Tag: blog

too depressed to care

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

I am feeling overwhelmed. I have so much to do with my writing that I don’t know what I want to do first. Then I think that I should just leave it up to the editor to sort out for me. But the depression is clouding my thoughts and I can’t think straight. I keep thinking about death. I don’t know if I should call my psychiatrist or not. She’ll probably tell me to take an Ativan. I just don’t know what to do. I am not in crisis, I don’t plan on taking any action towards death but I keep thinking about it. I think I have taken on too much in my mind that I can’t sort out what I need to.

And I keep thinking about the short story that I am working on. It is about death and darkness. I like how it flows but it is too short to publish. How ironic is that? A short story that is too short. I picked up the manuscript for it today. I wanted to work on my book at Starbucks but I forgot my phone and I hate listening to the music at Starbucks. It can annoy me to the point of leaving the store.

I can’t stand this depression but I there is nothing I can do but wait until it passes. That is the hardest part of dealing with the depression, waiting. You want relief now but there is no knowing when it will pass. It makes me sick. It makes me tired. It makes me crave carbs. Somehow I lost three pounds and I hope it stays off but I bought donuts the other day. They are my comfort food. I will try to make them last but sometimes I use it as a meal substitute because I don’t know what I want to eat. Bad choice but when you have depression, you don’t care about these things. But I am mindful about my weight because I am seeing my PCP soon and he always harps on me about it. It’s like something you can fix overnight. NOT. It takes time to deal with weight issues. Time and patience, just like with the depression. But you quickly run out of patience with depression. You wonder if you will ever feel better. Everything is a hassle. Even taking a shower can drain the energy from you. I felt that the other day when I had to go out. I am bad with taking showers and other types of self care but the shower to me, has to be the worse because I can stink and my family will notice. My sister has a nose like a bloodhound. I am not kidding. She is very sensitive to odors and I try to avoid her when I haven’t showered in a few days. I try to keep up with the every other day but sometimes it can be up to four days before I shower. It just is so hard. It used to be because of my pain that I would fear the shower, now it is because I am too depressed to care.

I also hate losing interest in things. Things like going to my Starbucks or reading a book. I haven’t even journaled in days. Sure I write my blog, which is kind of my online journal, but I also write the private thoughts that shouldn’t be share with the internet in my journal. Or just write to keep track of things so I know what I did on a certain day. I have found that it is much easier looking things up in my journal than on my blog. Even though my blog has a search function, unless I know specifically what I am looking for, I can’t find it. I feel totally useless in this regard. And lately, I have begun to feel more useless. I feel like I don’t have a purpose anymore and it just compounds the feelings I have about death and not being anymore. But my book continues to give me hope that I will help at least one person and that I must see it through. Though I am terrified of the editor, I must admit. I think that is scaring me silly. Seeing my work full of red marks is not a pleasant thought, though I keep trying to tell myself it won’t be many. But then, I am not seeing my book through her eyes or anyone else’s.

I am so tired of dealing with depression. Even though what I am feeling is a mild depression, I can’t help but think I should just end it just so I don’t have to deal with it again. It’s like every episode you feel for the first time, and each time it just breaks your heart into a thousand pieces. You lose hope. You feel rejected by the world. You feel lost and helpless, like nothing is ever going to change. I keep thinking of Andrew Solomon’s TED talk where he describes in detail of how painful it is just to eat dinner. Though I do know the ordeal of things, I have never felt like that. My thoughts maybe slower and less agile, but I never felt like it was a painful experience just cooking a meal. I guess because my mother cooks most of the time, I just shovel it in without thinking of the process of cutting the food and chewing it. But I do know the ordeal of trying to get dressed. Of having to choose what to wear when you want to go out can be such a challenge. That is why most days I stay in my PJs. The only time I go out, is when I really want to or I have the energy for it. Like today. It wasn’t dreadful for me to go out of the house. I had a specific plan in mind and I followed through on it. If I didn’t forget my phone, I probably would still be out of the house. Then there is the other thing, the anxiety of leaving the house. I have grown so accustomed to my being in my room all the time that leaving it can cause me anxiety. And anxiety and depression just don’t mix. It can be a deadly combination. But as long as I have a specific agenda and follow through with that, I can survive the anxiety. For example, today I had to go to Staples to pick up my manuscript. I took the bus, went to Dunkin for a cup of tea, then went to the store to pick it up. I wanted to take the bus to Davis to sit at Starbucks and work on my manuscript but the anxiety of not having my phone caused me to just pick up the short story and head back home. I was too focused on not having my music that I had to go home. I was really too depressed to care about working on my manuscript even though I left the house. I can work on it from home but now I am too overwhelmed. Think I will just write my therapist a letter instead.

