Category: writing

random 432

by Midnight Demon, posted in bipolar, blogging, cauda equina syndrome, chronic physical pain, depression, writing

Seeing as I am up and will soon take a nap, I thought I would write a little bit. My day has been productive. I went to my niece’s school to drop off her violin and then went shopping for my powerade. I underestimated how heavy the load will be. I know I am going to be sore tomorrow. And I just realized, I never wrote a blog for yesterday. Guess I will have to write one later, if I feel up to it.

I had therapy yesterday morning. I was really sleepy for most of the day. I actually slept most of the afternoon as I wasn’t feeling well. Bozo was in rare form yesterday. She still wanted me to write an affirmation blog about myself. She should know by now that I never write about myself, least not in a positive way. I just am not comfortable with it. I had an anxiety attack while talking with her about it. I don’t know why I got nervous talking to her. She then said that it was because of “conflict” that I was having the anxiety. I don’t know what that means. We talked about how I felt like I was letting her down by not doing this assignment. I nearly almost always, do what ever her little brain thinks of. But I have a problem with this assignment because I don’t think I am a valued member of society anymore. I feel rotten. All I feel is down and depressed. Nothing really helps my mood. I thought the antidepressant was working but I think it stopped. I don’t even know if it is doing anything but keep the weight on me.

It is cold in my room and it is going to get colder. I still haven’t removed the AC in my room. It is probably still wet from all the rain yesterday so I really don’t want to bring it in until it dries. I hate feeling cold, even though I love it better than heat. I rather be cold than hot, but not freezing cold! I have to put on slipper socks because my feet are getting really cold and my ankle is already whining.

I watched the CMA awards today. I didn’t turn into a Miranda Lambert night as I thought it was going to be. Kasey Musgraves won and the entertainer of the year award was presented by Garth Brooks, won by Luke Bryan and I cried tears of joy, literally. I was so happy for him. And it was great seeing Garth again. I miss seeing him on stage. I hope he will come back to Boston soon. I would surely love to see his concert. I also love the fact that people actually counted how many dresses Carrie Underwood wore during the show. It is too funny. I am like who cares or she changed again, big deal!

I should have made coffee today. I am so tired that I can go to sleep. I don’t know why I have been so tired lately. Last night, I was all achy and felt like I was catching a cold or something. Today, I am just sleepy. Probably from hauling all that powerade home. But I am set for the week and I was glad it was on sale for less than a dollar. I got more for my money, though I really wanted to buy some oatmeal so I could make oatmeal pancakes. I used the last of it and my mother nor I have not replaced it. She did buy the individual packets of oatmeal but they are flavored so I can’t really cook with them. So frustrating because I love the pancakes. It is such and easy recipe, much like the one my mother makes. Actually if you take out the oatmeal and add another ½ cup of flour, you will have the original pancake recipe. But looks like my mother is making pasta with sauce tonight. Maybe I can get her to make pancakes tomorrow morning.

I sent my therapist my last blog post and she didn’t read it. I was going to ask her if she did, but I knew from our conversation that she didn’t. I don’t know why that bothers me but it does. I know she probably didn’t check her messages before we spoke, which is most likely the case. I wanted her to know how bad I was doing and my explanation of why I couldn’t do her assignment. I am not doing it out of deviance. I really think that I have no positive qualities worth writing about other than being smart. But being smart only gets you so far.

I have not been to Starbucks in almost three weeks now. I really need to get back to my routine of leaving the house and getting coffee every day. I knew buying coffee for home was going to make me more of a hermit than I was expecting. Some days I don’t even make coffee. I don’t really “need” it but it is nice to have at home. As long as I have cream, I am all set. I will try and go out tomorrow. I miss the atmosphere and the smell of coffee being grounded. Nothing beats that smell. My coffee still smells like being freshly grounded. It’s so hard going out because I no longer have a coffee that I like at Starbucks and my latte drinks are really expensive now that I can’t really stand paying nearly 5 bucks for one. But I know they are expensive because milk isn’t cheap anymore.

in so much pain

by Midnight Demon, posted in chronic physical pain, depression, suicide, writing

I don’t normally write these types of blogs. But dammit, I am in so much pain that I just don’t know what else to do but write. It started when I got home from my appointment, around 3 pm. I didn’t walk too much, except to get my haircut down the street from the hospital. I just don’t know why my pain meds are failing me. Usually they work and I should be sleeping by now. I am listening to music to distract myself because I am staring at the bottle of my pills and thinking about just emptying it. It will harm me, there is no doubt. Might even kill me as I took my night meds as well. I just have to get through the next hour so that the meds can work. I have tried going to sleep or snoozing but I just can’t get comfortable. my foot is throbbing so bad.

