Tag: depression

Random 392

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

I had therapy today. She read half of the TG blog that I sent her the other day. She says that she misses me. We haven’t had an in-session session since my last birthday. I was going to see her next week but I have babysitting duties until the 26th. Our times are too close together and she lives so far away, I would hate being late picking up my niece. I probably will see her soon enough.

We talked about the great idea I had about sending my mother a letter about how I want to be called. I just don’t know if I can do it. It would have to be a time when I know I am talking with my therapist in case the fall out goes horribly wrong. I wish my mother was more accepting of me or supportive. But she just isn’t. I accept that even though it is harder than hell to. She has her ways, I have mine and unfortunately, they don’t meet up. I told her I even thought of having a session with my therapist to break the news to her but I really don’t want to be in the car with her for 45 mins after session. It would just kill me.

I did some editing today. Nothing major, just changed a word here or there, and formatted the paragraphs. I figure the more I do now, the less I will do when publishing time comes. If I am still alive, that is. I tell you, it was hard not going through with it today after my therapy session. I just had the urge. I didn’t act on it, otherwise I don’t think I would be writing this blog today. I hate when it hits you like a wave and you have to ride it out. We did talk about heavy stuff today and I “blew” my therapist’s socks off (her words) when I told her about my idea with my mother. She said she was very proud of me and I guess I just couldn’t handle all the positive emotions. It gets to be overwhelming for me sometimes. I just don’t think I am that good of a person, sometimes. Today was one of those days, I guess. I told her I don’t have to “deal” with her for the next few days so I could tell her these things and then have a break.

I also talked about the Shame book that I am reading. It is giving me the insights about things. Reading this book gave me the idea to write my mother the letter on how to address me. I still have no idea what I am going to write but it’s a start. The book is also helping me to realize somethings. I wish I could remember what they were but I can’t off the top of my head. I do know that I am not liking her writing about all her “success” stories. It would be nice to see that there are a couple of failures but who wants to own up to that? I have been in therapy too long to know that not all therapies work for everyone. Insightful therapy doesn’t work for everyone. I had a therapist that was that way, and it really bother me. Granted I was just 16, but still. I was intelligent enough to know what was going to work with me and what wasn’t. The therapist was a gold digger and ended up taking advantage of me. She was just worried how she was going to get paid more than how to help me. It didn’t help that I “fell” in love with her and would do anything for her, which she knew. It was a rocky relationship and something that I swore I would never let happen again. Course I sort of “fell” in love with my current therapist the day I met her. But that is a story for another day.

I dealt with my father today and soon as I left, he called me to say he has a $1000 insurance policy. With whom, he has no idea. He just said yes. IDIOT. I guess when the bill comes in the mail, we’ll know. And then my mother wanted me to make her a sandwich for dinner. Really strange. I did it, just because I wanted a sandwich, too. It’s too hot to cook anything.

My ankle exploded on me an hour ago and still hasn’t calmed down despite taking my pain meds. I am hurting really bad. All I did was shift position where I was sitting on my bed and it flared up. That is all it takes and whammo, I am in pain. It’s too bad that it happened way before my bed time. I am going to be sleepy come game time. Last night, I couldn’t bear to listen to the game. It was terrible base running and I just couldn’t listen. I know it would have been worse to watch. I stopped listening when the score was 3-1 Orioles. Final score was 5-2. I don’t get why we suck so bad. Course, there has been some debate on the strike zone being “larger” so more batters are striking out but most of the strike out are looking not swinging! It all depends on the umpire whether or not he is going to call a ball a strike or not. I wish there was inconsistency among them but there isn’t anymore. And it is sad.

ramblings 76

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

I didn’t sleep very well last night. I went to bed at 0430, slept for four hours and then was up nearly every hour after that. I was really agitated last night and couldn’t sleep. If you read my last blog that I wrote, that will clue you in why. I don’t care to talk about it again.

I had a plan to nap and then write but that didn’t happen. So I skipped to the next thing: blog. My father called me this morning asking when was I coming over and I told him tomorrow around noon, but it’s going to be more like 11 because I have therapy at 1230. I really don’t want to go over there tomorrow but I have to. I just hope I can wake up early enough and leave the house at 1030 to catch the bus. I definitely will need coffee!

