Tag: chronic pain

Don’t Start

by Midnight Demon, posted in Bipolar Disorder, blogging, chronic physical pain

I can’t fricken sleep. So I thought I would write about why I can’t sleep. It’s because of pain I can’t sleep. I never took my shower like I wanted to. The pain was too bad. It’s worse now that it’s almost 0130 in the morning. It’s not surprising. I haven’t been keeping on with medicating myself. I just took two pain pills to try and get me to sleep.

I joined a chat tonight and it didn’t go well. I hate it when I say something and then I am “attacked” for what I say or it is taken the wrong way. But other people got my meaning. It just takes one jerk to get me upset. The Sox losing also got me upset. I had taken a break to join the chat after Breslow gave up a three run blast to make it 8-0. What is really funny, and I mean the HAHA kind, is that the starting pitcher, who gave up 5 runs and lost his second outing, thinks he is going to be the Cy Young winner this year. HA, with his ERA, he is seriously smoking something.

I am 100 pages away from finishing the Graveyard Book. It’s getting more interesting but there are still questions left unanswered and I am not sure they are going to be. I fucking hate that. But I am too tired to finish it tonight. I really hope my glasses are done tomorrow, but I doubt it. I really want to see good again. Even as I am typing this, I am having a hard time focusing.

It really sucks when you are in a foul mood. I am playing Terri Clark’s “Don’t Start” to try and calm me down but it’s not working. I am all riled up and I don’t know why. My mother had a hypo attack today. She threw up and her sugar dropped. My sister had to give her OJ and fed her a sandwich. Then she got sick again the other end. I feel bad and now I am watching her to make sure she doesn’t go downhill again. It’s so stressful being on alert all the time for these types of things. I can’t sleep when this happens. Probably one of the reasons why I am still up. Between the pain and worry, I am just not sleepy enough, despite being tired.

I really wished I killed myself the other day. I am so tired of living this life. My therapist’s parting words from our last session was don’t discount her love for me and appreciation for me. There was a third thing (my therapist likes to say things in three’s) but I don’t remember what it was. I hate my therapist. But I don’t know what I would do without her. I love her, too and that complicates things. UGH, it drives me crazy. I really dislike being loved and having it used against me. I wish I could be a heartless person but I’m not.

It’s weird that I can feel the love of my therapist but I can’t of my own family members. I just can’t see to feel anything with my family. I question their love because I am distrustful of it. I know I can’t trust my father when he tells me he loves me because he is a pathological liar. My mother never says the “L” word, at all. My sister do more frequently. I tend to trust them a little but more, but I can never take it in. I am not even sure if I really love them. I just have grown immune to it, jaded even. We exchange words but it’s mostly via text message. Never said out loud. I will tell my nieces and nephew I love them out loud and via text message. I mean it with them. And it’s important that they know. They help keep me here. I know my nephew has the strongest hold on me because he is the oldest.

I have been getting hot flashes at night and tonight is no different. I have the ceiling fan on because I am really hot. I don’t know what is causing these hot flashes. I brought it up to my PCP when I saw him last but he just blew me off. I guess because I wasn’t having any other symptoms, I was fine. It’s just uncomfortable because sometimes I have to remove clothing to get relief. It sucks!

Day at the museum

by Midnight Demon, posted in blogging, chronic physical pain, depression

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Day at the museum

I had fun at the museum. I learned a lot about the Maya, in more detail than I did while taking a class many years ago. I once wrote a Maya calendar paper. It was intricate and sometimes confusing. I have it in my archives if you want to read it. The pic in this blog post is my Maya date. The top part represent the bak’tun, tuns, and other stuff I can’t remember right now. The numbers with the dot separating them represents the Maya long count and the 9 Chickchan 13 Mak represents the animal year. I had fun but my ankle is not too happy with me right now. The movie we saw kind of made me nauseous, especially after we just ate. Eating before the movie probably wasn’t a good idea. I had to close my eyes during some of the movie.

