midnight demon writes again

Midnight demon writes again

It is about half past midnight. I just had something to eat. I tried making myself a deep dish pizza for dinner and burned it pretty bad that it was hard as a rock. I lost my appetite and so haven’t had much to eat today. I knew if I didn’t eat, I wouldn’t be able to sleep. But turns out, pain is keeping me up anyways.

The part of my leg that is swollen has gotten bigger. The day before it was the size of my palm. Now it is the size of my hand. It for some reason, became really painful after I had stood for a while to clear out one of the shelves of my bookcase. I went on my bed to relax my back as it had started to spasm. Next thing I know my lower leg down to my foot was in such intense pain, I couldn’t breathe. I started to have an anxiety attack. I couldn’t touch my leg where it was hurting and that was a bad sign to me that made me panic even more. I just lay there trying to collect myself and grab the pain bottle to take a pill. I think that was harder as I had to move to do so. Half hour later, pain was starting to subside enough I could touch my leg and that is when I notice the swelling had spread up my leg. If I was panicked then, I was more so now. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t stand and walk anywhere as the pain was so great. Even an hour later when I had to pee it was painful going down the stairs and using the bathroom. I had talked to my niece and lost my voice. I sounded like a goddamn squirrel. No idea why. No matter how many times I cleared my throat, it sounded off. Fucking puberty.

Anyway, I talked to a Twitter friend and she wanted me to go to the ER. I texted my sister, but she wasn’t home. Fuck. There goes my ride. I wasn’t about to take the T anywhere. I took an Ativan and once that kicked in to take my anxiety away, I calmed down a bit. I also emailed my psych to let her know what was going on. I decided to try some diclofenac gel to try and ease whatever inflammation there was and see if it helped the pain. As I was ready to apply it, my psych emailed me back to keep her posted and let her know if I go to the ER. I am hoping I don’t have to because it is Easter and I will have a super long wait for something that really isn’t an emergency. I don’t have redness or broken skin oozing fluid. I just have a painful lump on my leg. I see my PCP Tues and I hope I can hold off on ER visits until then. I started thinking about this. The pain was similar to what I was experiencing prior to my dismissal from work, basically telling me I was disabled and couldn’t work. The time off gave my leg some much needed rest time. I have been walking more than I have been the past few weeks, as well as standing longer than I usually do. I also have been trying to do some balance work my PT wants me to do, which means putting some weight on my left leg. I have no idea if that aggravated the tendon that gets inflamed when I walk too much because I am compensating. I knew if I went to the ER or even an urgent care center, odds were they would just refer me to my pcp for whatever. They might do x-rays and an ultrasound to rule out a blood clot in my leg (highly unlikely) but that would be it. And the ultrasound would be on my calf, not the area where the swelling is so not useful at all. I am sure my pcp is not going to be able to figure it out and I hope that the weight loss/loss of appetite and this swelling is not related.

So the leg pain finally subsided after the diclofenac but then my veins started popping and my foot felt like it was being crushed so I was, once again, in a flare. This is day 2. My thoughts immediately went to why the fuck am I still alive. Then I think of what my psych said and I fucking hate her. Hate her because she wants me to live and she is fond of me. I looked straight at her when she told me this so I know she wasn’t bullshitting me. She genuinely meant what she said. I don’t think that I am meant to do something great. Yes, I could write another book. But goddamn it, I am not a fucking writer. Yes, I write blogs. But that is what I do because it helps me and possibly others. I know I don’t get as much feedback as I once did but fuck, my stats tell me someone reads my blog every day, even if only 8 people do.

Pain has been my nemesis. It causes me to be suicidal in an instant. Then in the morning, I am usually okay and feel better and am no longer want to end my life. But I am not at that stage right now. I am in the suicidal moment where I want to do what I want to do to end things. Except I can’t. As much as I have this fucking deep surging urge to do it, I do not want a family member to find me in that state. It is the only fucking thing keeping me alive at this time. Sure my family pisses me the fuck off so I wouldn’t care if they found me. But something, and I don’t know what, keeps me from acting on my urges. I can think about them all I want, fantasize all I want but when it comes to times like this, I am so fucking on the edge of live/die that I just get so frustrated that I don’t do fucking shit. I just ponder some more. Fantasize some more. Then I am reading a book about wills and realize I didn’t sign and date it to make it official. FUCK! I don’t remember where I put the notepad I wrote the fucking thing on. This is pure agony. The mental agony of going through living vs dying and being in so much fucking pain you want to end your life. This is the life of the midnight demon. Always until the urge to act prevails.

bad few days

Bad few days

Since Saturday, I have been having back pain. I didn’t do anything as I just woke up with it. The barometric pressure has been up and down like a yo-yo and temps have been crazy as well. I know once it levels off, I should be ok. In the meantime, it is hard to move and walk. Sitting is also difficult.

