Protected: When the cubic model of suicide is 5

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Saturday Blog 1632019

Saturday blog 1632019

I haven’t done much today except read. I never changed my bedding. I will try tomorrow. I didn’t go to bed till after 5 am. I think the first lights of dawn were filtering in my room just as I passed out. I sort of had pain and then it backed off but my brain didn’t want to sleep. I was in a depressive funk, again.

I am reading Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. It isn’t my favorite book. One is because of Rita Skeeter. The second is the description of how Voldemort came back. The movie did it okay but reading it is kind of gruesome as you picture what happens. It is fun at least until the final contest where Cedric dies. I guess I don’t like it for many reasons.

My foot started acting up again about a half hour ago. Most of the day, I have been thinking more about my plan. I keep flitting back and forth. Some moments it is all I can think about whereas others I am okay and thinking of something else. I created a new playlist of old country songs. Most of them are the women from the 90’s and early 2000’s. I had to have Reba and Terri Clark. I was listening to Terri Clark’s podcast before I turned in to sleep. She had Lorrie Morgan on her show. I haven’t heard her songs (Lorrie’s) in a very long time. I plan on buying her Greatest hits CD when I get paid next. I miss listening to my favorite women country artists on the radio like Martina McBride, Sara Evans, Anita Cochran. Terri and Lorrie made mention of the benefit concert for Anita and I had to get one of her songs I love called “What if I said”. Men have taken up the airwaves and it is sad. Even the awards shows don’t have too many female nominees, and if they do, their music isn’t up here.

I looked at the Sox thread after they posted the score to today’s game. They won and yet there was a lot of criticism already and I am so disgusted. It is only fucking spring training so of course they aren’t as sharp. Hell, last year I didn’t think they would go all the way and they did. They won the freaking world series! They didn’t win all 162 games, either. So shut the fuck up. Jeez. Ok, so they won 108, but who’s counting. Hehehe.

Free form blog

Writing this from phone so who knows if it will substitute words…

My CRPS foot has swelled up. Big toe is huge and foot is a melon. I have no idea why. I might have put more weight on it because of the heel pain in my right foot. Either way I cannot get the damn lower leg to relax enough so I can bloody sleep! Like WTF. I turn it this way and that and the muscles start trembling, in my foot and lower leg. I am fucking tired.

I got about two or three suicide notes to write. I got to find my post that have these lyrics because stupid me didn’t put the date on anything and it is bugging me. I am waiting for meds to kick in. Took another melatonin and ativan. Also took baclofen for the tremors. I don’t know what else to take.

Oh and you should NOT MIX ATIVAN/LORAZEPAM WITH ALCOHOL, LIKE EVER.

Just had to get that off my chest. I have been in bad moods before but this sucks. I am now feeling hopeless things will get better. I have PT tomorrow and no idea if I will be able to walk. I might get my nephew to drive me, if he isn’t doing anything. But not sure he will like going near where my father used to live and I don’t want to trigger him.

I wrote two more notes. Think two more are in order and then I will feel better to those left behind. Still few weeks away. Still may not go through with it. But it is on my mind tonight. Chronic pain is driving this more than anything or anyone else. I am just s hopeless case with bipolar disorder and unbearable pain, physical and emotional. I always knew one day I would die by my own hand. I just wish it was sooner than now. Last year was the right time. I wasted opportunity after opportunity. I just can’t deal with this bullshit anymore. Night after night after night of pain and no sleep. I’ve reached my breaking point. I call uncle.

Daylight saving time sucks!

Daylight saving time sucks!

Last night I was just reading. I finished Langford’s Leap by Ted Boone. It was such a good female hero book. I cannot wait for the second book to come out. After I finished that, I read this memoir that I started in December. I might have mentioned it before as a “sugar-coated” book. It is terribly written and I just couldn’t finish it. It was getting me so damn frustrated because of the drops and not explaining then going on to something else. It also used mental health and mental illness like it was interchangeable (sorry, it most definitely is not). The author never went into her symptoms so I find it hard to relate to something when this was similar to what I have been writing for a while now. It was like she was putting it out there and then just left it there. Like she would say she was suicidal or had a suicide attempt where she didn’t care if she did or didn’t die but no background to what lead up to that point, no talk of depression or despair or frustration, nothing. I especially didn’t like where she was talking about mass shootings and there was a KEY word missing in the sentence. I had read it three times and it was just bad. Terrible editing on whoever did it. I just decided to write a review and called it a day.

