Eclipse 2017

Eclipse 2017

My sister was in the path of the eclipse as she was down in South Carolina. She got really cool photos, which were similar to those on Facebook and Twitter. I was in Starbucks and didn’t care much for it as there was overcast. I saw some guy in the foyer outside with the special glasses and did see things go dark for a little bit and then bright again. I stayed where I was inside the store.

I wrote in my journal as I was having my espresso. I didn’t leave as late as I wanted to as I got up around noon time. I caught the 1300 bus, which had some kind of idling or brake problem as it was making awful noises at each stop or red light. I had bumped into a family member while waiting for the bus. They are still contemplating therapy but is scared of being put in the hospital for “being crazy”. As much as I have tried to reassure this person that will not happen unless they are a threat to themselves or others, I still am not getting through. It hurts me so bad to see them suffering so much.

After I couldn’t write anymore in my journal and saw the loads of pics of the eclipse on Facebook and those my sister sent me, it was time to catch the train to see my therapist. He didn’t pick his nails as much today and was attentive to what I was saying. It kind of freaked me out a little because I was getting used to him being silent all the time. In the beginning of session, I had to hold back laughter as he was wearing cranberry pants. It looked totally ridiculous but whatever. Who am I to judge?

My ankle was getting sore on the way home. I caught the first train that came to the station and luckily, the bus had just pulled up. I didn’t have to wait for the 1730 one. I was looking forward to chicken cutlets but when I came home, I smelled stir fry. I was totally disappointed. I was a sweating mess and had to change. I made a dish and had supper. Then I took a much needed shower. I had wet myself and needed new underwear. I drank a lot of water when I came home as I was really thirsty and didn’t feel like making iced tea like I usually do. I’ll probably have to use the bathroom soon as water just goes right through me for some reason.

After the shower, my ankle was cramping on me while I was drying off. I was due my next dose of pain meds so I took them when I came to my room. Now an hour later, my ankle bone is being tortured. I fucking hate this shit. I need to be up in 12 hours, I’ll be lucky to get to sleep tonight. I’m glad I took a shower so I don’t need to in the morning as I have a feeling it is going to be rushed. I need to catch the bus in the opposite direction I usually take as I got to go to another train station to see my neurologist. It’s an appointment that I need to go to only for her to email my docs about her diagnosis of CRPS. I want her to do it in triplicate for my PCP so I don’t have to go to anymore new docs. I am just seeing the specialist and hopefully he won’t recommend me seeing anyone else because I’ve had it with the profession, except for my psychiatrist of course. I took a strong pain pill. Lord only knows when I will have a bowel movement. I thought it was going to be today but nothing so far. I really hope I don’t get hit tomorrow while I am out and about. I am about an hour and half away from home, 45 mins of which I am on a train the whole time. Just makes me nervous because my bowels can be unpredictable at times and when I need to go, I need to go NOW, there is no holding it in because of my nerve injury. I haven’t taken stuff to go because I am out and about. It is going to suck so bad when I do go. I am not looking forward to it.

never ending. It just goes on and on

Never ending. It just goes on and on

I’m trying to settle down for sleep but a new pain keeps popping up when I lie down, when I sit up, when I take my meds, when I move it, etc. It is fucking never ending. I am not doing a damn thing tomorrow, least that is the plan for now.

I sent an email to my psychiatrist asking her if I was a difficult patient. I briefly discussed my therapy session with my therapist and that the therapy group down the hall from him contacted me. Unfortunately, it got filtered to my junk mail so I didn’t get it until I got home. My phone doesn’t get junk mail for they could be viruses embedded in what they send. Last thing I need is a virus on my phone.

I just sent an email to my neurologist asking her if she could help me out by confirming that I do indeed have CRPS as my PCP just wants to pass me off to another doctor. I am tired of seeing new doctors who aren’t helpful and then just want to pass me off or not treat/see me anymore. I see my neuro in two weeks. It was kind of a long email but I don’t care. My stupid phone kept on inserting different words as I typed, which annoyed the crap out of me. I should have just typed it on my laptop so I wouldn’t get aggravated. Lesson learned.

My foot feels like it is being strangled. There is such a pressure on it like it’s going to burst. I am so tired that I am reaching the over tired stage, which is dangerous because I could catch my second wind and then be up all night. I took an Ativan because along with the strangulation, my ankle is pulsating. The little muscles are twitching. This condition is so frustrating because there is never ending different kinds of pain. I wish I could see a doctor at this hour so they can see or I can try to explain to them what living with this condition is like. All I can do is send them an email and then not get a response. But at least by writing it out, it helps me because at least I have documentation that I wrote this to a doctor.

I still am shocked that in the great medical hub of Boston, I have not found a doctor that is willing to help me. Sure, my PCP gives me pain meds to alleviate my pain. I appreciate that. But he doesn’t want to stop there. Right now my diagnosis is in the air and it is making everything seem like we haven’t tried enough. I am tired of this merry go round. I want off. I asked my neuro if she could possible give me a concrete diagnosis and staple it on my PCP’s head. Well, I didn’t say that. But if she could send a note to him saying I have this dreaded condition, then maybe I don’t have to see yet another new doc. There is no treatment for this condition. I know this. My PCP knows this, my neuro knows this. But opioids help me and if I don’t have them, I am good as dead. I have exhausted physical therapy. I have tried injections. I have tried rest. This is no longer a case of tendonitis. It is deeper than that.