I really want to talk to someone yet i don’t. I have had enough of trying to talk to people today. If my psychiatrist doesn’t get it then I doubt anyone will. I just feel like no one believes me anymore when I say that I am in pain. Course I act like a “normal” person. No one can see the hurt. No one else feels the hurt. I don’t even have a limp. I might drag my foot but that would be it. But right now, I am not doing anything but sitting on my bed, having my foot up, resting as comfortably as I possibly can. But it’s not enough because I am still in pain. My foot is not swollen, least not as I can see. But it hurts like a SOB. I really hate feeling like my world is ending because of this pain. I know it should be getting better but it’s not. It feels like it is getting worse. I have to wait two weeks for my new doc appointment to find out what is wrong with my foot. I bet you 100 bucks that they find nothing wrong with it! That will just about kill me, I swear. I see my psychiatrist the week before my appointment. I am going to tell her that if they don’t find anything wrong with it, I am done seeing doctors and I am done with life. There is no reason for me to go on if i am going to be in pain all the time. This just sucks so bad.

I don’t know what my therapist is going to say. I texted her that I was thinking of emptying the bottle. I doubt I will get a response. I never get a response from her. I get frustrated with her, too. I am just in agony and no one knows about it, except for you, the blogger world and internet. But will anyone care that I am in horrendous pain? I doubt it. I am just so tired, exhausted, of dealing with this pain all the time. Sure it is worse at night. At night I battle it more. I don’t know why that is. No one knows why that is. I guess because I am at rest? but that doesn’t make any sense! I shouldn’t be in pain if I am at rest!! I should take some neurontin. Maybe what I am feeling is nerve pain, not physical pain and that is why the pain medication isn’t working. I don’t know. I really don’t want to get up again to get more pills. I am tired of taking pills. I take so many pills for different conditions. One for this, another for that. It is so redundant. Yet without these pills, I can’t function properly.

I don’t want to die right now. Yet I don’t want to live either. It is such a conundrum. I just want the pain to stop. I don’t think that is too much to ask for?? I really feel like no one understands the pain that I am in. If they did, they would try and help me more. I get to see one more doctor for the same condition that i have had for the last three years. I thought that the AFO would have helped me but no, it is making things worse. Yet if I don’t walk with it, I am in more pain than without it. I know I am probably feeling sorry for myself. But if I don’t, who is?

Games, mindwise and otherwise

by Midnight Demon, posted in blogging, suicide, writing

Games, mindwise and otherwise

So, I joined a group for my Facebook game, Pioneer Trail, because some of the neighbors are no longer player out of my 125 people. I got new neighbors that play actively. But I still have not received my stuff that I need. I am behind in my missions because I was in the hospital. Still not up to speed with the current missions. And today I got really pissed off because I found out you needed to complete a mission inside a mission to get the stuff you need. I stopped playing and just collected rewards off other people. It was easier to do this than send out the stuff I needed in return.

I then had therapy in the afternoon. I would have preferred lunch with my aunt. My therapist read the blog I posted that had another “alter” and boy, did we talk about this for some time. She wanted me to read the paragraph to her and I wanted nothing more to do with the letter. I told her the handwriting didn’t change, but, it sort of did. I wrote a journal entry prior to writing the letter and the handwriting was different than that of the journal. The letter’s handwriting was more sloppy than that of the journal. AND the last thing I wrote was “good night” in Italian. I remember writing most of the letter except the last paragraph. That last paragraph has my mind going in directions I didn’t think were possible. My therapist thinks that it was a part of myself that is angry with her, and she is okay with it. But my “core self” is not okay with it. I hate losing control like I did. And then the fact I slept soundly afterwards is a little bizarre, to me anyways. My therapist thinks it was a way to access the different parts of me through my writing. I just think it is one big game. And at the end of it, my alter is going to succeed in killing me. I thought, up until now, I just had one, Mr. Hyde. Now that I have this unnamed alter inside and it is a he. There were crazy circumstances that allowed this to happen. One, I was on heavy pain medication. Two, I was exhausted from being up very early in the morning. Three, I had lack of sustenance for most of the day. (I didn’t eat anything after I had my mocha that morning.) So all of this seems to factor in. Today I didn’t eat much, except for dinner. I skipped lunch because I just wasn’t hungry. The 4th factor was that my annoyance level was high and I was angry because of dealing with my father that day that didn’t go the way I wanted it to. I had expected to spend no more than twenty minutes for his blood draw and it was almost an hour. That lead to my further blood sugar withdrawal. It was also hot that day, and I tend to be cranky in the heat. I just cannot tolerate it. Add all these factors in, no wonder I needed an escape of some sort and that alter wanted so badly to be let out. But I mistook it for Hyde. I even said in the letter, here is Hyde. But NONE of the writing was his. It was not a suicidal letter/paragraph. It was just someone screaming at my therapist that he was in charge and that you have to let her go, something to that effect. It also spoke of my transgender issues, stating that my therapist should give up the nonsense of calling me a him. Even as I am writing this, I am getting scared it might come out again. The rule that was drilled into me when I was younger was that what went on in the house, stayed in the house. I wasn’t to let anyone know of what was going on. I acted like the man of the house because I was the oldest, and I took this responsibility seriously. Unfortunately, my sisters were not the “good” ones like I was in school. They had their own agendas. They still do.

