Tag: chronic physical pain

Editing Complete and other things

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

Editing Complete

I spent a couple hours inputting the edits/changes to my book. Now I just need to write seventy-five pages to complete the book. This is if I don’t kill myself between now and the next month. I planned another date but I have therapy tomorrow so it might be curtailed. Because the holidays are next month and my next paycheck will be after the holidays, I won’t be able to see my therapist like I had hoped. I might be able to see her the week of my birthday but that will be it. I just can’t afford gifts and Zipcars.

I had a cup of tea and I think it’s causing me to not be sleepy. I did take my pain meds a little while ago so I am hoping I will sleep soon. I really don’t want to talk to my therapist. I didn’t ask for this session so I think it’s unfair that she has set this upon me. I am going to really rip into her for doing this.

I feel like this book is my second memoir as it’s mostly about my psychotic experiences. I did have some really cool delusions. It was fun to write about them, but I am sure it wasn’t fun while I was going through them. It’s usually very scary and I distrust those closest to me until the meds kick in and then I am in my “right” mind again. It was strange as I had written about my traumatic experience that brought me into therapy while listening to a song written by Taylor Swift that I swear represents my father to a T. I had it on repeat and while going through this one story, I was remembering the feelings of that night that I had written about. I couldn’t believe just how threatening my father was that night. It was then that I realized he was just a man.

If there is a song that I really love, I usually send some lyrics to my therapist. I really love Sam Hunt’s song “make you miss me”, but I can’t send her the lyrics to that one because she will have the police at my door if she can’t get in touch with me. The lyrics are powerful and I love them. I have the song on repeat right now because I want to sing the damn song without messing up on certain parts. It’s always towards the end of the song, I screw up. I will get it one of these days.

Facebook had “suggested” a publishing page for a Neil Gaiman book. I have it on Kindle but this was a leather bound book and it looked really cool. I clicked on it to see how much it was and it was fucking $100! No thanks! I will stick to my Kindle version. It had an excerpt from the book and now I am kind of nervous to read it because it talked about monsters. I don’t like scary books. His American Gods book had me freaked out. Took at least a week for me to get the images out of my head when people in the book were gruesomely killed or something weird happened. He is a brilliant writer but on the very weird side. I wanted to get his new book Troll Bridge but it’s a graphic novel. I don’t know what that means but I am guessing it is not my cup of tea. I have yet to go to the bookstore to look at it. I think that is what I am going to do from now on with his books. Not buy them until I physically look at them. Then I can decide if I want them or not. He is coming out with a mythology book in Feb. That one I would love to have, if I make it that long.

I feel like being suicidal is like living with cancer or something terminal. You just never know when you are going to die by your own hands. It could be tomorrow or it could be next week. I guess it just depends on guts. But survivor guilt has been killing me from going through with it at times. I know it will break my mother’s heart and that of my family, especially my nieces and nephew. Then I got my stupid therapist’s guilt trip whenever I bring it up. She is just expressing her feelings on the matter, which I don’t always take into consideration. I try to block them out because it’s just easier that way but then I really think about what I am doing and it stops the suicide plan and gives me some time. I hate this because I just want to fucking die because I can’t stand being in physical pain anymore.

If you have been reading my blogs the last few months, you may know that I talk about my suicidality a lot. It’s such a hard decision that can’t be taken lightly. Ambivalence is always the deciding factor. I think the statistics for suicide would be a lot higher if people weren’t ambivalent about taking their lives, mine included. Sometimes suicide is a rash decision. But for those with chronic suicidality, it really is based on being ambivalent and hopeful or hopeless about things that either keep you alive or make you want to take your life. With me, appointments with my therapist, as much as she pisses me off, gives me a kind of hope to make it through the day or the week. My psychiatrist is the same because I know she cares about me deeply. We have been working together for more than 20 years so I hope she does care about me after all this time. Next year will be our 25th anniversary. Hard to believe. That is if I am able to make it through the next month or so. Things are not looking good so far. I know I have said this a few times over the last few months and I am still here. One day, I will make good on my promise to end my life, or at least try to. It’s a tricky business trying to kill a human being. I have learned my lesson over the years. You would think that would stop my suicidal tendencies but it hasn’t. I guess I am just destined to dream of killing myself and hope one day it comes true.

Editing, Crazy Therapist, and other things

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

Editing, crazy therapist, and other things

I woke up early enough to catch the bus to go to Starbucks. I really wanted to get some editing done and I accomplished a lot but still am not finished. I have about 20 pages left, which I hope to do this afternoon. I don’t know how I am going to do it on my bed versus a table but we’ll see. I didn’t have a red pen to make notes or mark ups. I felt sad at this.

I was talking to my friend in South Africa via Twitter. I told him I was fearful of what is to come of homosexuals and transgender peoples once Trump takes office. As I fall into this category, it’s making me want to stay in the closet, so to speak. My friend offered me refuge to South Africa so I texted my therapist this. All of a sudden she flips out and now I have a session tomorrow. I tried to get out of it, but she wasn’t taking no for an answer. WTF. It’s not like me moving to South Africa is going to happen. She is nuts. I think she couldn’t wait till Tuesday to talk to me. I didn’t ask for this appointment, she just texted me after the South Africa text.