I did a lot of standing, which made my ankle angry now that I am relaxing. I also did a fair amount of stair climbing, which also meant I had to go down the stairs. I got a good workout today. Kind of made me wish I had a salad for lunch rather than a cheeseburger. I am a sucker for a burger. I am wicked tired and probably won’t do anything tomorrow, unless my prescription gets filled at the pharmacy. I am having it transferred from mail order to retail because my doc fucked up the 90 day supply and just gave me a 30 day supply. I refuse to pay $20 when I can pay ten. I got my pain medication filled so I really don’t have to go back out today. I hope the transfer goes through in the next few days as I am running low on my BP meds. I didn’t think it was going to be a hassle but I guess it kind of is.

I was able to go to my happy place this morning before the trip to the museum. I wrote in my journal for a bit, like I usually do if I have time. I got the Tribute coffee, iced. It was good but I kind of wish I got a larger size. I have been getting a smaller size coffee to try and decrease the amount of calories I take in. It sucks! But with me not being active, it’s the little things I am trying to do.

I need a shower but there is no way my ankle is going to put up with that nonsense. It already is sending me fuck you’s. I guess I am in bed the rest of the night. This so sucks. But I have my game I can play and a book I can read if I feel like it. Sucks that in 3 days, I will no longer have my game. I really wonder what my FB feed is going to look like without my game feed. I am going to miss it terribly.

two days of pain

by Midnight Demon, posted in Bipolar Disorder, chronic physical pain, depression

I woke up around 0630 in pain, again. It was the continuation of last night. I took some pain meds and then hobbled to the kitchen to make some breakfast. After that, I went back to sleep and stayed asleep until my mother called me around 1515. I heard her come home and was going to yell at her for not telling her second mother (aka my aunt, her sister) that she went to the doctors this morning. My aunt, who definitely has an anxiety disorder, was flipping out because she couldn’t contact my mother. She was calling the house like every fifteen minutes. I luckily had turned off my phone because if she woke me up, not like she didn’t with the million phone calls to my mother’s line, I would have screamed at her. She left me a panicked message and then when I called she was even more panicked but sly. She said she was going to go to the house (which I doubt as she never goes anywhere outside her home). She lives a few houses down from me. But the whole situation and the excess worry was for nothing. She had forgotten my mother told her she was going to the doctors and when she couldn’t remember, she was in a panic of her own anxiety making, calling the doctor’s office to see if she was there. Surprising to me that the office would tell someone that they were at the office given that is what HIPPAA is all about. I guess someone didn’t care this morning and gave my crazy aunt the information she was looking for. Not ever going to that doctor’s office. I am just bullshit that my sleep got interrupted, again by this crazy bitch. And it’s not like she waits three rings, nope. She calls and lets the phone ring for an eternity or at least until the damn answering machine kicks on. I am so annoyed. When my mother called me around 1515, I did yell at her. I don’t know why my aunt is so fucking nervous about not getting in touch with my mother fifty times a day. And if she doesn’t get a hold of her, she fucking panics, like the world is coming to an end.

I tried going along with the conference tweeting today but I just wasn’t as interested. They had someone tweet Jobes this morning and the tweeter kept misspelling his name, so I would modify the tweet and correct it. She has done this a few times in the last day or so, misspelling people’s names. And it is annoying me. Get it right or don’t tweet at all, for crying out loud. People are not going to know who Jones is or Quinet. Then I got a tweet that one of the past presidents of AAS was doing a panel with students. I cringed. I hate this guy and the fact that he is trying to influence fresh minds, well, it bothers me! He just rubs me the wrong way.

I still am in pain and might go back to sleep. I emailed my psychiatrist with a “why” subject line and then realized, I never asked her a question. She never responded. I might email her again and ask what is the point of living this crap when I am in pain all the time. And I don’t mean mentally this time. Two days of being in pain is not fun. I really feel like a HUGE hypocrite because I am for suicide prevention for others, just not my own. I know one day I will die by my own hand. Question is when.