What troubles me is that I now have displayed a couple of alters while writing. It scares me that this is an outlet for them because it is possible for them to come out when I least expect it to. I think I have some control but what if I lose that control? I haven’t discussed this with my therapist but I think she can agree that my “core self” is in control the majority of the time. It is only when I “choose” to let loose the alter that it comes out. But then I worry about dissociating. That is a different set of rules. The only time I can clearly recall dissociating was last year when I “lost” a few hours and blogged something without my knowledge of it. I blamed Hyde because it was suicidal in nature. I call Hyde, Hyde because it is the “evil” side of me, the dark side that no one sees. It is a benign side, I know it won’t hurt me but it might if let loose for too long. Being suicidal is just too unpredictable. Words can take action very quickly.
My therapist wants me to “embrace” this other side of me. She is curious about it. I just wonder if we were meeting face to face if this person would come out more. It really is hard to predict. I didn’t know this one existed until last week. It was scary. I rather not have this side come out again. But only if I am writing. If it wants to write, I guess I could let it out and write. Just as long as I go to sleep afterwards.

Mockingbird won’t sing

by Midnight Demon, posted in bipolar, blogging, chronic physical pain, depression, mood disorders, suicidality, writing

Mockingbird won’t sing

I spoke to my therapist about my pw protected blog. It is about my coming out as a transgender. She liked it and recommended that I send it to my psychiatrist. I have no intention of doing so because I just think it will be a waste of my pdoc’s time. I know she enjoys my writing but sending her something she already knows seems redundant to me. We had already discussed this (TG issues) when I saw her last. I took down the blog but have it saved in my trash bin, should I decide to send it out again.

After my session, I was a little hyper. I didn’t know what to do with myself. I did some journaling and that seemed to calm me down some. I think I drank too much coffee. LOL It is weird that on days that I don’t have coffee I can function fairly well but am not as productive and on days that I do have coffee, I am more productive and can think a little more clearly.

I just had my lunch, a bowl of cereal. I really wanted a bacon sandwich but I am trying to lower my salt intake. Plus it was cinnamon toast crunch and I know cinnamon has some health value.

I seemed to have done something to my right hip between changing my sheets on Sunday and walking yesterday. I took a trip to the basement to freeze some bread as our freezer was full and by the time I got there, my hip and sciatica was acting up. I was having pains in the buttock going down my leg. Soon as I rested it went away. I want to do another walk tomorrow, the same distance I did yesterday. I need to try and do more exercise but I also don’t want to hurt myself in the process. I am going to try stretching those muscles to see if that eases the pain. It might just need a gentle stretch as I am out of shape. I haven’t walked long distances in over two years. I wish there was a Starbucks I could walk to but there isn’t. There is no way I can walk to my Starbucks place in the square. That will be my goal one day but not off the bat. It still depresses me that I can’t walk far without pain. I used to be able to walk anywhere I wanted to. Now I am so limited that even a walk more than a few blocks hurts me. But if I don’t test my limits and move past them, I am never going to know what I can and can’t do. I want to be more mobile but not to be in pain all the time. I am NOT willing for that to be the price I pay for increased mobility. And I know it will take time. Maybe walking halfway and back is what I need to do until I can do the 1.2 miles again.

I have titled this “Mockingbird won’t sing” because it was the song that I was listening to when I started my blog. It is a song by Rob Thomas. It reminded me of the time when my therapist and I were not on the same page. No matter what we tried, we just were batting heads. I wasn’t making much progress in what was being said. I felt like I was at a stand still and was doubting whether I should stay with my therapist. That was when we decided on consultation, and even then we had different opinions on what kind of consult we needed. She wanted me to see a DID (dissociative Identity Disorder) specialist and I wanted to see a suicidologist. We ended up seeing both, though not at the same time.

I got nothing but bullshit from the DID specialist. She denied my hallucinations, called them “parts of self”. If they were parts of me, why did they respond so well to medication?? I felt like I was back in the old ward of the Trauma unit of the hospital I was just discharged, where they wanted me to name my feelings and “talk with them”. This person had some pretty eclectic ideas about how trauma works. But I guess she got the idea from Europe and brought it over to the States, where it didn’t catch on. And the reason for that is because DBT (Dialectical Behavior Therapy) takes precedence. My therapist did like her style and I hated it. I still think it is a crock, though, I will admit, there are some merits to what she was saying. I don’t remember them now but I remember the specialist’s papers were interesting.

The suicidologist was more my type. He was analytical, complete with a couch in his office. We had a few sessions but I found that transference (my feelings toward him) was getting in the way of our therapy so I stopped going. He is still available to me should I need him again. Unfortunately, he doesn’t accept my insurance so it will be a hefty bill, if I do see him again.