Tag: depression

Reflections on the Year

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

Reflections on the year

This time last year I was deeply in physical pain and psychological pain and in the throws of a yet another nasty depression. I was asked to do a writing project for a friend and I didn’t think I would make it. I was sure by this time, on this date, I would be dead. And if I happened to be alive on Dec 17th, I would surely die by my own hand. I promised myself that if things were still the same, that this heaviness that I felt in my chest were not gone, that the pain in my ankle/leg/foot were not decreased, I was going to end things, permanently.

This year, things are still not a hundred percent better but things are less. My depressions are bearable when they hit. I have Wil Wheaton to thank for giving me the tidbit that my brain is not working right and that things will pass and be better tomorrow. My suicidality, though still a deep part of my soul, has decreased to the point where it is just thoughts I ruminate over and then give up. I figured out with the help of some books that this is always going to be a struggle for me, that my depression and pain are always going to be there. But like a former therapist said to me, you don’t always have to act on what you are feeling. These days, I am a little bit more hopeful about the future, though I don’t always see it. I still get hopeless every once in a while but it doesn’t last forever like it once did. I find that writing my blog has been a life saver for me. Mr. Hyde hasn’t come around in almost two months now and for that I am grateful. I have people in my life that have helped me see that I can succeed, even though I am disabled. It took a long time for me to accept my disability. Took longer to grieve it. But eventually, when I realized that part of the depression and suicidality was the grief I was not mourning, I took it apart piece by piece and wrote about it. There was nothing I could do about the pain except wait for the pain meds to work and for that I grateful that I have it. Also emailing my psychiatrist about the depth I was in helped as well. I don’t know if I am still going to have the same doc in 2014 and that scares me. I know that getting pain medication is going to be harder to get with new doctors and even harder as government rules will dictate the rules for prescribing rather than relying on clinical judgments. I don’t know what I will do then. But that is not my worry for today.

I don’t know what brought about the change. Maybe it was having a daily contact with someone miles away from me, urging me to continue my writing and work on a book. Maybe it was a little of owning the depression and taking charge of it, that it doesn’t have to rule my life like it would love to. I just know that I feel differently than I did a year ago. And though the impulses to kill myself are still a threat, I have a therapist that is behind me like a fungus that won’t go away. I really doubt without her countless sessions I would still be here. She really has been the one person that I can always rely on to be there when my mood is dark and gray. We might have our arguments about treatment but I know that she believes in me that things aren’t always going to be so bleak. I guess I have more people in my life now that believe that I can do things where last year I didn’t think I was going to survive my own lethality. I have been tested a few times this year to end my life. I have made several plans before today to end my life this year. My therapist can account for that. Though I have only had one psychotic break this year that required hospitalization. My hospitalizations have been fewer in recent years than they were in the past. I think that is more because I don’t think they help as they once did and that is a shame. You don’t get the care I once relied on.

Lastly, I have to thank country music for without listening to the same songs over and over for hours of despair, I doubt I would be able to make it though the horrible nights when I couldn’t sleep, either because of pain or despair or both. It is the one genre that I can relate to every song and let my brain do the escaping when I was writhing in agony. From songs like “water tower” by Jason Aldean to “Crash my party” by Luke Bryan, to Taylor’s endless songs and lastly to the other artists that I have followed but are not so popular, Casey James and Cassadee Pope. Without music, the heart just doesn’t heal from pain.

having a bad day

by Midnight Demon, posted in blogging, cauda equina syndrome, chronic physical pain, depression, suicide

Having a bad day

I woke up in pain, again. This is the third or fourth morning where my foot has woken me up from a sound sleep. I took some pills to get some relief but unfortunately, I was not going back to sleep. Every noise in the house kept me up. Then my mother’s phone rang. Then the damn smoke detectors went off for some reason I still haven’t figured out yet. Because this noise is far louder than the phone, it scared me and forced me out of bed. When I knew the house wasn’t truly on fire or my mother had left the gas burner on again, I had something to eat and then played on my laptop. I have been playing the same annoying game. I don’t know why I can’t quit it. No one will know but I want to complete the damn missions and it gives me something to do.