I am thinking about my father today. A friend in the UK tweeted about how her mother has bedsores from her “care” in the nursing home. That brought about the memories of my father in his last month of life. I am grateful that he never got bedsores. I still think of the day he died and how earnestly I stared at him after I gave him medication before he died. I totally despised him, even in death. I just couldn’t stand looking at him and how he still had control over us, even while he died. He leaves a hole in me but it’s small. I can’t believe I miss the bastard. I never thought how I was going to react after his death. I still haven’t “mourned” for him. There are times when the grief hits me like a ton of bricks and it’s hard to breath. Other times it’s a pang and I just want to cry but I hold back. I feel that if I cry, I will be releasing a power he held over me and I don’t want to do that, yet.

I am tired. Last night I had to turn the heat down because it got really hot in the house with all the people we had over. I don’t think my mother turned it back up because I am wicked cold. It’s in the low 50s today. Of course, I still have the AC in my window so that isn’t helping matters. I really need to clear a path to get to the AC so it can be removed. I would take it out but I am afraid that I will hurt my back in the process. There is nothing heavy in front of the window, just things need to be moved out of the way. Maybe I will do it later tonight, if I get the energy and motivation.

some kind of blog

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

I got a text from my therapist this morning that clarified that she did indeed cancel our session for this week, well that she accepted my cancelation. I just don’t feel like talking this week. I feel like we have been going non stop for months and I needed a break. Things will resume next week, if I feel like it.

Yesterday, I was in pain most of the day and it caused me to become suicidal, again. If I had enough pills, I would probably have done it today or tomorrow. I have to wait until next week when I can refill my script. I don’t feel suicidal today so my plan is mute, for now. Struggling with these tendencies has been harder and harder to deal with. I was so damn tired yesterday and no matter what pill I took, I couldn’t not get to sleep at all until the evening hours. I took two strong pain pills because the pain was out of this world. I just couldn’t get on top of it.

Today is my middle sister’s birthday. I did a lot of stuff on my feet that I am sure is going to keep me up most of the night. Chairs were limited so I stood most of the time. It went well. I think that was the first time I spent the whole party with my family without retreating to my room.

My ankle is still sore and my toes are throbbing. It’s going to be a long night. My depression is looming. I am tired but I know I am not going to be able to sleep. Painsomnia will keep me awake, I am sure of that.

I haven’t left the house all day. I am trying to recover from yesterday’s day of hell. Friday I have the appointment with my psych and repro endo doc. They are early appointments so I will be spending most of the morning at the hospital. It’s going to be a long day.

For the Love of Espresso

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

For the Love of Espresso

Yesterday, I made coffee at home and when I poured the half and half, there was shit on top. I asked my mother if it was fine and she said it was “cream”. Coffee tasted okay and I didn’t die as I am living to tell the story. Today, the curdling was worse and I wasted a cup of coffee. I was pissed because the half and half was a new quart that hadn’t been opened yet and had an expiration of Dec 21. I had a Neurontin hangover and I desperately needed coffee. But it was Sunday and there were no direct buses to the Square. I just missed the bus going near the Square, which pissed me off more. I had to wait an hour for the next one. I decided to sojourn in the opposite direction and take the trek to Station Landing, where there was a Starbucks.

I decided just to bring my book with me because I didn’t want to carry anything heavy as that would make the long walk more strenuous. I was feeling pretty good so it wasn’t much difficulty getting to my happy place. I stayed for an hour after having a sandwich and my much desired drink. I read to the point where Lincoln is elected president, South Carolina secedes from the Union and the Lincoln family enters the White House, along with Hay and Nicholay in tow.

It took me fifteen minutes to get back to the train station and to my stop. Not bad for someone who is disabled. Though by the time I was waiting for the bus home, my ankle was starting to throb and increased by the time I got home. I took a pain pill soon as I got into my room. My sister had invited us for dinner and I was just in time. I was kind of hungry from my travels so the timing was perfect. I had half a glass of wine before I realized I had just taken a pain pill. OOPS. I hope it doesn’t cause drowsiness because I don’t want to fall asleep this early. Last night I fought against the drowsiness and couldn’t sleep until nearly 0300. Anxiety from possible pain kept me awake. It was terrible.

I have my first session of CBT tomorrow. I am really nervous as I am more psychodynamic than a cognitive person. To me, this therapy is rigid and I don’t like rigid but, unfortunately, all the current research has lead to say this form of therapy helps those with chronic health conditions so I am giving it a shot against my better judgement. I hope the therapist is willing to work with me and not against me, with the “I know better” attitude. I will be out the door so fast if this is the case. I also hope that the therapist allows my therapist and I to work while doing this as an adjunctive thing. I have mixed feelings about this therapy and the process. I hope it will be a brief therapy, with kind of a relapse therapy sessions available if needed kind of thing. AND it MUST focus more on my pain issues than my depression as the pain is more debilitating me than the depression right now. I also hope the therapist isn’t going to freak out when she finds out about my suicidality. That is another element I am afraid of, being turned down because I am “too sick” for therapy. I don’t know if this therapist is on the up that CBT can actually help suicidal thinking as well. I really hope I don’t have to be the professor either. She is a resident, not a full fledged therapist so we’ll see. If I have to resort to being a suicidologist to her, I will. I have a full library on the subject so I think I know what the hell I am talking about. I just wish I had the time to read Craig Bryan’s book about CBT in suicidality. Damn depression. Maybe I will take it with me and show it to her so to give her background that this isn’t my first therapist and won’t be my last that I have to “train”.

I had to further aggravate my ankle/foot by going downstairs again because I had to use the bathroom. I don’t know who’s brilliant idea it was to have bedrooms upstairs without at least a half bath. Sure it would make the bedrooms smaller but it would be a life saver!