“Humans”

Humans

We were at my father’s appointment and they were running 45 minutes behind. When we asked for an explanation, the nurse said “humans”. I kid you not. Like what the fuck aren’t we all? I was more pissed than I already was. So a ½ hour appointment took three damn hours. I hadn’t had lunch and was starving by the time I got home. The last time I ate something was around 0630.

Other than this appointment from hell, my day went okay. Next time I will be bringing a book because I am not going to stare at the ceiling for two hours. Waiting for three hours, killed my ankle. I am hurting but I can dope up on meds and not deal with my father until Friday, though I expect him to call me because the doc changed his meds around. I had to count them to see if I put in all of them in the box. I was tired as the bus ride to his house gave me anxiety again because another monster stroller came on. There was already a wheelchair person on the bus so the front was congested and I headed to the back to get some air.

My blood pressure pills finally came today. They took a trip around the US, going from New Jersey to Connecticut to Illinois to Boston. I am glad they got delivered because I had one more morning dose and then I would be out. I would have had to take from my night meds and that was something I wanted to avoid because my brain can only hold so much information these days. I also got my allergy pills today, something I was not expecting until next week. I just hope tomorrow my Pearl Jam bag gets delivered. I feel I deserve this expensive bag for dealing with an imbecile bastard father. The bag cost $90 and is the most expensive bag that I will own. It’s made by Patagonia, which is why it is so expensive. Tack on the Pearl Jam label and well they have to get their royalties too.

I should have brought my Roots story with me to edit it. I meant to print it out but it was raining and I didn’t want soggy papers so ditched it at the last minute. I didn’t bring my tablet for the same reason. I will bring both on Friday when we have yet another appointment.

I haven’t heard back from my psychiatrist about getting an appointment from her. I am tempted to call her office and demand one. But I don’t think that will fly. I am sure she reads the email, plans on responding and then gets distracted, never responding. Least that is what I hope happens. I will need a refill on two of my medications by the time my father is done with all his appointments. I have explained this to her in the last email I sent her. I just have anxiety when she doesn’t respond because I don’t know if she is mad at me and that is why she is not responding or if she is just in email jail and can’t respond. Or she had a brain fart and forgot about responding.

I got therapy tomorrow and I think I am going to go to Starbucks in the morning so I can have some me time. I really want a soy latte and their breakfast sandwich that I love. I will print off the roots story and see if I can play with it. I want to get this baby up to 2000 words and I am falling short.

Oh, and hold the presses! Mary Chapin Carpenter, my favorite artist of all time, is coming out with a new CD in May! I cannot fricken wait. I think I can get it in vinyl but a CD will suffice. My mother hogs the TV room where the turntable is so I would only be able to listen to it late at night or when she is out of the house. I rather listen to it in my room. New music from her is going to be heaven. She has such a calming voice on me. I always listen to her when I am in need to calming or need to relax. She has an orchestral album that is very relaxing. That came out I think two years ago. I would LOVE to hear that album at the Boston Symphony. It would be epic!

Hyde here

Hyde here

I am feeling really suicidal. I am in pain and I just can’t take it anymore. I almost sat on my glasses and that set things off. Now Hyde is out and I can’t get him back in. He has been quiet for a long time but he wants to talk so I am going to let him. I am safe. This is just his words…

My heart is broken and I don’t know how to fix it. I have tried to with therapy and medication but it seems that no matter what I do, I can’t fix myself. So why can’t I just kill myself? I have no meaning here. I have no purpose. Sure I take care of my bastard father but he doesn’t care if I live or die. I don’t think many people will care if I die.

Tonight my feet were cold so I put on some thermal socks. They were on for a couple of hours and then my feet got really hot. I now have an indentation on my bad foot were the sock dug into me. My foot is still swollen from yesterday and it hurts really bad. I don’t know why I have to live like this. I thought I was a good person but I guess I am not.

I don’t want to be a writer like my psych team wants me to be. I can’t write for shit. Sure I can blog, but that isn’t the same as writing a book. I added owls to my story and it sucks. I don’t know what I was thinking. I am such a bad writer.

