because I don’t do much around the house. I would try but I know that it hurts so I don’t. My mother telling my cousin that I was basically a lazy ass did not sit well with me. My cousin wasn’t judging me at all. She knows that I suffer from chronic pain and she knows a little something about it because she has fibro.

Last night I was in bad shape. My mother got me very upset. I think between the sleep deprivation and being up all day, I was more vulnerable to her attacks. Normally she doesn’t get under my skin. I really wanted to die last night. I even thought of going in the hospital just to get away from her. But I feel now that will be giving in to her suspicions that I am not well. And that will infuriate her. She doesn’t get my mental illness at all. She thinks I should just let things roll off my back or not think about things. Even more damaging, she thinks I should “talk” to her. I tried talking to her when I was 10 and suicidal. I got no response. So why should I try talking to her now? She doesn’t understand my pain, my depressions, my insomnia. None of it. Hell, she didn’t even want to read my book that I wrote. I don’t even know if she read the New York Times article I wrote. If that isn’t a shun, I don’t know what is.

I need to go to Walgreens to pick up my prescription today. I really don’t feel like leaving the house. It’s cold, damp, and raw outside. Of course, what do you expect in November? The days of it being warm are over. I am not in pain at the moment. But I am afraid that if I walk to and back might cause my ankle to hate me. I really need to get PJs that I can also wear outside. I have sweat pants but it’s the idea of getting dressed that stresses me out. I hate the indecision of picking something to wear, of which socks to wear. I am glad I only have one good pair of sneakers otherwise I doubt I would never leave the house. I would never decide which pair to choose from. Some days it’s easier to just throw something on and leave the house. But days like today, I am dreading it. I just want to listen to Adele and Eric Church and just stay under the covers.

My menses are slowing down. I am going to ask the pharmacist, if I do go to Walgreens, if I can restart the pack today. Course, that will mean I have four pills that I just am not using. I never should have stopped mid-week but I had no choice. I really didn’t want two weeks of bleeding. Just talking about this makes me feel so low. I feel so degraded. I know no woman looks forward to that time of the month but it’s different when you are transgender. I have put up with so much. I just wish I was dead so I don’t have to deal with this at all anymore. I feel so alone. Other than my blog, there is no one I can really “bitch” to about this. I know that this particular mense breakthrough has caused increased suicidality more so than at any other time. It’s just so difficult. Other than my sisters, I haven’t really told a “real” person about my TG. My therapist and my psychiatrist know but they are not people I see every day. But then, there are no people that I see everyday other than my family. I feel so isolated. I know part of it is my own doing. I don’t reach out to people. I could blame my paranoia, especially now as things have kicked up a notch since the Paris attacks. I just don’t feel safe anymore. And I don’t even think being on a locked ward of a hospital will help.

Tolerating depression and suicide

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

Been reading “Suicide as Psychache” by my buddy Edwin Shneidman. He is such a verbose writer. And he uses obscure words. Reading it is like swallowing a dictionary. I just read a section that deals with highly suicidal persons in psychotherapy. He describes how to lower the perturbation and lethality to keep the person alive. As I was reading this, I was thinking about the first responders and police officers who deal with suicidal situations all the time. Their judgement must be quick. They don’t have the time to pull out a piece a paper and write down the reasons of their perturbations. They just have to quiet down the person enough to take them to the hospital for possible treatment, assuming the suicide was in progress when they approached. It is different than what goes on in the private office of the therapist.

I also have been thinking about my own suicidality. It’s hard not to when you are reading a book about the subject. I know I want to die. But as Shneidman states, death is always inevitable, so why rush it? I feel like I don’t want to get older. My birthday is coming up and I just cannot bear it. It has never been a source of joy in my adult years. I always dread it. It will be taking place in a little over a month. My therapist keeps on harping on the frustrated needs that I have that are pushing me to my death. It isn’t all about my needs that are pushing me to my death. I feel like I am not making a difference anymore. I hardly have any friends that I talk to on a regular basis. People think of me and I think of them but no contact happens.

Today I will be visiting my cousin’s wife. She is the wife of my Godfather who I was thinking of last week as it was his birthday. I will be going with my other cousins that I am close to. One of them is sympathetic to my depressions and suicidal states. The other is not so sympathetic. We have about a 45 min to an hour drive to see my Godfather’s wife. The ride is going to be interesting. I am nervous about this. I am not in a suicidal state, so that is good. But I am depressed. I know that I will put on my “happy” face so that I don’t worry them as we take this long drive.

I wish my menses would stop but I am still in the middle of the cycle. I so want to go back to wearing boxers. My cousins don’t know that I am transgender. It’s just not something we talk about. But then there are a lot of things we don’t talk about. One of my cousins just became a grandmother so I guess we will be talking about that for most of the ride. I have yet to meet the grandbaby. I hope I do someday. I am not that close to my “little” cousins as I once was. It’s hard when you don’t have a car. But it’s also hard when you don’t get invited to events in their lives.

I still feel empty inside, like I got nothing inside me. My heart is heavy. Nothing tastes good. I found an article about an antidiabetic medication that helps with depression. I passed it along to my pdoc to see if this med might work for me. It’s supposedly good for those with insulin resistance and I also have that. I hope my pdoc considers it. I will take anything that will help me at this point. If it will help fill this void that is called my life, I will try it. I haven’t looked into the drug. I will when my pdoc gives the okay to take it. I will look at the side effects and such. All I have been doing lately is tolerating my depression and suicidality. It’s all I can do lately.

Quote of the Day 21 Nov 2015

by Midnight Demon, posted in Bipolar Disorder, blogging, depression, mental disorders, mental illness, mood disorders, psychache, Quotes, suicidality, suicide

Most suicide is a dreary and dismal wintry gale within the mind, where the vital issue that is being debated is whether to try to stay afloat in a stormy life or willfully to go under to nothingness. Edwin Shneidman, Suicide as Psychache

Quote of the Day 20 Nov 2015

by Midnight Demon, posted in Bipolar Disorder, depression, mental disorders, mental illness, mood disorders, psychache, Quotes, suicidality, suicide

A burnt out person whose whole life was a kind of chronic suicide, a living death, a life without ambition seemingly without purpose–Edwin Shneidman, Suicide as Psychache