I am in a depressed state, a deeply depressed state. I really want to end my life. I find no use for living anymore. I hate being in pain all the time. And then we have Tuesday coming up. A day that I planned a year ago to end my life by if things weren’t better. Things are some what better than they were a year ago. I am not as suicidal or depressed (except for my current state) as I was a year ago. I find that I don’t write depressing messages on Facebook anymore. I will, however, tweet them. I have a book that is done and is ready to be published. I just need an editor to look over anything that I have missed. I am actually looking forward to things, though right now, I can’t say what I am looking forward to. Things just look dreary and dark. I am not looking forward to Christmas or my birthday, both are next week. But Tuesday I am planning on having a day with Crown Royal and drink my sorrows away. I have a ¼ of a bottle left. I doubt I will get very drunk.

I am tired of feeling this way. Maybe I should be dead. My sister said to me the other day that there is no “mental illness on my mother’s side of the family”. It took all that I had in me not to laugh in her face. HELLO, I wanted to scream at her. What about me?? What about your cousins that suffer from anxiety, bipolar disorder and schizophrenia? Aren’t they on your mother’s side??? Talk about complete blindness and denial.

I really want to commit suicide. I have dreamed about it for so long. Why can’t I go ahead with it? Why am I such a coward? I do nothing day in and day out. I have nothing but this blog to keep me going. I feel like I have to write every day or I will lose my mind. I stopped writing in my journal. I don’t seem to have very much to say after I blog. It’s all the same isn’t it except what I journal doesn’t get posted on the internet.

I know that I have another book to write. I don’t know exactly what that will be yet as it is supposed to be co-authored. But I don’t care. One book will be enough for me. I can’t write anything else. Once you write about your memoirs, you can’t write another. Unless at least thirty years go by or something and I know I am not going to be around for the next thirty years. I will be lucky if I make it past this week. I am so tired of fighting myself every day. I am more tired of dealing with pain every day. Today was bad. Still is as the day isn’t over yet. I know part of it is because of the snow storm that hit. I haven’t gone outside nor do I want to. I just realized I have to deal with my father yet again for another stinking doctor’s appointment, all because the asshole lies all the time and won’t give a straight answer. So if his doctor tells him something he is not going to a) remember it or B) deny it and just say that he is “fine”. I don’t know how I got to be the one to go to these appointments. All the more reason I should kill myself. Just so I don’t have to deal with an ornery bastard.

I still have to hear back from my therapist about my sessions or lack thereof this week. I really don’t want sessions this week. I rather deal with this on my own. I do anyways.

Lucky Friday 13th: Taylor’s Birthday

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

Lucky Friday 13th: Taylor’s Birthday

Today is Taylor Swift’s birthday. In her honor I have been playing all her music that I own. She was born 24 years ago and 13 is her favorite number. How fitting that her favorite number is also the day number she was born on. I was thirteen when she was born. My favorite number is also the day of my birth, twenty-three. So we have some things in common, though I will never be able to tell her these things.

My favorite songs of hers are Love Story, Fearless, Hey Stephen, Story of Us, Red, Begin Again, Invisible, and Tied Together with a Smile. I think that is a song from each of her albums. If you are a Taylor fan, you can correct me on this.

My day has been ok. I woke up in pain but was able to get my latte and a crappy doughnut from Starbucks. Their doughnuts are usually good but today I got one that wasn’t so good. I have a funny story, as I brought in my own mug today. One of the girls didn’t know what size it was, even though it was clearly written on the bottom of the Starbucks mug. She was knew and said to the other girl that she has never seen the mug before. I have had this mug for the last few years. It looks like a Starbucks cup and they don’t make those kind anymore. I really thought it was funny.

I lost two blog followers. Oh well. I will get a few more and then some. I am past 500 so I am happy it happened before the end of the year.

I gave my therapist an ultimatum yesterday. She just pissed me off because she scheduled me into an appointment without my permission. I told her that I don’t want to see her next week, at all and that I won’t text her while she is on vacation. If she does call me anyway, I won’t answer the phone. I feel that I need a break from her. I know she will be away for the two weeks for Christmas/New Year’s but I rarely ask for time off. I also feel like she is the only one that can ask for time off and I can’t. I don’t think that is fair. I am just asking for a week off. Nothing more. Then I can see her on whatever Thursday she is back in the office.

