Hyde here

Hyde here

I am feeling really suicidal. I am in pain and I just can’t take it anymore. I almost sat on my glasses and that set things off. Now Hyde is out and I can’t get him back in. He has been quiet for a long time but he wants to talk so I am going to let him. I am safe. This is just his words…

My heart is broken and I don’t know how to fix it. I have tried to with therapy and medication but it seems that no matter what I do, I can’t fix myself. So why can’t I just kill myself? I have no meaning here. I have no purpose. Sure I take care of my bastard father but he doesn’t care if I live or die. I don’t think many people will care if I die.

Tonight my feet were cold so I put on some thermal socks. They were on for a couple of hours and then my feet got really hot. I now have an indentation on my bad foot were the sock dug into me. My foot is still swollen from yesterday and it hurts really bad. I don’t know why I have to live like this. I thought I was a good person but I guess I am not.

I don’t want to be a writer like my psych team wants me to be. I can’t write for shit. Sure I can blog, but that isn’t the same as writing a book. I added owls to my story and it sucks. I don’t know what I was thinking. I am such a bad writer.

I am very tired of trying to stay alive. I should kill myself. It makes no sense to go on. My heart always hurts worse than my foot. Least my foot can get relief with medication. But nothing helps my heartache. I am trying to stay awake to write this. I haven’t been out in so long. I just want to die and push up daisies. Or not even that. Just spread my ashes behind the City Yards near the water. That is my favorite place in the world. I wish I could go there often but I don’t have a car anymore and it’s too far to walk. I didn’t want to live past 40 years. I had every intention to die but my stupid fucking loser of a therapist wanted me to live. She is such an idiot and Jack agrees with me. He hates her really bad. I don’t know why.

I got to go. Meds are knocking me out. Just know that I really want to kill the host and I hope I will succeed one day. Soon as I figure it out, I will do it.

Talking about Anger

Talking about Anger

I had therapy today and all we did was talk about my father and the stress of dealing with him. She read my blog I wrote about him the other day. She thought it was good that I was able to write about the anger of dealing with him because if I didn’t feel a sense of responsibility, I would just leave him. I could care less about what he going on. I don’t feel a connection to him. That connection has been severed a long time ago and never got reestablished.

We talked about how my ankle got messed up while walking with the wheelchair and how using my cane helps take the pressure off. She was annoyed that he needed a wheelchair instead of walking. It annoys me too but he wants the attention. She said that I should be in the chair instead of him. The guy only cares about himself.

We also talked briefly about my mother’s health issues and how it’s stressing my sisters and I out. My mother just has her own way of doing things in regard to her health. I know she thinks she is a burden to us but that isn’t the truth. She is just sick of being sick and in pain all the time. But she doesn’t do anything to help herself either. It’s just annoying and it’s only going to get worse as she gets older.

My therapist just wants me basically to stay in bed to rest my ankle. She encouraged me to write about my anger but I fear that it will be taken the wrong way so you may see more password protected posts. She also wants me to read and do stuff that doesn’t involve me walking around. I haven’t had lunch yet. I haven’t decided what I want. I have a few choices and that is the problem.

My therapist was vocal throughout the session, though she did listen when I was telling the story of how Thursday night went. I told her I was so aggravated with him that I didn’t get something to eat like I wanted to. She wasn’t happy about this. I don’t even remember if I bitched to my mother about him that night.

What really got me really pissed off and still does is the “concern” my aunt has for my father. She would rather piss on his grave than think more of him. Now that he is sick, she is “concerned”. It’s bullshit. She just wants to be in the loop to she can talk about him behind his back. I hate this aunt because she is just two faced. I don’t see her often and rarely see her at her house. The only time I will be at her house is if my mother is there and she needs something or I need something from her. It just pisses me off.

My therapist did talk about the safety planning thing that I wrote about. And she said that we didn’t have one in a long time. I told her I would bring the sheet the next time I saw her, which probably won’t be until the end of the month. She asked me when I was seeing my psychiatrist and I said I don’t have a time. This is the problem I have when I cancel a time with her. Trying to get another appointment takes several emails. I emailed her last night but haven’t heard back from her, yet. I said in the email that by the time the 15th rolled around I would need refills so I would like to see her by then. After the 15th is when things go back to normal for me. I am not spending all my time with my bastard father.

I need to see my father earlier than usual tomorrow before his appointment as my sister is taking us to the appointment. I figure I do his meds before we leave so that I didn’t have to do it after. I can just go home after the appointment.

I will have another rest day on Thursday. I also have therapy because I can’t have it tomorrow. I told my therapist about my panic attack that I had yesterday. I told her I took my pain pill soon as I got home and she asked if I took some Ativan as well. I told her I did because my chest was hurting and I was still having palpitations. I just get nervous when I am on the bus and the entrance or exit is crowded. More so if the entrance is blocked because I usually exit the bus that way. But it was the last straw for me having to deal with. My foot swelled up twice the size of my other foot last night and it was hurting like a SOB. CRPS in action. This is why my doctors don’t think I have CRPS because they don’t see me at night when these things happen. It took a while for me to get comfy and to get to sleep last night because of pain. I still woke up around 0400. I stayed up for a little bit went back to sleep and then woke up two hours later. I had breakfast at 0800 and then went back to sleep. I woke up around 1130 and made coffee. Now I am just going to make lunch and then read some Harry Potter so I can dissociate.

Ramblings 78

I’m feeling very low. I can’t seem to stay awake so I made myself a cup of tea. I couldn’t be bothered with the process of making coffee. My comforter is in the dryer so I should have it shortly to take a nap before my niece’s birthday party. I am just so wiped out.