My therapist received the letter I wrote about my abuse. She wanted to talk about it today but I was too foggy brained to really get into it. She wants me to write a follow up letter about no blaming myself. I was trying to hold on to the idea but it slipped away from me and I can’t seem to get it back. She said it didn’t have to be a long letter, but a short blog or bullet points. Something. I was like whatever. Fact is, you can’t unblame yourself when a parental figures tells you it is your fault. I remember the words as if it was yesterday. I thought there was going to be understanding but then there wasn’t. I then had to deny everything because of this. I had to lie essentially, to avoid talking about it to my family. The pedophile, that is what he is, turned my own family against me because he did it out of “love”. I hate my family for this. And then they wonder why I don’t ask support from them. I try to tell myself that it isn’t my fault but I am going against the grain. It doesn’t feel right. This is upsetting me so I am going to stop here.

I never worked on my book like I wanted to. I had a story I wanted to write but it faded away from me when I took the nap. I probably will write something tonight or maybe I won’t. Who knows. Who cares. Today when I went downstairs to make my coffee, my mother stopped me and said “miss, how many books have you written”? I wanted to vomit when she called me miss. I still do. I told her I just have one book published. She told me that my cousin said that I had “2-3” done. HA! I wish. Don’t know where the hell he goes off telling my mother this. I haven’t talked to him in weeks. I am very close to telling my mother that I am transgender. I can’t stand being called miss, it’s an attack on me and I hate it. Maybe I will write her a letter and leave it on the kitchen table so I don’t have to talk about it. If my father can call me sir, then my mother certainly can too. Granted, I don’t think he understands what he is saying but that isn’t the point. I’m never going to get them to call me their son. That is only in a dream world.

My therapist didn’t read the blog that I sent her last night, but she did read the abuse letter so I have to give her credit for that. I just wish I was up to dealing with it today. I am still licking my wounds from last night. It was such a horrific night. I don’t really know what set me off. I told my therapist that the date was back on the table. I am not taking it off this time. She asked me today if I had reasons to live. I told her I don’t. She then listed a few. I don’t care. I am tired of living MY life in pain all the time.

Did it Again

by Midnight Demon, posted in blogging, chronic physical pain, depression, suicide, transgender

Did it Again

Just got off the phone with a good friend of mine. We were talking and I came very close to telling him that I was trans but something stopped me. Then I go on Facebook and lo and behold I find out that Obama has appointed the first transgender woman to some position. I got thinking, where the hell are the trans men? Am I the only one coming out? Should I stay in the closet, so to speak? I am getting so fucking bullshit about this that the suicidal impulses are at an all time high right now. I still think killing myself is the way to go. I will die as a woman, which is what everyone thinks I am anyway so who is going to know?

I just feel like I am wasting my time thinking about ending my life. I know that I probably am not going to go through with it, but I just need it to be there. But here I go again, stuck in the pain and darkness at an hour that isn’t convenient to talk to anyone about how I am feeling so I am writing this stupid blog. Not that I would call anyone. I hate talking to people on the phone, except for my goofy therapist. I haven’t taken my meds yet for the night. I took some trilafon because my thoughts were getting out of hand. The cousin that I saw earlier today called while I was talking to my friend. Figures. I knew he was going to call me tonight. He wants me to call him but it’s too late and he just wants to talk bullshit things. I am tired of bullshit. I can never talk to him when I am like this. He just doesn’t understand or want to deal with the darkness I deal with. No one does.

I know things will be better in the morning, they usually are. But this agitation is unreal right now. I hate feeling this way. I know pain is going to hit sometime soon so I have taken my pain meds in anticipation. My foot is already swollen so its just a matter of fucking time. I was telling my friend about this and of course, all he said was wow. He got it though. He has a medical background. He couldn’t believe I was disabled but he understands. I don’t know why I am so aggravated. I hate being who I am right now. I realized tonight that if I didn’t have breasts, I would be called a man but people don’t look at your face anymore, they just look at your chest to determine gender. It’s sickening. I hate being this way. And if I have to live like this for much longer, I know I will end up in the grave. I was reading today somewhere that suicide isn’t a destiny. Apparently they don’t know me. They also said that people just want their pain to end. Yes, that would be nice but I still will have to deal with the depression, the physical pain, the mental pain, the disability, the you name its. Who wants to live that way? I don’t. I have had enough. So the plan that I put off is not back on the table. Maybe it will be off the table by morning but I doubt it. I want to be something I am not and it’s killing me slowly, every day.