My mood has sucked all week. I have been having intense suicidal urges upon awakening and throughout the day. I sent my psychiatrist the post I posted on Monday. She said it was complex. I also sent the blog to my pcp’s social worker but have not heard back from her. I just feel like I don’t want any help right now. But my psych wants to know what I am up to and things because my suicidality has peaked. She also is not letting me be. Last Friday, she wanted me to call her midweek and if I didn’t, she would call me. Yesterday, she called me after I told her I wasn’t going to call her. I had gotten into an argument with my sisters and didn’t want to speak to anyone, much less her. I just don’t see the point. I am better off alone to deal with my stuff. I somehow get through it, though this time seems to be harder than it has been in the past. I kind of do but don’t want help. I don’t want help because I don’t think it will actually help me. I think it will just frustrate me yet the ingrained sense of “reaching out” when feeling this way is hard to resist. My psychiatrist has told me that if I feel like acting, I am to call her first. That kind of defeats the whole purpose of trying to act on my feelings. God I am so confused.

Last night, it was determined that my leather chair will be removed. I paid $300 for that chair. I thought about getting rid of my uncle’s desk but now I don’t want to. Fuck my sister for wanting to get rid of my things. She has threatened me that if she cleans my room and I don’t keep it clean she will “kill me”. On the other hand, if she does try, I will break her hands. My other sister wants me to get rid of books that I haven’t used in a long time. It is my books that I spent good money for. They aren’t getting rid of or placed in the basement to get musty or worse, ruined. I had books down there and they got ruined once. I am not going to do that again.

Because of my pain, I haven’t been able to do anything to clear my room or the boxes downstairs. Now they want to me to pack the stuff in my bedroom, to put in the living room. Where the fuck this stuff is to go, I have no clue. Fucking the office stuff is taking up a good portion of the living room already. I am just so stressed out and don’t even want to do a damn thing. Also I heard my sister tell my mother that I go out and have coffee but don’t clear my things. I only go out for coffee if I have my a damn appointment. That has been the only time I leave the house! So according to her, I am to be housebound just to clear boxes and clean my room?? I am so sick of this shit. They really think that my pain is no reason why I shouldn’t clear stuff. That I must be faking my disability. Next week I am getting paid and I am so fucking tempted NOT to give a cent to my mother. Maybe then they will get a fucking clue that I live here, too. Because right now, I feel like I can’t have anything in this house except my bedroom. And I will be damned to give half of my social security check just to be locked up in it!

Well, this is the stress I am dealing with which hasn’t helped my pain at all. I need to stop right now because I need to lay down. I can no longer sit. Hope the Tylenol and Ibuprofen help my back pain.

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Darkest depression and other things

Darkest depression and other things

Yesterday I wanted to write a blog but couldn’t get the words together. I haven’t been eating. Sunday I had only a protein bar. Yesterday was just a bologna sandwich. I spoke with my psych as she wanted me to talk. She is worried about how much weight I have lost and not having an appetite. I am to call her tomorrow to check in and I am scared she might say hospital. I lost another five pounds so that makes twenty over the course of one month. I am losing five pounds per week, all because I am barely eating. I haven’t had anything to eat today. I want to order my from my favorite roast beef place but it is a lot of food so not sure it would be worth spending $15 for food and not be able to eat it.

I went to PT today even though my back was sore. I took an Uber there as it has been easier than trying to navigate public transportation. I am progressing slowly. My PT tried to point out the good but I was too hopeless to hear or take in what she was saying. I just felt like a failure because all week I haven’t been able to do my exercises.

After PT, I went to the grocery store to get some more Powerade and the chicken patties I have been craving. I also bought dinosaur chicken nuggets. If I eat some, maybe that will be better than nothing. My back was still killing me from walking around the store so I took an Uber home. I am glad I did. I then went to the dumb new pharmacy to pick up my meds and asked about the other one that was N/A. It didn’t transfer over so I got to call the doc to resend it. Nearly every prescription I have done with the app or had my doctor send over, I had to call about. I’ve never dealt with such incompetence before. I have let the upper management know they suck and even though I have used them since I moved here in 1992, I am teetering on moving to another chain. I am not going to go through this hassle every month!

I came home and I didn’t want to eat. I am hungry because my stomach is growling. I just have no desire to eat. My mother is making stir fry with rice. I will try and eat some of that. I am starting to feel weak from not eating. I’ve never had depression this bad that I stopped eating like this. My psychiatrist even said I am not myself, that this isn’t me. She has never known me to not eat. I feel so blah that I don’t care.

My sister has moved in. My mother has been after me for two days trying to clear my office stuff from the living room. I can’t do anything today. Yesterday I cleared out some of the stuff that is in a huge box, hence why my back is so damn sore. I won’t be able to do anything until it calms down. I am almost through with the stuff and then I can make room for the bins downstairs. Think once the box is done, I will go through my bookcase first and take down some books/binders that are not being used nor care to look at anymore. I can move some of the books on the floor on the shelves. Hopefully that will be done this week but I am really not sure. It all depends on how things go with my psych tomorrow.