I am very tired of trying to stay alive. I should kill myself. It makes no sense to go on. My heart always hurts worse than my foot. Least my foot can get relief with medication. But nothing helps my heartache. I am trying to stay awake to write this. I haven’t been out in so long. I just want to die and push up daisies. Or not even that. Just spread my ashes behind the City Yards near the water. That is my favorite place in the world. I wish I could go there often but I don’t have a car anymore and it’s too far to walk. I didn’t want to live past 40 years. I had every intention to die but my stupid fucking loser of a therapist wanted me to live. She is such an idiot and Jack agrees with me. He hates her really bad. I don’t know why.

I got to go. Meds are knocking me out. Just know that I really want to kill the host and I hope I will succeed one day. Soon as I figure it out, I will do it.

Talking about Anger

Talking about Anger

I had therapy today and all we did was talk about my father and the stress of dealing with him. She read my blog I wrote about him the other day. She thought it was good that I was able to write about the anger of dealing with him because if I didn’t feel a sense of responsibility, I would just leave him. I could care less about what he going on. I don’t feel a connection to him. That connection has been severed a long time ago and never got reestablished.

We talked about how my ankle got messed up while walking with the wheelchair and how using my cane helps take the pressure off. She was annoyed that he needed a wheelchair instead of walking. It annoys me too but he wants the attention. She said that I should be in the chair instead of him. The guy only cares about himself.

We also talked briefly about my mother’s health issues and how it’s stressing my sisters and I out. My mother just has her own way of doing things in regard to her health. I know she thinks she is a burden to us but that isn’t the truth. She is just sick of being sick and in pain all the time. But she doesn’t do anything to help herself either. It’s just annoying and it’s only going to get worse as she gets older.

My therapist just wants me basically to stay in bed to rest my ankle. She encouraged me to write about my anger but I fear that it will be taken the wrong way so you may see more password protected posts. She also wants me to read and do stuff that doesn’t involve me walking around. I haven’t had lunch yet. I haven’t decided what I want. I have a few choices and that is the problem.

My therapist was vocal throughout the session, though she did listen when I was telling the story of how Thursday night went. I told her I was so aggravated with him that I didn’t get something to eat like I wanted to. She wasn’t happy about this. I don’t even remember if I bitched to my mother about him that night.

What really got me really pissed off and still does is the “concern” my aunt has for my father. She would rather piss on his grave than think more of him. Now that he is sick, she is “concerned”. It’s bullshit. She just wants to be in the loop to she can talk about him behind his back. I hate this aunt because she is just two faced. I don’t see her often and rarely see her at her house. The only time I will be at her house is if my mother is there and she needs something or I need something from her. It just pisses me off.

My therapist did talk about the safety planning thing that I wrote about. And she said that we didn’t have one in a long time. I told her I would bring the sheet the next time I saw her, which probably won’t be until the end of the month. She asked me when I was seeing my psychiatrist and I said I don’t have a time. This is the problem I have when I cancel a time with her. Trying to get another appointment takes several emails. I emailed her last night but haven’t heard back from her, yet. I said in the email that by the time the 15th rolled around I would need refills so I would like to see her by then. After the 15th is when things go back to normal for me. I am not spending all my time with my bastard father.

I need to see my father earlier than usual tomorrow before his appointment as my sister is taking us to the appointment. I figure I do his meds before we leave so that I didn’t have to do it after. I can just go home after the appointment.

I will have another rest day on Thursday. I also have therapy because I can’t have it tomorrow. I told my therapist about my panic attack that I had yesterday. I told her I took my pain pill soon as I got home and she asked if I took some Ativan as well. I told her I did because my chest was hurting and I was still having palpitations. I just get nervous when I am on the bus and the entrance or exit is crowded. More so if the entrance is blocked because I usually exit the bus that way. But it was the last straw for me having to deal with. My foot swelled up twice the size of my other foot last night and it was hurting like a SOB. CRPS in action. This is why my doctors don’t think I have CRPS because they don’t see me at night when these things happen. It took a while for me to get comfy and to get to sleep last night because of pain. I still woke up around 0400. I stayed up for a little bit went back to sleep and then woke up two hours later. I had breakfast at 0800 and then went back to sleep. I woke up around 1130 and made coffee. Now I am just going to make lunch and then read some Harry Potter so I can dissociate.

Stigma and depression

People with depression sometimes do not have a reason for a depressive episode, sometimes they occur without any triggers and even when every part of that person’s life is going well. You do not need a reason to feel depressed. STOP making people feel bad for feeling depressed!!