Today I got my bi-monthly journal of the American Association of Suicidology, Suicide and Life Threatening Behavior. My cousin came over and my mother said to him that I like reading that kind of material. I do but on another level, I feel embarrassed. I know I am taking it personally because it is personal. I attempted suicide many times over the years and each time I fail it is not only a failure, but it also is an embarrassment to my ego. I have the scars to show of the self injurious behavior I have had over the years. Again, an embarrassment of my illness. I don’t know why I feel this way. Or maybe shame is another reason I feel embarrassed. I don’t know. But it hurts. It hurts knowing that I failed and I am still here. I don’t know why it does but it hurts like hell. I have not told anyone about the shame that I feel other than my blog and maybe my therapist. There is so much I tell her that I sometimes forget if I tell her about the shame of living. I know people who have attempted don’t like to talk openly to the person in front of them about their story of attempt. I don’t think I can speak openly in front of a crowd of people and tell them I have attempted and failed and now I feel like a complete and utter failure. That I want to try again and succeed just to try to cheat death. But I have people that rely on me to be here and though I sometimes resent them for it and even hate them for it, I still continue living. I don’t enjoy living. It’s a constant struggle for me for one thing to another. It’s more of a hassle living than anything. Between the chronic pain that I feel physically to the chronic pain I feel emotionally, why bother? But I do because I don’t think I can ever again act on my feelings. I lost what is called lethality. And until I get it back, I am still going to be living this so called hell called life.
Tag: cutting
urges
***WARNING MIGHT BE TRIGGERING TO SOME PEOPLE***
Past few days have been rough. I have been humiliated by my nerve condition, in so much pain I couldn’t sit long enough to watch the Superbowl, and today I get hit with nerve pain in my ass that almost made me want to pass out again. All this has left me wanting to do something self-destructive.
I was talking with my therapist about this week’s events and a sudden urge to cut emerged without warning and staring at me from across my bed room was a new razor. I could almost feel the pain and feel the blood as it dripped down my arm. I need to cut so bad it feels like nothing will take its place until I do. I am starting to get obsessed with it. But I don’t have my supplies ready, though they could be in an instant if I tried. I don’t want to start something I can’t finish and cutting would do that for me. It would start out as something small and then I could go deeper and deeper until the bleeding went a little out of control. I would be happy for a little while and maybe for longer than that. I am trying to distract myself from it by writing but it’s only feeding the feelings of self-infliction that I want to do. I am guessing this is how a junkie feels needing their next fix. I want it so bad but the ramifications and consequences will not be good for me. I haven’t cut in almost ten years. So in some respects, you can say I have been “sober” all that length of time. And if I cut I will lose my “sobriety”. I don’t know what will happen. I might cut and be turned off like it happened the last time I cut or it might turn on the flood gates and I will become a “junkie” always looking for the next fix.
Why do I want to cut? Because I cannot tolerate the intensity of my psychache, the psychological pain, the despair, frustration, perturbation, worthlessness, and guilt that I am feeling. I have tried listening to music but I just cannot turn out the sound of my pain. It sucks hurting this much and no one knowing. I wish I could say why I feel like this but I don’t know why. I just do. I know part of the reason I want to cut is because of the fact I cannot kill myself. Cutting is a way for me to express my emotions without hurting anyone but me. And I am fine with that even if others are not. People do not want this to happen to me but I can’t stop the thoughts. They are weighing on me like a barge on my chest.
coping skills not working
I have been depressed for the past few days and my coping skills are not working. Because of this I thought about cutting my wrist but instead I mixed my meds up a bit and slept. I guess you can say that I was a drunk because all I did in the morning was stumble around.
I didn’t plan on doing this I just couldn’t cope with the pain of living anymore. I needed an escape and I needed it badly. I know I could have called my psychiatrist or therapist but most likely they would have said go to the ER. The ER is useless. You wait for hours to be seen because more urgent cases take precedent and because you are not actively doing anything to harm yourself you just are forced to sit and wait. Then when you get put into a room you are searched, made to give a urine sample and might have blood drawn if they think you need to be admitted. Or you might have blood drawn anyways if you overdosed like I did last night. I couldn’t help it. I wanted to cut really bad and I knew that if I did and I needed stitched I would be screwed. Least with OD’g you don’t leave scars. I didn’t OD with the plan to kill myself. I just wanted an escape for a few hours as things have been shitty the past few days. I told my sister that I wanted to be a man. She asked if me if I was sure. I started to break down. Obviously I wasn’t that obvious to my family. I was just a tomboy that never grew out of it. Except tomboys don’t usually wear men’s clothes all the time. This has been the most difficult conversation that I have had in a long time, since I came out as being gay. I refuse to use the word lesbian because I am a male not a female.