I sent yesterday’s blog post to my doctors. Surprisingly, I have not received a response. I would have sent it to my PCP but he doesn’t like email and the last time I sent him a message through his office, it backfired horribly on me. The message was misconstrued and the meaning devalued. So I will never send another blog to my PCP, unless I print it out and hand it to him. But he doesn’t seem to care for my writing so why bother.

Today I was at Starbucks and it felt strange being there with just my journal. Usually I have a pad of paper, a book, and my editing. Now that the editing is done, I am no longer carrying that around. I used another backpack today so I could hold the mug so it didn’t have a book or pad of paper. Strange feeling. And now that I am done with editing, I don’t know what to do with my time. I could work on my second book but I want to take some time off from writing for a bit. NO, I am not taking time off my blog. Please comment if you would want me to though!

you learn to live with it

by Midnight Demon, posted in blogging, cauda equina syndrome, chronic physical pain, depression, suicide

You learn to live with it

It didn’t happen overnight. It didn’t happen in a week. It took some time but you learned to bare it. Except on nights like this when the pain keeps you awake and nothing eases your mind to bring on sleep. You think of death as your only way out. You think of what more your doctor can do to ease the pain but he doesn’t know because it’s fucking midnight and he’s not on call anyways. Besides, they don’t want to hear you cry in pain. They just want you to live with it. And that is the toughest thing to do.

I have been battling pain since seven tonight. And it’s been a trigger for me. CES started when my left leg went out on me and then I was left with foot drop. I wasn’t told to live with it. I was told my ass was going to have surgery for a condition I had no knowledge of. I still don’t have complete knowledge of cauda equina syndrome because it varies in so many people. Sometimes the right side is affected. Sometimes it is the left. In my case it was the left and I still have nerve damage twelve years later.

Yet I haven’t been told to live with the pain. No, not yet. But you have to or you lose your mind or your life. It is a conscious effort every day to not stare at the bottle of pills or some other weapon of destruction and not think, why not? You have to take the walls down piece by piece of the strength you have and build it back up again with new ones to block the pain out the best you can. But sometimes, like tonight, the walls fails you and you are in mega pain. My foot/ankle/leg are hurting all at once and all you want to do is scream. But you can’t because it’s after midnight and everyone else is asleep. Thoughts of wanting to amputate run high on these nights. It’s a good thing there isn’t a chainsaw in the bedroom.

Meds kicking in is a joke. They may lessen the pain some but they do nothing to ease it 100%. At my best, the pain is always on the level of 3 on a scale of 1-10. At my worst, like now, it can be an 8-12. So I will have to take a third pain pill to quiet it down or I won’t be waking up at 0645 like I need to. Got to take dear old Dad for his tests.

I hate my leg right now. And I should be able to live with the pain. And I will. But not tonight. Tonight I am writing and writing until I pass out because people should know that despite having surgery for CES, you are still left in pain. It is called nerve pain and it sucks. Nothing eases it except narcotic medications or some anti-convulsant drug and that is some of the time. Oh how I wish I could call my doctor now. Have him see the veins popping out on my foot, how swollen my ankle bone is and how I can’t get it down with ice or elevation.

But I got to live with this? I can’t kill myself? That really sucks when you know you are in so much pain, physically, and you can’t end your life because of it. I have too many people I’m responsible for. People say they will miss me. I often wonder if that is true.

My psychiatrist told me tonight to take my meds and get some rest. How am I supposed to do that when I got pain this bad? I keep hearing her voice telling me to go to bed. But I can’t sleep. Pain is just too fucking bad.

I didn’t do anything to cause this. I didn’t stand too long, I didn’t walk too far. I didn’t go up and down the stairs too much today. Well, maybe I did, now that I think about it. I went downstairs a few times to empty my recycle bins and get rid of some boxes in my room.

I wish I could just disappear, permanently, where there is no more pain and no more agony. No more depression. But I don’t want to be happy all the time. That would be too weird for me. Just being content is all that I want. Content means being neither sad nor happy but not being miserable either.

I just want the pain to stop permanently. Then I maybe I could live my life a little better. Third dose of meds and an Ativan have kicked in. And this is how I live with it, without putting a noose around my neck. I put my hat on backwards and I write, until the meds kick in.

It helps to write. It really does.