The pain is changing all the fucking time, all over my ankle, foot, toes, bones. It hurts every where. Normally, at this hour, I would be writing a morbid story about ending my life. That is what this blog was about. My suicidal thoughts in the cybersphere. But then one day someone took it too far and called the cops on me so I no longer talk about those things, even though it relieves the tendencies to act. Thoughts are NOT the same as feelings. And feelings does not mean act upon them. It is okay to feel. It is ok to think. Here is a quote from the father of suicidology, Edwin Shneidman that I had the pleasure of talking to him before he died.

“Never kill yourself while you are suicidal. You can, if you must, think about suicide as much as your wishes and let the thoughts of suicide –the possibility that you could do it- carry you through the dark night. Night after night. Day after day, until the thoughts of self-destruction runs its course and a fresh view of your own frustrated needs comes into clearer form in your mind and you can, at last, pursue the realistic aspects, however dire, of your natural life”. –Edwin Shneidman, Suicidal Mind, p166

I write these blogs because I still am struggling night after night, day after day. Pain increases my vulnerability to think of self-destruction. I have the means though no one talks about restricting them. I told my psychiatrist I have something that will end my life but still, she doesn’t ask about it when I see her. She never does. Poor assessment of risks. So does my therapist who knows damn well that I have chronic suicidal thoughts. It makes me angry that I am not treated the way I was with my former therapist, Bozo. She was annoying, I will give her that, but she fucking cared and if I had a method she damn well tried to take it away from me the best she could. I really miss her. Yesterday was her birthday. I wonder if I will be alive to see mine. I really am surprised that you CAN get anything off of Amazon. While I was searching for my method, they had machetes. Machetes!! I don’t think I would have the will power to use it to chop my ankle off but I know a chainsaw would do the job. I refuse to search for it because I know in my darkest of moments, I may just buy it. I’ll go all Scarface on my ankle and groin to sever my artery.

I am once again plagued by dark thoughts. All because I can’t sleep and I am in pain that is never ending. It just goes on and on.

tiring but good therapy session

Tiring but good therapy session

I woke up around 0630 in pain. It felt like someone was squeezing the shit out of my foot, for which purpose, I have no clue. It just hurt really bad. I took my meds and then went back to sleep, hoping I didn’t wake up past 1300. I woke up a few minutes before noon. My jaw was hurting me so I took some ibuprofen. I washed up and told my mother I would be home late as I had therapy. I just said I had an appt. She asked where and that was it.

I left for Starbucks and then I quickly wanted to go back to bed. I just ran out of gas walking to the bus stop. I put on music to try and stay awake. The bus came and I placed my order for Starbucks. They didn’t have my donuts so I ordered a sandwich. I wasn’t sure how my jaw was going to handle it but I did ok, being careful not to chew on that side. I was getting sleepier as time past and I regretted not cancelling my therapy appt. I had emailed my therapist before going to bed last night asking him about his expertise in PTSD matters. I got a response while at Starbucks that “we’ll talk about it during our session”. Fucking give me a damn answer asshole.

I wrote in my journal for a bit and then a friend texted me. We talked until it was time for me to leave to see dipshit. She sometimes annoys me because she doesn’t follow the texts or maybe dissociates and forgets what I said. I don’t know. I just hate when she asks a question to something I already answered. I got to my therapist office and told her I would talk to her later.

So I went in to see my therapist and we discussed the email. The whole session was about my cauda equina syndrome, surgeries, how I was treated, how my ankle was treated (or rather not treated), and the panic attack that lead to the ER visit last week. He wanted me to distract when I am panicky and not think about catastrophizing things in the back of my head. He understands that this is easier said than done. But the jerk didn’t answer the question as to his expertise to PTSD. He just said we just need to talk about it. I was annoyed but I liked his feedback about trying stuff. The hard part is, I already distract and try to calm myself but it doesn’t work 100% of the time.

I left the session feeling like he understood me but is still not willing to help me, now that I have had time to think about it. It’s frustrating the hell out of me. The place that I want to be seen at sent me an email but because it got filtered to my junk, I didn’t get it until now. Great. Another day of email tag. My therapist was very keen on noticing that I like to be in control of my health care and finding the care that I need. I so wanted to say, including with you but kept my mouth shut. My jaw was really hurting when I left from talking almost the entire session. I didn’t have any water with me so I couldn’t take my pain meds. I think I need to go back to the dentist to see if this pain is normal or something else is going on.

As I was walking to the train station, a million things were running through my mind. I wanted to write all of it down but I really wanted to go home and chill. The train was late so took a while to get to the Square. My brother in law called me saying he made a pasta dish. I said I would have some when I got home. He didn’t say it was with chickpeas. They don’t agree with me so I had an Ensure. I wanted the other nutritional drink but it went bad. I need to throw the three cases away. Such a waste. They were on my porch and when we had scorching heat, they must have turned bad. I’m not that hungry anyway because I am in so much pain.