I want to be able to tell my family this year because I will be going to a clinic soon as I get the guts to call to make an appointment. I don’t want to start the hormones and then questioning me why I have facial hair. I have a little facial hair now but it’s kind of stupid looking because there is a space in the middle of it.
I just want to be myself. I don’t want to hurt anyone. The only person getting hurt is me because I can’t be who I am. That is why I want to cut, want to OD, want to kill myself. Though I still feel like it would be better to bury me as their “daughter” than as their “son”. My parents are of the old generation. They don’t understand things of today. Much less gender identity disorder or being transgender. Right now I guess you can say that I am just a crossdresser except my damn boobs get in the way of that. How I loathe my boobs. It is one part that I hate the most. I want to look at my chest and see nothing but my pectoral muscles, not breast material.
The biggest question so far that I have had since coming out as transgender is when am I going to have surgery. Are you kidding me? Let me get used to being freely who I am first!! Let me try the hormones first and see how they work. I hate to think of surgery before hormone replacement and most surgeons won’t do it unless you truly have been living as the opposite sex for some time. It is not an easy thing to go through. And mentally it messes with you big time.
I know this road I have been on is the right now. My sister was worried that it is going to mess with my depression. What she doesn’t realize is that part of my depression is not being who I truly am.
a bad day
Been in a funk the past two days. I have ben really down because of the condition I have called CES, or Cauda Equina Syndrome. I have had to bladder accidents that have cut my mood to shreds. Then in my dreariness, I told one of my sisters that I wanted to be Mike. She was supportive but didn’t understand that the reason why I have been so miserable is because of being in the wrong body. I cried myself to sleep last night only to wake up at two o’clock in the morning. I didn’t fall back asleep until six thirty. I hate the disrupted sleep.
Now that she knows, I feel relieved but I have the urge to cut really bad. I hate myself and want relief. The only way I have been able to do that in the past is by cutting. But I am afraid that once I start, I won’t be able to stop. I took some meds to help calm me down but they have not kicked in yet. I have been up since nine thirty and really just don’t want to do anything. I just want to sleep but I am not. I played some online poker and lost a big amount of chips. Not a big deal as it’s not real money. I can always get it back or buy more chips.
I have been playing on the computer most of the morning trying to get rid of the awfulness that I feel. But nothing is working. I’m looking at razors and bandages. I am imagining how it will feel and if I will need stitches. That will suck as I will most likely be hospitalized. I should pack a bag just in case so my family knows what I need. I know I have a lot of writing to do but right now I just can’t do it. I don’t have the energy. I really want to go off on a person in the CESSG group for being a whinebag. She is complaining about everything that is wrong with her life. I hate people like that. Most of it has NOTHING to do with CES and that bothers me.
I still want to end my life. Nothing has changed my plans for my date with death. I have to have this just so that I can live. Surprisingly it is a national day of something. I forget what it was but it was pretty funny. I really have to decide what I want to do today to harm myself. I feel like I deserve it. The pain that I feel is intense and I can’t bear it too much longer, though I am trying. Though any time I talk about suicide or cutting pain is usually involved. It’s not a physical type of pain. Just a kind of heartache that won’t go away.
I am happy that I am transitioning but it’s hard as hell. One of my aunts suggested I say a Hail Mary ten times a day. I have been out of the Catholic church for years and the only way for me to remember the word is to look them up. I am not going to do that because I do not believe in prayer. I am not a religious person in the least. I wish people would just listen to me and not have too much to say other than they understand. Is that too much to ask. Most people when they open up to issues like I am describing just need an ear to vent out their frustration and maybe a shoulder to cry on. They don’t need their problem fixed or delegated to someone else. They just need support to get through that moment of time they are in distress.
midnightdemons7 
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