Enchanted

by Midnight Demon, posted in blogging, depression, suicide

There I was again tonight
Forcing laughter faking smiles
Same old tired lonely place
Walls of insincerity
It was enchanting to meet you
Your eyes whisper have we met

And it was enchanting to meet you
All I can say is It was enchanting to meet you
This night is sparkling don’t you let it go
I spent forever wondering if you knew
I was enchanted to meet you

These are the lyrics of Taylor Swift’s song “Enchanted”. Every time I listen to this song it I think of the night that Dr. Jobes read my poster and I was enchanted by what surrounded me that night. He shook my hand and said good work. I was floored. I still am. He is my idol, my superstar. But that night and the next day changed me. I wish I could hold on to that feeling forever and this song takes me back to that time when I knew I belonged in the suicidology world and not a crummy lab working as a lab assistant. The next day, I got to meet David Lester and Antoon Leneears. Big names in the suicide field. I had just read their article the night before that they co-wrote along with Mauricio Pompili about Shneidman’s psychache pain scale. It can never work in the real world as it is a very complex scale not for the person taking it, but for the person interpreting it. I wish I could remember the name of the article and post it for those that want to read it but I would have to dig for it as I don’t know where it is. Anyways, I met these guys that I read the night before and how cool is that?? Total Enchantment!!

It was my first conference at the AAS, American Association of Suicidology. I still can’t believe that they accepted my paper for a poster session. It was unbelievable. I got to meet people and other grad students. I was probably the only undergrad there. It was such an amazing experience. I was on cloud nine for days. It made me want to get my degree faster but that would end later that year as I suffered a psychotic break and never fully recovered from it. All the pressure of that year through me into a psychosis that was hard to manage. I was also taking at the time a very difficult psych class and I guess it also didn’t help me. I ended up failing that class. I went from enchanted to disbelief. But nothing can take away that feeling of meeting Jobes and him shaking my hand.

still feeling blah

by Midnight Demon, posted in blogging, depression

Still feeling blah. I was talking to my cousin about this and he said it’s similar to being numb. He’s right. It is similar. I hate feeling this way. He is feeling the dead inside feelings I used to have. It sucks feeling this way. I don’t know how I am supposed to live like this. This is going on almost two weeks now, for me anyways. I am just waiting for the suicidal thoughts to come back. But then, I don’t really need to be suicidal to kill myself.

I had a very rude awakening this morning. My fucking bastard father called me at six-thirty this morning for shits and giggles. I am not kidding. Woke me up from a sound sleep. I got really friggen mad, so mad I couldn’t go back to sleep. I hung up on the friggen turkey brain. I didn’t care. If he called back I was going to lay into him. Now I don’t give a damn about him. He has the appointment for his blood work on Monday, and he is going alone. I am not going with him. Fuck him. I don’t need to be there anyways, just to make sure he fucking goes. I got to call his GI doc again on Monday because that idiot didn’t call me back or let me know they called in the prescription. I also have to call the Ophthal people back on Monday for my own appointment. Monday is going to be busy.

