in the pit of despair

In the pit of despair

I have been in severe pain since 1500, so basically the last 12 hours because it is now 0315. My foot and ankle have been playing the divide and conquer game, giving me different pain in different parts of my ankle and foot, all at once. I don’t like this game at all. I can’t keep up with the pain and I don’t know what medicine to use to alleviate it. It is very frustrating.

My jaw/face was swollen so I put ice on it. It brought down some of the swelling. It is still giving me a hard time though when I eat as it feels like food is stuck there but it’s not. It’s just inflamed gums. It is so annoying. Tomorrow I go back to using the yucky rinse that causes my tongue to tingle. Fun stuff. The dentist wanted me to use the toothpaste that he gave me but I told him that it hurts to brush just once, let alone twice. He said not to use it on the hurt area. I was like, that area is where you WANT me to use it, which is why you prescribed it to me, ya Schmuck. I am not using the special toothpaste until my mouth is healed. My mouth, my choice.

I am trying not to get depressed but that is easier said than done. I feel my heart imploding and there is nothing I can do about it. It hurts and no amount of pain meds can take it away, as if it were that easy. Matters of the heart are never solved by medication. What it is solved by remains a mystery. The internal hurt that never goes away.

I was thinking of my father today. I have been flooded with memories of how he treated me, not all good. For some reason, while trying to organize the pics on my phone, his pics from when I got them loaded on my phone, including the one of him in his casket, are first in the order rather than the most recent ones that I have taken. I never thought I would forgive my father for his wrongdoings because he would never admit that he did something wrong. We were the ones that “made him” do the things to hurt us. As time is going by, and he is no longer here, I am finding a sense of peace from him knowing he can’t hurt me anymore. No more calls, no more threats, no more vengeance to the people he hated. Most people would say that my father is in heaven but I know better. He is either in Hell or purgatory. He never apologized for his sins before he died and he never would because “he did no wrong”. Asshole. But the bastard is on my mind these past few days. I got to put the pics of him in some kind of folder so I don’t come across them so frequently or it is going to drive me mad, well, madder than I already am.

I joined a suicide attempt survivor group on Facebook and a depression support group. Both are very busy and take up a lot of my feed. I’m not sure if I am going to stay in the depression group. People there are really rock bottom depressed and it doesn’t make me feel hopeful that things will be better. The other group, I am not sure about either. There is a lot of talk about suicide and suicide attempts though the rules state you can’t be talking about it. I have posted my story and someone there thinks I have season affective disorder because for three months I am depressed and suicidal. Being suicidal is not part of the SAD criteria. I have no other symptoms of being depressed other than being in despair and wanting to end my life, and of course, psychache. Those three symptoms are no where near the SAD criteria so I do not have SAD. It is part of the bipolar cycle. Most people with bipolar disorder will have this downfall about now through the fall. Studies have confirmed it. I think it is in the book Night falls fast or maybe touched with fire both by Kay Redfield Jamison. I am always good at remembering shit like this but not the source. It is my downfall.

Even though I feel despair, I really just feel nothing. I am numb. My heart is so heavy I can’t feel anything. I just want to be done with this. Being in pain sucks every day. One of the groups thought being in physical pain would be better than psychache. I said I thought the same until I had chronic pain and now it just makes me want to end my life all the more. I wonder what keeps me here, from not acting on my feelings and thoughts of suicide. They are frequent but more tolerable. Sometimes it is a passing thought, but tonight it is on my mind a lot. I haven’t picked a date or anything. I haven’t done that in months. In some ways, I think not seeing my ex-therapist has helped me be calmer about my suicidality rather than keep it heightened.

My psychiatrist has been trying to get me into a pain support group for months now and every time we get in touch with the coordinator, we are met with red tape. I really don’t care for this group. It can go to hell. But my psych really wants me to go to it. She thinks it can help me. I rather just not exist anymore. I mean, what is the point? I stay in my room most days and only go out when I have an appointment or feel like getting an espresso. Some days when I don’t leave the house, I don’t even make coffee. It has been having the opposite effect on me lately, making me tired rather than awake. I sleep. I have no friends outside of social media to talk to or hang out with. I am alone. I kind of like it but being in severe pain lately has really spun me around. I have been thinking of the plan that I came up with while in the hospital. I am just too cowardly to do it, I think. I just want to be gone. Away, permanently. Why is that so hard to understand??

having a rough day so I slept

Having a rough day so I slept

I woke up in pain before 0600. I couldn’t go back to sleep right away. I had a bowl of cereal around 0700 and then I was able to sleep. I woke up a few times but didn’t really get out of bed. Finally my bladder said I had to get up around 1430. My tooth was hurting me so I took some ibuprofen. I didn’t feel like eating anything as I was in pain. I brushed my teeth and that just made things worse.