Anxious Tuesday

by Midnight Demon, posted in blogging, chronic physical pain, depression

I have had a hard time trying to write today. I only wrote a half page at Starbucks and then my brain conked out. I got antsy which didn’t help matters. I don’t know why my anxiety has been up lately. I think I have too much on my mind. Plus, not having any funds to get things is another stressor. I should be getting some funds soon from the Otterbox that I sold but I don’t know when that will happen. They had some problem with my account so I had to fix it and it won’t be transferred until the 20th. I hate the waiting game.

I had therapy. We talked about my anxieties surrounding just about everything. She wanted to know how my appt with my psychiatrist went and I told her. She asked if I brought up TMS and I said I didn’t. I just plain forgot. I don’t know if I want to go through TMS anyways. I heard their protocol is pretty strict but I have bipolar disorder not major depression so I might not even be a candidate for it. I know I am mostly depressed more than I am manic but still, one hypomania episode gives you the bipolar diagnosis. I don’t have many in my life. Three that I know of, one that was drug induced and the other two were far and in between but it caused significant downs that I really don’t want to go through again.

We also talked about my former therapist and how nervous I am about sending her my book. I am afraid of rejection so we talked about that. It’s an unsubstantiated fear. I know, mentally, that she won’t reject the book, but emotionally is another story. I don’t know if she will contact me once she gets my book. I hope that she does, but she is under no obligation to do so. After my mocha, I mailed out the book, swallowing my anxiety. I even wanted to go back to the post office and have them cancel it after I walked away but I didn’t. God, this is so stupid. I wish I never came across her address and then had the “bright” idea to send her my book. My therapist keeps telling me it will be okay and that she will enjoy the book and know that I am still alive. It’s been almost 20 years since I last had contact with her. I just worry that the book will come back as return to sender. I will be crushed if that happens.

We also talked about this book that I am reading about shame and perfectionism. She thought it was about trauma work and I told her it was anything but, much to her disappointment. The book has got me thinking in terms of DBT stuff and putting things together and such. Who knew that I would remember DBT stuff when I least expected it. The author of the book talks kind of rag time and the exercise she gave wasn’t too clear in terms of understanding in plain language, or in language that is relevant to what she is asking.

My mood has been okay all day, despite being anxious. I think it’s because I woke up at 0530 in pain. That always puts my mood in a damper because I don’t know how the rest of the day is going to shape up. Right now the throbbing has returned, which could turn into pain. I took a pain pill when I came home and might take another in a little bit. Pain always stresses me out because I can’t do anything I want to do. I was able to go to Starbucks but tomorrow I think I am just going to make my Brazil coffee at home and not go out. I don’t know what is making me so nervous. It could be pain or it could just be that I am worrying over nothing. I am also working on my second book, which my therapist was thrilled about. I have 43 pages done so far. I really want to get it to at least 200. But I got to be in a writing mode and lately, that hasn’t happened, which is nerve racking. I just can’t get settled or think I just can’t write unless it is at a certain time. The truth is, I can write at anytime I want. I have no one telling me this, just me, though I think the stupid voices are influencing me. I am constantly being watched the past few days. I think I need to take a trilafon and just chill out. I do feel a delusion coming on, well, more disordered thinking. I saw my cousin tonight and I swear he was talking to me though his lips weren’t moving. His voice got into my head and I couldn’t shake it until I was a block or so away from the house. I was returning milk for my mother. Apparently, my sister bought the wrong one and I had to be the one to return it. I really don’t know why my thoughts get so disorganized at times. I guess it’s just part of the illness that I have. Usually medication helps me but lately it hasn’t. I might have to go up on my meds eventually. I have been on the same dose for so long. Plus, I am now taking a generic rather than the brand name. I was afraid something like this might happen.

I started writing a letter to my therapist about the book that I am reading. It originally was supposed to be just a word doc about the book. But every time I went to the blank page, my mind would blank out. I forgot instantly what I was thinking. It happens every now and then and I think that is another reason I have become so anxious. I fear losing my writing ability above all else. I hadn’t had a cathartic writing in a week and that is what I am basing my book on. But one thing I have learned, is you can’t force writing or it will be shit. So I went to pen and paper and started writing her this letter as it always frees my thinking when I write to my therapist. When I told my therapist this, she got all excited. She is such a nut. She says that if I write to her more, she might actually check her mail more often. She hasn’t received my letter about the abuse yet. She had to have received it by now as I mailed it last week. I am hoping that is going to be a topic for tomorrow.