Tag: chronic physical pain

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.

hopeless yet hopeful

by Midnight Demon, posted in chronic physical pain, depression, mood disorders, suicide, suicide attempt

Today is the first day of the American Association of Suicidology’s annual conference. I have been getting tweet updates all day from my fellow Twitter buddies. One of them won the writing contest that I had also entered in. I posted the blog earlier today.

I have been astounded that researchers are finally getting a clue that psychache and hopelessness goes hand in hand when dealing with suicidal thoughts. Shneidman would be proud. And they are finding this across the age groups, including youth suicide. I know from experience that was what lead me to self harm and also to think of death constantly. It wasn’t until 2007 while working on a term paper did I realize that only Shneidman had made the connection so brilliantly. Course he never did an empirical study of it. He was out there in the trenches doing the actual work to help decrease suicide. If I hadn’t come across his work and then the work of Jobes, I doubt that I would still be here.

Reading these tweets always makes me feel like I am missing out. Though I know that if I was there, I wouldn’t know how to tweet during a lecture. I would be more interested in what the person was saying than trying to remember it and then post it on Twitter. I suppose I could take notes of what they were saying and then tweet. They had Marsha Linehan today and she told her story of how she was mentally ill with borderline personality disorder, was hospitalized for a good number of years and that the treatment was awful. She made a promise to God that if she got out of her hell, she would try and get others out of theirs. I hate when I am feeling like scum of the universe, feeling hopeless as anything, and then this conference happens to lighten the load so to speak. I truly was in awe that Dr. Linehan came out and was inspirational. She said that to decrease suicide, you have to decrease the pain. And also to use skills to cope. Of course she would say that. She is the founder of DBT! But I think she has softened in her rigidity of DBT as a cure all over the years. She is the one that pushed Jobes into research for CAMS and why would she do that if she thought that DBT was the answer to everything. I minimally respected her before today. But as I am getting to know her more, the more I am respecting her.

Jobes was also at the conference. No surprise there. He was on a panel of speakers but between the tweets, I couldn’t really figure out where he was coming from. The message was that even though he has trained thousands of clinicians in his modality, it didn’t change their behavior toward suicide. And that is sad. He wants the younger clinicians to step and do the research as to why that is.

Last night I was in a pretty bad state of mind. I still don’t want to live. But if Marsha Linehan can come back from mental illness, then maybe I can, too. I know the suicidal thoughts are always going to be there. It is my default coping mechanism. Over the years, I have learned what it took to distract me from going through with these thoughts. I have only come close to killing myself twice in the last two years, no matter how dark and dreary my depressions got me. But figuring this out wasn’t easy. It mostly comes through in hindsight and after the episode has passed. And then I am left feeling like, “did that really happen”? My therapist assures me that I go through these bouts frequently. Which is why she is adamant about me keeping my appointments, no matter how hopeless I get.

how can I keep myself away from me

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

How can I keep myself away from me

I tried the not talking approach to my therapist today. I think it works better in person than it does on the phone. I just did not want to talk today at all. She tried to get me to engage with questions and I just shot her down. I kept telling her this is all pointless. Then she went off about how much I mean to her, and on and on with things like that. I just couldn’t hear her. I tuned her out, like I have most of my friends and family lately.

She wanted me to list the reasons why I want to kill myself. I thought about sending her the blog I wrote the other day but I can’t remember which blog it was. Once I write something, I forget it. It’s like mental eraser once I put it in a blog or on paper. So I will make a new list and please don’t think this is a whine list. I am already close to the edge and it won’t take much to push me off.

I don’t want to live anymore because I am not a full human, I am not a man. I will never be accepted by the society I live in, even if I were to get hormones. The people close to me, my family, will never call me a him or he. I will never be an Uncle, though I can’t imagine after almost 21 years, I can be called that. I have gotten so used to “aunty” that it just suits me, even though it isn’t the right gender preference.

I want to end my life because CES sucks. I am tired of being in pain every single day of my life, in some way, shape, or form. I can’t even have a bowel movement without pain, even if the shit is soft, I hurt. It’s all nerve pain so I doubt anything can be done about it. Luckily it goes away but I suffer for at least 15 minutes to a half hour after every movement. I never thought my life would come to this. And peeing myself every day is no help. I thought that shaving my pubic hairs would help but it doesn’t. I still smell if I don’t shower every other day. The worse part is that I don’t even know I am wet. I don’t have normal sensation down there since my second CES diagnosis. I know people can laugh it off but it really sucks for me because unless I use a pad (which is difficult with boxers), I leak. I just don’t realize I am full until afterwards. My urge to go is not that strong.

