Tag: depression

Don’t Feel Like Talking

by Midnight Demon, posted in depression, suicide attempt

Don’t feel like Talking

I have been reviewing in my mind the last few suicide “mini” attempts that I took over the past several months. I am wondering why I never called for help or called a friend. It wasn’t like I didn’t have a number for a friend I couldn’t call or a helpline or a chat person. I just was constricted into one way of thinking. I needed to escape and that was going to happen. It was my “only” way out. I think I slipped into Mr. Hyde and ran away from help. I couldn’t possibly think that someone would understand the amount of pain that I was in or understand that ending my life was the only way out of the mess that I was in. And it wasn’t truly a “mess”. I just wanted an out that I could count on.

My last attempt was last week. I wrote a blog about it and then fell asleep. While I slept off my drugs, at least three bloggers tried to get in touch with me through various ways. One of them found my personal email, which I am still wondering how in the world they got. I am glad I don’t have my cell phone listed anywhere or it probably would have been traced back to me. But since that happened, I have been scared to write. Scared because I don’t want the police showing up at my door. I have had that happen before and it wasn’t a pretty picture. It was terrible because even though I was in “protective custody” through EMS (the paramedics had already showed up and taken me to the hospital), the police and fire department didn’t know that so broke a window to get into my house. I was freaked out when I heard about this. My family was wicked worried about me. And that was all because I wrote an email to my psychiatrist. My writing has gotten me into trouble. So now I am scared that it will again. I have dissociative episodes. I barely remember sending the blog that night. I don’t even remember what I said, other than taking pills.

I don’t want to stop blogging. It has been a lifeline for me. But I also realize that I need to be more aware of my thoughts and feelings to stop the hurt before I take something lethal. Luckily, I only took a few pills. I didn’t take a bottle. But the question remains, why didn’t I feel like talking to someone before I took them??

I know of suicide prevention. I know of suicide assessments. So why didn’t I use them? I am not beating myself up here. I am just trying to understand what went on inside my head so that I can do something the next time this happens. All that I come up with is that I didn’t want to go to the hospital again. If I paged my psych and told her I wanted to take my life, I don’t think she would let me off the phone unless I had a plan with her to go to the ER. So that option is out. Luckily, through this recent episode, I found a fellow survivor that I can email. I hope that I can email her and talk freely about what I am feeling and what I want to do. That is if I feel like talking. That is the key…talking. To know one’s story. I feel like such a hypocrite because I wrote a book, published it, and then tried to take my life afterwards. Some survivor I am. I am totally unstable and I don’t think I will ever be stable. I told my therapist today, that if I had the chance, I would try again. I am just tired of living. SO DAMNED TIRED. I have nothing keeping me here. My protective factors are minimal. I don’t even know if they exist anymore. I mean, I love my family a little bit but I don’t feel connected to them in anyway. I just feel like I am this stranger that comes out of my room and says hi every now and then. I hardly go out anymore. My life is meaningless.

My therapist is so excited about my book that she doesn’t even want to read my blog anymore. Though my blog readership has hit an all time high lately. I should be proud of that. But I don’t feel it. I don’t feel anything. I am not interested in anything. I got my journal of Suicide and Life threatening behavior today and it didn’t even excite me. One of my favorite suicidologists wrote a paper in it. I should have been all over it but I wasn’t. I had no interest in what the article was about. I am too depressed to care about anything. And I don’t even talk to my therapist anymore. All she wants to talk about it my fricken book. I am done talking about my book. It just depresses me. And I don’t know why. I should be on cloud nine right now but I am not. Maybe I should go back on an anti-depressant. But I am so sensitive to them, they just make me sick. I hate this anhedonia I have been feeling. I hate that worse than the psychache that I have been feeling. I mean, how many times can your heart break and nobody know? Because depression is an invisible illness. No one sees it. No one else feels it. It’s all inside you. And no one feels like talking about it.

That’s what I do best

by Midnight Demon, posted in depression

As I am nearing my 700th blog mark, I am trying to think of something poignant to write. I still have a few days to really think about this.

I woke up really hungry this morning so made myself some pancakes. I don’t know what I did wrong, but they didn’t come out right. I think next time, I am going to omit the baking soda and see how they come out.

I cannot wait for tomorrow so I can order my books. I am still trying to finagle how to save money so I can ship them out. Right now I think I am just going to ship out the overseas as that will be the most expensive. I then ship out the domestic next month. I am really excited and hope that I don’t screw up my signature. I haven’t really been practicing. LOL. I just am really excited to ship out my book to Switzerland. I just hope I filled out the customs form correctly.

I finally made it out. I went to Walgreens and surprisingly, I paid less than one dollar. This was due to their rewards program. This is the second time that I have paid less than a dollar on more than three products. It’s pretty cool.

I am feeling depressed though I have no reason to be. I just don’t feel like doing anything. It’s going to Walgreens was a hassle. Was it a hassle in the sense of going there, but just internally of getting dressed, picking out shoes, and a hat. I just grabbed the first hat that was available to me and went out.

I told my therapist today that I felt like committing suicide. She couldn’t believe it. She was excited about my book and she can’t wait until I have it signed for her. I am hoping to borrow my sister’s car tomorrow but I don’t know how likely that is. It’s school vacation week and I don’t know if my sister is off of work but not. I don’t know why I feel so low. I know it’s mostly because I don’t have anything to occupy my thoughts. I don’t have any writing projects that I’m actively pursuing, nor do my games keep me occupied. She suggested I just go out and just sit at Starbucks to just write. But it’s hard to be in a coffee place, with no coffee. My funds for coffee have been depleted. So now I just have to make coffee at home and that is boring.