My hip is being a bitch. I guess I pulled it a little more than I thought I did while changing my sheets. I tried doing a few exercises for the hip but it had no effect. Even the pretzel maneuver did nothing but I did stretch my buttock. I am cold and I just want a damn snooze. It’s 50 degrees out and I am cold. Makes no sense.

I want to write but I don’t know what to fucking write and this frustrates me. I was thinking of a story last night but nothing came of it. I am starting to think this writing thing is just something my therapist and psychiatrist want me to pursue so I have something to do with my time rather than have a career with. I haven’t sold any books lately. I sold one book the beginning of the month and that has been it. It’s hard to go on writing when you know you got to self-promote. I wish I could talk to writers about their work and what they are going through. The groups I joined on Facebook are just not for that kind of thing. And other writers are not so keen to let their writing secrets available. I have been following a writer’s tip on Twitter and they just say you got to write. I write every day on my blog, and I am happy with it. If that is the only thing I do a day, then I am happy. But it makes me depressed because I feel like I should be doing more.

I don’t know what the more would be. Maybe reading a book about writing will help. Only thing is, I can’t start something new until I finish one of the three books I have started. I don’t feel like reading today. All my energy went out the window when I changed my sheets. I really don’t feel like going to this party tonight but my niece is important to me so I will go anyways. I won’t stay too long. Just until cake is served and then I will disappear.

Last night I was looking through a book I just bought on Cognitive Therapy and suicidal patients. The safety planning was the same as what I printed out. They had a card version which I think will be better than a sheet. It really sucks being disabled. I don’t know what to do with myself. I need a routine and I don’t have one or can’t stick with one.

Tomorrow I got to make sure I eat something hearty as I will be with my father and the last thing I need is low blood sugar. I also need to make coffee because I won’t be going to Starbucks tomorrow. I have to remember a few things to bring with me. Tomorrow is going to be close to 60 degrees. I need to remember to dress appropriately or I am going to sweat my ass off. I will wear jeans and a light sweatshirt. I plan on bringing my tablet so I can read if I am inclined to. I know he is going to be in there for at least ½ hour. Wednesday is going to be a longer day as we got to meet with the doctor. My youngest sister will be with me. I am glad I don’t have to go alone with him to these appointments. I would really lose my fucking mind. He is getting more ornery and cranky lately and I think it’s because the ass doesn’t eat. Maybe I will make him a sandwich and see if he will eat it. I don’t believe I just said that. This will be the routine for the next two weeks. I am so not looking forward to it.

I haven’t had any ankle pain today, not above my normal anyways. I know that the temp changes are going to wreck havoc for me. I think that is why my back has been aching so much lately. We went from the 20s to the 50s. it’s supposed to be reasonably warm all week. I hope it stays this way but it is February. Things can change. I am glad the Farmer’s almanac was wrong about this year. Last year was brutal so I don’t think this year will be.

I think tomorrow I am going to search for PTs. I have to find one that is close to me. I would really like to go to the one in Boston next to the hospital I go to but they haven’t called me back. I will try again tomorrow morning. Hope I get a human and not a voice recording. Going back to PT just feels like a defeat. I know that I need it because my back is all messed up, but I feel like I should be able to be okay or do the exercises by a book or something. And I am worried that any strength/conditioning is going to flare up my ankle. If this happens, I doubt I am going to complete the course prescribed. And I don’t want them messing around with my ankle. I went through a course of therapy with my ankle and it didn’t fare well. I was in more pain than I was before. And I better have a therapist that is willing to work with me than say do this or else. I just hope that me waiting another 2 weeks doesn’t cause more damage than what I already have. The weird part is, I feel like I can do without therapy and then my hip will flare up.

CDC and Chronic Pain

“I invite chronic pain patients who rely on medications & are still alive, to offer their expertise to the public conversation.”
Terri A. Lewis, PhD

This statement just rubbed me the wrong way. In fact, it infuriated me because there are so many people taking their lives because they DO NOT get medications due to the opioid policies some doctors have. The CDC is proposing that primary care doctors PCP’s no longer prescribe narcotics for their patients. I haven’t read the report but it was stopped only because a lawsuit was threatened if it was published. The guidelines were written by people that had NOTHING to do with chronic pain. Therefore, it didn’t make sense for them to have these guidelines. I would write to them but I fear that if I do, I will be prosecuted for my actions down the line. Call me paranoid. I only take 4-6 pills a day and if that were cut, so would my life.

The statement also implies that taking these medications is a death sentence waiting to happen. This isn’t true. There are plenty of people who SAFELY take these medications daily and are still alive. Yes, there are some that do NOT because they go to different doctors and the combination of other opioids makes them sick. My ex’s neighbor died from an overdose because of this. Had one doctor been prescribing, her friend might have lived a little longer. She was terminally ill with something other than cancer. Obviously, she is the one that is “not alive” to come forward about these supposed guidelines.

If Primary care docs can no longer prescribe these medications, where are chronic pain patients supposed to go? “Pain clinics” only want to experiment and give injections, usually because it’s more money than writing a script. I have seen two pain doctors and they both didn’t want to take over the pain management I was under. They just offered invasive procedures and when I refused, I no longer was a part of their care. I’m sorry but there is no research to support that the injections would benefit me. I wish I kept the report that contradicted the injections. There was an article a few years ago that said that it was more dangerous to have them than not. I am not going to risk have something called arachnoiditis for the sake of a pain clinic writing a script for my pain meds, when the pain meds already work for me.

I need to have my primary care doctor continuing to prescribe me these medications. It’s safer and easier than seeing a specialist. The meds help me to function better, though I rarely take them when I am outside the house. They make me too drowsy to get on the bus and train. So I suffer through my pain to get to where I need to go. Taking my four tablets a day is not killing me. It’s keeping me alive enough to see another day. Because without them, I would seriously end my life. And I don’t think the CDC wants that.