Dealing with depression and all that comes with it. The mental pain of living every day when you hurt physically and mentally yet you can’t take a narcotic pain med to ease that ache. I have tried. I once took a handful to ease the mental pain and it did nothing, NOTHING, for me. How can you continue to see a psychiatrist or a therapist knowing they cannot ease your pain. I have tried, desperately and in vain, to find something, anything, to ease this psychache. But all I get is talk therapy to address it. I am tired of talking about it. Nothing helps. Writing used to but now I just think I am a whine bag, going on and on about my little complaints on why I want to take my life.

I never will go back to school again. I will never embrace the academia again and that hurts me more than I say. I will never earn enough or save enough to go back to school, unless I hit the lottery but you have to play to win. I don’t even have the extra buck to play. I never will get my degree that I long for. And I feel like I have let my family down because of this. If I never got sick with mental illness, things would have been different. But this damn illness always gets the best of me. I have to go into the hospital at least once a year, sometimes twice because I just can’t handle “life” and need a “vacation”. If I didn’t have yet another breakdown in 2008, I probably would have got my degree by now and I wouldn’t be fucked with my loans. I don’t blame anyone for this. I blame myself for being sick. Living on SSD is not always as it is cracked up to be.

Then we have the employment issue. Will I ever be able to hold a job again? The past two months I have been plagued with hypomanias and psychosis which if I was working, would have been worse and I would be in the hospital again. And this is without a job! How am I supposed to handle work responsibilities when I can’t even handle no responsibilities? With the Long Term Disability still hanging over me, I still cannot get a job even if I wanted to. I really would like to go back to my old job part time. I just want to feel useful again. I don’t feel like I deserve to live because I feel so worthless. And being an author didn’t exactly give me the fame I thought it would. I still fight for every sale, every month. But self-promoting is hard work, harder than I thought it would be. I thought that when my book went on Amazon, it would fly off the shelves, so to speak. Hardly that. I never thought it would reach a best 100 status, that would be impossible and an unreachable goal. But to be in the millionth rank, well, that was not what I was expecting. And then you had to create an author page. I hate the way I look so I neglected for almost a year to put a pic up. I still don’t know what to say in bio so left that blank. All these things you need to do and yet no one tells you. You just learn as you go.

I hate my body image. I hate the way I look. I always have. I really don’t think that is ever going to change. I avoid mirrors like the plague. And no matter what pic or selfie I take, I always look like a moron. I am just not photogenic, but that isn’t what drives me to kill myself. I just hate me, everything about me sucks.

I think I have listed enough reasons why I want to take my life. These are the top ones.

Stupid back pain

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

Stupid back pain

I don’t know what I did today but the side of my back is killing me. It’s making it difficult to sit or lie down. It also has been cramping so I have taken an extra baclofen to try and ease the spasms. I would have taken an Ativan but I don’t want to go to sleep. I am already sleepy because again, I had an awful night sleep. I woke up early this morning in pain. And then when I did get up to face the day, I was still in pain so took some more pain meds. This is why I don’t understand why my back is hurting. I also took an anti inflammatory med to try and ease it as I know it is muscular and not anything else. I think I need a massage on my legs and lower back/hip. I don’t know of a place that does it. The last place I went to before I had surgery in 2006 nearly killed me. I was already in pain but was in worse pain afterwards. It’s hard to find a good massage therapist at a reasonable cost.

I haven’t been in the best of moods today because I have been in so much pain and discomfort. I really am wondering if this is what my life is going to be like from now until eternity. I cannot fathom that, which is why I want to take my life before that happens. I really have been in an awful mood, sometimes weepy at times. Today is the anniversary of when the Titanic sank and President Lincoln was assassinated. Lincoln was my favorite president. I think I have read more about him than about any other president. I like Reagan, too. I have read some stuff on him but not as much as Lincoln. So today, for me anyways, is a solemn day. 1523 people lost their lives when their luxury ship struck an iceberg. I also have done research into the Titanic because I felt bad so many people lost their lives, when if they had measures they have today, it wouldn’t have been so disastrous.

I reluctantly had therapy today and will tomorrow. It was a hard session. My therapist was pissed off that I tried to cancel another week. Now she is not letting me go for any reason. I still need next Wed off because I have an appointment with my PCP. Session went disastrously. My therapist kept asking why I wanted to end my life and for the life of me, all I could think of was, why not? I am tired of being in pain. I am tired of breathing. If I could give my life to someone else, I would in a heartbeat. I just don’t want to be anymore. She read my goodbye letter and it disturbed her. She tried reading my psychosis story but it was too long for her to read. She didn’t have the time. She thinks that it should be in a book or something. I told her I have stopped working on my book because of my impending death. She still thinks she can talk me out of it and refuses to end therapy. I told her I was protecting her.

I wish I could just die right now. I just don’t feel like I can go on. I am just so tired of struggling. I need to stop here because pain is preventing me from sitting anymore. I need to get some pain relief.