I can’t wait till my therapist is back. I miss talking with her. She is not going to be happy about my father. He is such a jerk. I should call him at three in the morning when I wake up just to show him. But I am not going to because I am the more mature person. Who the hell does that?? Calling someone at six-thirty in the morning, for fun??? God I am so pissed just thinking about it. I am so done with him. Let my sisters deal with his stupid ass.

I didn’t go out today because once I got back to a normal temper, my foot went out of whack. I took some pain meds and then was out till about two. I needed the nap. I just ordered Thai food. It was good. I wish it had less chicken. I really just like the noodles.

I got my MP3 player and Taylor’s “Lucky One” is playing. Yesterday I was just thinking how my father always said I was a nothing and even a school teacher told me I was a nothing. Now I am rubbing elbows with some of the top suicidologists in the country and in Switzerland. I know I should be feeling joy or happiness. Or even feeling like a lucky one, but I don’t. I am trying hard to overrule my childhood programming but it’s not easy. I still haven’t heard back from the guy about what I wrote to him. I wrote about my synopsis of the book. Maybe he isn’t in the office and that is why he hasn’t responded. It was late in the afternoon when I wrote. And Switzerland is at least six hours ahead of us. Maybe I will get a response on Monday.

I guess in a way, you can say I am the “lucky one”. Who would have thought that I would be a writer in such a short period of time and be able to write a book that is close to being published. I do hope it is successful but not too successful. Course, if it sells a million copies, then I will be happy and won’t care. But like I said before, I will be happy with just 100 copies sold.

rambling 60

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

I really have no gas today, despite waking up at the god awful hour of five. I had no reason to be up at this hour, other than a slight pain on my pinky toe. I must have had a blister on it or something and it dissipated but I am left with pain. Thank you nerve pain. You cannot tell me that my foot isn’t messed up with mixed nerve signals anymore. There is just so many random things that happen with it. One minute (or more than a few) it is ice cold, then next burning red hot. Other times it is throbbing like I bang it or something. I gave up trying to figure out what I do to make it hurt the way it does. If I stand it doesn’t hurt too much but then I don’t feel the pain right away so who knows. If I walk too much, I won’t know until the next day if I did too much. I just never know what it is going to be. And then I will have a day or two of no pain. Of it acting like my right foot except for the constant tickle that I feel everyday, which is manageable, I hardly know my foot is there.

But I do have to be protective of it. I have to make sure I don’t expose it to extreme temperatures, too hot or too cold and I am going to hurt. I give up. Yet I suffer either way. It just feels so hopeless. And I have become helpless. All I can do is take my pain medication. It is the only thing that helps me. No other medication has helped and I have been on several.

It looks like I might be in the clear with the menses situation. I hope so. I am starting to feel a lift in my mood and that usually changes when things stop. I hope so because if I have another suicidal attack I think I will act on it this time. I just am so tired of fighting it all the time. I know that will push my book back further but what choice do I have? I also know that attempting might mean a hospitalization longer than two weeks and mean that I might spend the holidays inpatient. Oh well, not like that hasn’t happened before. It will be 18 years since my last serious suicide attempt. I still remember it as if it was yesterday. But things were different back then than they are now. Treatment in the hospital is like an inpatient office visit than an actual helpful place. Your “team” meets with you for fifteen minutes and that is supposed to help you? So if you start feeling better to the nursing staff, and they feel you are not a threat, you go home. That is how is works now. No doctors making real decisions, sure they cover it so that it looks that way but it really isn’t.

I am not sure I want to go in the hospital with an attempt. They watch you closer than they do when you go in without one. And you get out quicker. I have yet to see someone attempt and be out in three days time. I am sure it happens but not at the place that I go.

Regarding my book, for those following my blog: I did one paragraph today and organized my ending a little bit. I want to get it to be at least eight pages long so I have four pages to go before that happens. I will work on it tomorrow, I hope. If my motivation comes. I have to see my pdoc tomorrow so maybe I can do some writing before hand.