I am listening to Pearl Jam. I really like them when I am in a dark mood. It helps to ease my anxiety and make my mood less dark. I don’t know why I keep track of my word count. But I do. It kind of kills me because at one point I was able to write 1,000 word blogs and now I can barely write 500. Even my blog is becoming a hassle. Maybe I should be in the hospital to get a break from my life. I am suicidal enough. But I just feel like it will be a let down, that I won’t really get the care I need. I am not that bad, I don’t think. I know I took one too many pills last week but those feelings haven’t dissipated. I feel like such a failure and I don’t know why. My therapist was so excited to get my book. She couldn’t put it down. But I doubt she has read the full chapter. I think the hardest thing for me right now is that I have nothing to do and I don’t know what to do so I think about killing myself. Because that’s what I do best.

a writing ramble

by Midnight Demon, posted in blogging, depression, suicide, transgender

A fellow blogger wrote a blog today about “why write depression every day”. It got me thinking about why I blog every day. Most of my post have to do with depression or pain or some combo of the two. It’s very rare that I don’t write about my feelings of the day, unless I am on a specific topic.

I write every day because it makes me feel better. Blogging is the one tool that I use to express myself. Sometimes it is received favorably, other times, not so much. But I don’t care that much for the likes or comments anymore. I just write anyway. It takes me out of the dark hole that I am in and brings me closer to the light. Writing has helped me deal with the darkness more than therapy has in the last ten years. I like that I can write and express what I feel, no matter how dark, and I find that I am not the only one. Others have feelings like I do about being depressed and suicidal.

Last night, I was talking with some people on the SPSM chat on twitter. It was very interesting. I would love to have Jobes on twitter but I don’t think he will ever be for it. The talk was how to get more therapists in to social media. And that is a tough thing to do. Hell, I have a therapist that is against email so how am I going to get her to twitter? Probably not. There was no specific topic about suicide just about how to spread social media out to mental health professionals. It was an interesting discussion.

The one topic that I am hoping to get around to one of these days, is transgender and suicide. I think it is a hot topic that needs to be addressed by professionals and is just getting ignored. All my therapy always focused on my abuse history but if they saw me, they would have known that I am gay and that I was hurting because of it. Asking questions, in the right way, to a transgender person can be life saving. I wish someone had asked me rather than me coming to the realization 30 years later. I could have had treatment a lot sooner and I could have been happier. Now I am stuck in a body I hate and that I still want to kill. It just isn’t right. Even though my psychiatrist has known me since I was 17, she still thinks of me as a “her”. I almost died when she called me a “girl” at our last appointment. I don’t know if she is baiting me to correct her or she just is ignorant. I have been thinking of writing her an email about it but I don’t think that will solve the problem. I think I am always going to be a “female” in her eyes.

Pink Pill Part 2

by Midnight Demon, posted in depression

This is what I wrote prior to the blog, “really don’t care”

14-4-14 Pink Pill Part 2

Not doing good. Just realized, I’m becoming delusional over a blogger. I’m convinced this blogger is out to get me somehow though the actual odds of this happening are quite nill. I haven’t been taking the pink pill, mostly because I keep forgetting to or I just thought I can get away with taking it every other day. The pill is expensive for me. But I really need it to keep the delusions away. Luckily, the voices haven’t started up, but I think that is why I have been in a gloomy mood the past few days.

I also have not been taking my mood stabilizer. I haven’t had the inclination to refill my weekly pill box so just been taking what I feel like taking. I think I might end up in the hospital soon if I don’t start taking all my pills. Psychosis for me always means ending up in the hospital.

I don’t know how skipping the pills got started. My editor sent me the first read through late Friday night and I couldn’t sleep so worked on the edits. I wasn’t feeling good and didn’t take everything that night, except my hormone pill, which I have to take to avoid my menses. But I don’t know when the delusions started. I never really do, they just creep up on me. I guess I am hearing internal voices that are saying that this blogger is out to get me when I know there I is no likelihood of this actually happening. I have been under a tremendous amount of stress with getting my book published in a week. I thought I was handling everything okay. Until the conversation with this blogger became more frequent.

I’m also feeling suicidal. I feel this should end. I can’t sleep. I am in awful spasms from the pink pill. It likes to turn my muscles into a rubber ball. With my suicidality up, I am thinking of taking more meds than I should. I already took my required dose today but I want to take more so I can sleep. But I know I will be betraying my pdoc and I can’t risk that, not without calling her first. But it’s late and I hate calling her at this hour. I’m getting to be a wreck. I can’t handle stress like a “normal” person. I just want some sleep so I took some Neurontin. It works in a pinch. Also will help with the burning pain that I am feeling.

And the only reason I am a wreck is because I missed a few days of the pink pill. Weird that out of all my meds, this pill is the one I am most dependent on. Because when I am on it, no delusions, no paranoia, and no voices.

It amazes me that all I need is 10 mg of the pink pill and I am sane. It’s the only pill that works for me. I have been on others but none work like this drug. It is my savior. Savior from hospitalizations. Least I hope so…