I was debating having something to eat or going back to sleep. My mother called me and said she was going to make hamburgers for supper. I told her my mouth was hurting and I didn’t feel like eating. She then asks why don’t I go back to the dentist and I say I have an appt next week because my dentist is on vacation. I went back to sleep till around 1900. I made something to eat, which my mouth didn’t like. Any chewing is torture right now.

As I have been sleeping all day, I really have no idea what is going on in the news. I don’t really care at this point. My ankle has been quiet. I don’t know if this is going to change or not. I think I was tired because I was in pain all day yesterday. It’s exhausting being in pain. I just took my night meds. I hope I sleep through the night.

Tomorrow I see my psych. I am going to try and see if I can get my haircut in the morning before the appt. It all depends on what time I wake up. I could set an alarm but that doesn’t mean anything. I tend to shut it off and go back to sleep.

ramblings 151

Ramblings 151

I was bored so did some shopping on Amazon. I really shouldn’t have as my funds are getting low. Then, of course, it recommended stuff to me. I found a Moleskin notebook that I plan on getting when I get paid next. It’s sapphire blue, my favorite color and 240 pages. It will make for a decent journal.

The Sox won so I have decided to get a frame for the WinDanceRepeat photo that I have, which prompted my shopping on Amazon. I need a frame for the photo so I can hang it up. Maybe it will give them the luck they need to keep on winning games. It’s getting close to do or die time. They are in first place with a 4 game lead. I don’t know if the Skankees played today or not. My Twitter feed was filled with stupid shit. One of the people I followed was posting youtube videos so that is all I saw, which made me bored. I was too lazy to go to MLB.com to check out the scoreboard. I am sure I will find out sooner or later.

My weird pain that I had earlier today has returned. It went away with meds but I think it wore off and now it has returned. I don’t know if I will sleep. I got a lot on my mind tonight so decided to write again to try and sort it out. Or I could just talk about nothing but whatever comes to mind.

I am still feeling happy about having a concrete diagnosis about my pain. I was talking to my next door neighbor. She was dogsitting another neighbor’s dog. Surprisingly, the dog let me pet her. Usually she sniffs me and then walks away. I told her that after 7 years, I finally have a diagnosis and don’t have to see anymore docs, except for the ones I am seeing. The new doc that I am seeing in Oct is the only new doc that I will see, unless he refers me to the CRPS specialist in his practice. I am so tired of seeing docs who have no idea what is wrong with me and then brush me off or send me to another doctor or physical therapy. The last physiatrist I saw didn’t think I had CRPS, which then planted the doubts in my mind and my PCP’s. He also stupidly diagnosed me with Morton’s Neuroma, which I do not have. He squeezed the side of my foot that hurts me and that was why I screamed at him. I tried to explain that to him but it was too late. He already made up his mind that was what I had. Jerk off. I never went back to see him. When I see my neuro in a couple weeks, I will tell her to send her notes to the new neuro and my PCP. I am going to ask that those notes to my PCP have bullet points and exclamation marks and highlights. This way here when I see him in Oct, the ass doesn’t say I need to see another damn doctor and it’s clear that I do have CRPS. I think the new neuro is before his appt. I need to check my calendar.

I haven’t thought much about therapy. I suppose I should give it some thought but it’s not there. I wish he was a little more clear about the “other stuff” that I think about that is causing the symptoms of PTSD. I kind of know where he is coming from but it would be nice for him to say the words. Maybe one day I will write out the story of my second life that I lived in my fantasy world that I had to create to survive my childhood. I don’t know if it will be a blog or not. Might just be a word doc for a while. It was quite elaborate. I had such imagination at that age. It’s too bad I never wrote anything down that was useful. I was always afraid of being found out so I wrote in code and then later when I read it, I had no idea what the hell was going on.

Last night when I had the stabbing, tearing, twisting knife pain flare up, I distracted myself by watching my favorite movie, The Waterboy with Adam Sandler. I love that movie. I really want to watch Titanic but I have no idea what I did with the DVD. It’s somewhere in my room as I recently bought it. I had to buy another copy because I only had disc 1. I thought about watching Lincoln again but really didn’t feel like watching a 3 hour movie. I really want to watch Money Pit but I have no idea where that DVD is. I think it is in my case but I don’t know where that is. I don’t remember what I did with it. I think it is buried somewhere in my room. I’ll find it when I go looking for something else. That is how it works.

My foot is throbbing. It just hit midnight and I am tired but can’t seem to fall asleep. I am in a lot of pain. I want to get my haircut tomorrow. I just hope I can walk. I want to go in the morning because my pain levels are lower. I look like a chia pet right now as my hair has grown out. I want to feel the baldness of my head again. Just the back and sides. The top I leave a little something.

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.