My thoughts about the session are still lingering so I might write more about it later. I am really tired so I am going to take my meds and hopefully have a good sleep. I just hope my ankle doesn’t flip out later. It has been good the past few hours. The weather is cooler than it has been so I think that may be why.

very tired, weepy, depressing day

Very tired, weepy, depressing day

I woke up around 4 in pain. My jaw hurt and my ankle was berserk. I took some more ibuprofen and pain meds. Luckily, I went back to sleep. My alarm went off and I didn’t want to get up. I thought I had snoozed it but I didn’t. My new phone has a lit up screen with the day and time and any notifications. I glared over and saw it was almost 0930. I had to get up, brush my teeth and wash my face. Then I put on deodorant as it was going to be hot today. I then got dressed and was really feeling frustrated that again I got no help when I seeked it.

I had emailed my PCP last night before bed to tell him I was in the ER. I got a response asking if I wanted to be seen and if I did I should call the office. I didn’t feel like being examined again, so I told them I pass and my pain levels were “normal”, whatever that is. I didn’t get a response back so I hope they go away.

I had my espresso and a steak and egg wrap that I like. Unfortunately, chewing was difficult. And it hurt. I tried to eat on my left side but it was hard. It was the only thing I had to eat all day. I bought a scone but I couldn’t bring myself to eat it. I saved it for tomorrow. Before I knew it, it was time to see my psych. The train was late. I just made it to my appointment. My psych was getting worried as I am always early. I explained the train was late and so therefore I was. We talked about the ER and she read me the notes. She jokingly said I was aggravated because my BP was up. HAHA. I wasn’t lying about that! The notes said I had diminished sensation on my foot in various parts and decreased range of motion. Tell me something I don’t know. She reassured me that I wasn’t having a recurrence of CES. She said it so sternly that it kind of freaked me out and then I became weepy and annoyed. I started to cry a little. I was really depressed and just wanted my pillow. When I said that she asked if I wanted pills. HAHA no, just my pillow will be fine. We have an appointment next week as then she is on vacation for three weeks. She stressed that someone else would be answering her pager while she was away. I told her I would just email her. Unless I was in dire straights, I don’t think I will page her covering doc.

I left and fell asleep on the train so I missed my stop. Sucks because I missed the bus as well so I had to wait an hour for the next one. I just tried to snooze as I listened to Bon Jovi. I was still weepy and felt relieved I didn’t have CES again. I think that is why I was so tearful. But still, if someone looked at me the wrong way, I was bound to cry, that’s how sensitive I was today.

I came home and my mother said I looked exhausted. I told her I was. I told her I didn’t want anything to eat. She made me a plate and then called three times. I told her my jaw was still hurting and I just needed something soft. I opted to drink an Ensure rather than make boiled eggs. I am hungry but I just don’t feel like aggravating my teeth right now.

I did a dumb thing. Last night I put in a refill for my Zoloft. It was an older prescription but I didn’t see the newer one. In my “history” the refill wasn’t there. That was because there were no more refills and I had just had it filled on Monday. I am a dum dum. I put away the meds that I recently got.

I took 2400 mg of Neurontin to try and sleep. Unfortunately, my neighborhood had other plans. There were sounds of hammering and other construction noises. Every time I tried to relax to sleep, some noise woke me up. I was so annoyed. I eventually fell asleep. Now I am feeling groggy and foggy. I took my night time meds plus my pain meds and ibuprofen. I think ibuprofen and I are going to be friends for a while. The dentist was concerned because the novacaine numbed the right side of my nose. He called me this morning to see how I was. I called back when I shuffled around trying to wake up. I told him I was fine, sore but fine. I was kind of nervous though because while I was eating my wrap, I felt like sand was in my mouth. I hope a filling didn’t come out. I was too tired to go back to the office to get checked out. I will be back in two weeks for another filling so I will have him check it then, unless it hurts really bad or something.

I talked to my psych about my therapist and the coordinator for the pain group. I told her I am still looking for another therapist but haven’t had any luck yet. I jokingly said I must be on some kind of blacklist. HAHA. She said no. She did find it odd that no one called me back. I hope to hear from them within a week or so. Otherwise, I will try another place. Until then I will continue to see the nail picker. I am going to try and ask him if he is mocking me or just throwing things out there to show he is listening but not offer any advice to help me. I really don’t feel a connection to him. He is just there for me to ramble but that is not what I want. I want someone that is caring and is willing to help me find new ways in dealing with my problems. I thought that was what therapy was all about, not just rambling on about shit.

I kind of got suicidal when I got home. It was just passing thoughts but I just wished I was dead. I feel nothing inside that makes me feel alive. I am in so much physical pain all the time, it’s just draining the life from me. Like is this how I am supposed to live the rest of my life?? I know suffering is part of life but must it happen on a daily basis? I cried when I was in my room as I thought about this stuff. I couldn’t help it. I hate feeling miserable. I rather feel nothing or depressed. I am just tired of fighting all the time. I don’t get a break from it. It’s going to kill me eventually. I will be another Chester Bennington, but a no name.