I just am not a happy person. I have accepted myself as being chronically depressed. I don’t think things are ever going to get better, for me, anyways. My mood is like the stats of blog. One day I might be hitting 80 views and the next I might hit 9. Or vice versa. I never really know who will be reading my blog just like I don’t really know how my day is going to go. I do know that if I am in pain, I am screwed. I stay home, I don’t go out. I take my pain meds that either knock me out or keep me up. I am just glad I have Starbucks coffee that I make at home. It might not keep me up the entire day, especially when I take my meds, but it sure clears the cobwebs so I can write or read.

Right now I am reading The Idiot by Dostoevsky. My therapist asked me what it was about and I wouldn’t tell her. I was not in the mood to give her a book report. Frankly, this book has taken so many turns in the first part that I don’t think I am following it. But it keeps you wanting more, and so I read more. I haven’t read it in a few days because my head just couldn’t get into it. Plus, the print of the book is tiny and I am having trouble reading it as my glasses are now expired. I hope with the new set of glasses, the print is better. I am going to get new glasses sometime next week, if I can get to Harvard. But it all depends on if I get my LTD payment or not and my level of pain. I really wanted to get out today but waking up before 0700 just sucked and I got depressed. I said the hell with it. I didn’t even make coffee today.

Saturday blog 18

by Midnight Demon, posted in Bipolar Disorder, blogging, cauda equina syndrome, chronic physical pain, depression, suicide

Saturday Blog 18

I slept for most of the morning, which was good because I didn’t sleep good for most of the night. Pain kept waking me up. My brother in law was going to Stop and Shop so I went with him to get a few things. He told me my mother needed milk so I picked it up as well. I didn’t get my fish and chips like I wanted to because I was low on cash. I could just get the essentials, like cream, my powerade, and milk for my mother. That was all that I needed. When I get paid in two weeks, I will do real grocery shopping. I won’t be paying my cell phone bill again because it is already paid for the month. For the first time in months, I will have a little extra money so I might just get another online grocery order. It will save me time and energy from walking around the store. I can just click on what I want.

After the grocery store, I made coffee and watched the baseball game. We won 8-4. In the Bronx. Against the Skankees. HEHEHE. They made a costly error and then loaded the bases and we capitalized on it. Instead of the inning to be over, Aroid took his foot off the bag after review of the play. It was sweet that my favorite player, Brock Holt, then hit a double that cleared the bases. This guy is amazing. He was awesome last year and his awesomeness is continuing this year.

After the ball game, I watched some of my shows. I had to watch the Criminal Minds episode with Gary Sinise. I miss CSI NY so much that to see Gary again was a thrill. He still looks the same.

Other than going to the grocery store, I really haven’t done anything yet I feel really tired. I haven’t played any games all day. It was just sleep, store, baseball game, tv. I guess that is a lot of doing nothing but my ankle would beg to differ. It is hurting like I have been standing on it all day. I don’t know why, as I mostly have been sitting or reclining. But that is the pain syndrome for you. It does what it wants, with no rhyme or reason.

I wonder why is it that if you have terminal cancer and was given only a few months to live, people accept that reality more often than if someone says they are going to kill themselves. I keep thinking about things like this because cancer is held higher than suicide when it is just the same. You are going to die either way. Either through your own terms or cancer’s. And if you survive cancer, you are considered a hero. Yet you attempt suicide, you are shamed and blasted upon. I have accepted that I will probably take my life sometime this year. It is something I have thought about for sometime and though I am not thinking about suicide every day like I used to, I have a specific date that I want to end my life. Not because of shits and giggles, but because I am tired of being in pain all the time, mentally and physically. I know nothing can happen with my life. I fucked it up and there is no unfucking it, not unless I win the lottery. I will never be a therapist because I can’t go back to school. I am in the minority. I am transgendered and never will be accepted by anyone. And I just can’t live with this knowledge. My dreams went up in smoke when I became disabled, when I got diagnosed with mental illness when I was 16. I tried having a life but it just isn’t working out. I am depressed nearly every day for no good reason. I am tired of living this way. It must come to an end. I am just going to die anyway and I rather it be on my terms.