I then went to Harry Potter and got sucked into the wizard world. Around 0030, I finally put the book down and tried to sleep. It took a few tries to get comfortable and then out of nowhere, my damn right instep was killing me. I took some ibuprofen and Tylenol. I couldn’t figure out why it was hurting so bad. I had only got up once to stretch the whole time I read, and there were at least 3 or 4 hours where I was just on my bed. I finally decided to put some diclofenac gel on and then I realized why I was hurting. The golf ball size swelling had moved up my foot and was very inflamed. I don’t know if while lying down the weight of my other foot set it off or what. I had got up around 0130 and realized that in a half hour, it was going to be 3 am instead of 2 due to the time change. I wasn’t looking forward to that because it was going to throw me off. Next thing I know it is 4 am because I decided to read Harry again to wait for the meds to work their magic. I fell asleep somewhere around 0430.

I woke up a few hours later because my mother got up. She is not quiet and her breathing is very labored. As much as I hate the woman, I care for her wellbeing, though I try not to as she doesn’t listen to me anyway. Her breathing is like she is puffing the air out of her lungs. Her COPD is worse (though she will say her knees are causing it). She doesn’t use her inhalers at all. She had paid for a nebulizer and used it maybe a week or two. Now not using it all. Her breathing was slightly better than it was but now without the medication, she is back to her huffing and puffing. I have to listen to her as she climbs the stairs every night just to make sure she doesn’t collapse. I am hoping that when my sister lives with us, I don’t have to worry so much. I wish she would just move her bedroom into the dining room but nope, she doesn’t want to give it up despite her not using it for anything other than her gatsies (little trinkets and things just used for display). I understand her mother gave her those things, or rather were my grandmother’s things before she died but all it is doing is collecting dust. Today she refused to yield me any fucking space to put my mugs yet wanted them in my room. Fuck, seriously? Seriously. She wouldn’t allow me to keep things even though I would like space to. She is just so fucking selfish when it comes to the house, this is mine and that is mine so you can’t use it. Meanwhile she nearly burnt the crap out of my new kettle because she didn’t put enough water in it for making her coffee. She leaves water in it so the bottom of the thing is starting to rust. That is okay though…because she didn’t buy it. I am ready to buy an electric water kettle just so she doesn’t use mine and can do what ever she wants, which she does anyway. I just get so fucking frustrated because she tells me how to live my life, doesn’t use my changed name, doesn’t respect me in any way, shape, or form. Today she had the gall to say G or my birthname or what ever you are. I got mad and said what am I to you, two different people? Then she spewed that she has been calling me my birthname for 40 years so isn’t going to change. Fuck you too. I don’t know why the fuck I bother. I get so hurt and she doesn’t care. She is so transphobic.

I wanted to change my sheets today but my CRPS foot is giving me grief. It has been snowing and raining most of the day so that is probably why. I ordered take out for the first time in a few months. I wanted a burrito but the place didn’t have drivers so canceled my order. I was disappointed. I ordered a burger from another place. Now both feet are killing me just from going up and downstairs. I fucking hate being in pain all the fucking time. It is the biggest trigger of my suicidal thoughts. I am still thinking of my plan. I don’t know if I will go through with it but it is on the backburner. Tomorrow I am seeing my PCP’s social worker to work on some financial planning and things. I hope that she can maybe speed up the process for therapy as I am really needing to talk to someone about things. I know I have this blog but sometimes actually talking to someone helps unload things. I don’t want to call my friends because I don’t want them to worry or be mad at me. Just sucks that even though the majority of my friends accepts that I have depression, some are not so accepting that I have suicidal thoughts and plans, even if it is just to hear me out. I no longer bring it up with them. I guess it is a “don’t ask, don’t tell” situation, which really bugs me. As many times as I have had trouble with therapists, it is the same. No one wants to truly hear how dark my thoughts are. Makes me feel more alone with each passing day. I know there are people out there that say “you aren’t alone” but when you are chronically suicidal, you really are. I just wish I would go through with it so it will end.