thoughts about death

I am in a deep dark spot and thought I would write about it. I am tired of living this way all the time. Every night around this time (between midnight and 2 am) I get what I call the midnight demons. It is the time of night where my thoughts are dark and almost sinister. All I think about is death and suicide. I don’t feel joy, even if I had a “good” day. I don’t feel much of anything except extreme sadness. People think that this is depression but it is much more than that. I know one day I will die by my own hand. I want it to be now. I have voices that watch me every second of my waking hours. I started to have chest spasms and when I told the voices, they said I could be having a heart attack. I told them I wouldn’t be so lucky. I often hope that I have appendicitis. I won’t get the operation because I want it to kill me. I can go naturally. I know it will be a painful death. No one survives an appendix rupture. I will refuse all treatment.

I wrote earlier today that I felt blank. I still do. I just have thoughts of death because I don’t feel anything. Anything is better than living like this. I can’t even sleep away my darkness that I feel inside. The only thing that I do feel is pain in my stupid ankle. It is a constant pain that has driven me to thoughts of death. Doctors have told me it is tendonitis but if that was all that it was, I should have been healed by now with rest and ice and elevation, but I am not. I don’t think doctors have a fricken clue what I go through on a daily basis. I talk with my therapist at least twice a week, for fifty minutes each day. I don’t think she gets me. She says she does but I don’t think she does. Same goes for my psychiatrist. She says that if I didn’t have pain, I would be less suicidal. On some level she gets it but I don’t think she really know just how suicidal I have become. If she only knew what was swirling in my head. I have voices that are constantly talking to me during my waking hours, I think I have said this earlier. They talk to me about anything and everything. They seemingly are my best friends, you can say, if that is possible. We have conversations that last for hours. Some times it is deep, other times not so deep. Some of the voices try to help me, others could care less and just want to make sure I am in pain. I have tried to control them with medication but still they continue despite this. I think that is why I am always in a flux of mental pain. Like I am tonight. I am numb but not numb enough. I have seen worse nights than I have tonight. But I am hoping when I go to sleep it is for the last time. That I won’t wake up in the morning. I am hoping to die in my sleep. I know that is unlikely. I do not have any health problems that would cause such a thing. Unless of course, I do have the silent heart attack and it kills me instantly.

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Ever had one of those days where you just feel blank? Like nothing is going on inside your head, no thoughts, no feelings of any sort, just feeling blank? Or have those days where nothing tastes right? Yea, I am having one of those days. I tried to make it a good day but I just feel so blah, like everything is an effort.

I got my hair cut today and I thought I would feel better but I didn’t. I waited around for the bus to the Square to get my coffee and decided to get Mexican food instead of a pastrami sandwhich and it just didn’t taste right. I had half of it then threw it away. I then got my coffee, a pumpkin spice latte, iced and a pumpkin scone. The scone was edible. It was okay but the latte was terrible. I don’t know why but it just didn’t float my boat today. I drank half of it and tossed it. I just was not in the mood to finish it.

My therapist was able to fit me in her schedule today. I guess I should talk to her before the weekend. I hope that I can explain this blank feeling to her. She probably will just say ah ha. And that will be that. I hate it when she says that. I’m going to try and talk about the grief of not working. I think I am having a bout of it today. A friend of mine I used to work with is on twitter and still works in the lab. I miss working with her. She always made me happy when I was grumbling at work. It made the day go by faster because we would have a good laugh to ease to the tension of the work day. The job was stressful. We were responsible for people’s lives as we were the ones to order lab tests the doctors had ordered. If we ordered the wrong test, which happened occasionally, it would suck because it could delay treatment of the patient. I miss it, but I kind of don’t miss the stress of it, especially when it came to pediatric tests. I always felt bad when a little one was sick. Sometimes the nurses drew too much blood or not enough, mostly not enough, and expect us to perform miracles on a tiny drop of blood. I remember we had a newborn who needed a glucose and the nurse sent us the sample like three times and each time was the same amount of blood. She didn’t understand that we needed at least a half a tube of blood to get the test done. The worst part was that the parents were lawyers and were threatening to sue or cause something because she had to repeatedly stick the baby. I felt bad but we need more than a drop of blood to do our job.

We then had funny diagnoses from the ER. My favorite were the ones that came in because they were drunk and fell. Well no shit. Whoever drinks to the point of alcohol poisoning is going to tip over and get hurt. It really sucked when it was a young person. You just knew they could become alcoholics if they weren’t already there. But it was interesting working in the lab. Got to see some really cool specimens and others that were just beyond gross. We once had a sample that was supposed to be urine but because the patient was doubly incontinent, we got both stool and urine. And it stunk really bad. When I called to ask the nurse about it, she just said do the best we can. Yea, hold our breath as we analyzed it and hope we don’t pass out!

I wish I could remember the fun times in the lab. We used to have a lot of fun until a certain supervisor got jealous and made us stop. She really was a bitch though she would always play the injured party when caught. I always tried to keep my “good” side with her because she was such a backstabber, but toward the end of my days, it was getting harder and harder to do. She realized how much of an impact I had when I was there and soon laid off her phoniness with me. Not like that made things better, but it was a step up. I remember there was a time we played a joke on a friend. She had injured her foot in a car accident and took her sneaker off. Well, a coworker and I decided to hide it on her. When she came looking for it hours later, we made up some story that we used the pneumatic tube station and tubed it to blood gas. (it was still in the front office where we were but didn’t let her know that). She hobbled to blood gas looking for her sneaker while me and the other coworker who was in there just laughed our asses off. We actually forgot where we put it, until we went searching for it ourselves. The expression on her face was priceless. Those were the good days. We got the work done and still had a few laughs. Then the lab changed and so did the laughter. It was just work, work, work. Sure we would still have our breaks and such, but damn, it was hard keeping up with the patient’s samples coming in and not enough people to log them in. There were nights we had to leave the outpatient samples for night shift. We could only do so much in eight hours. And computer downtimes, scheduled or unscheduled were always a bitch. You always got that one not so understanding clinician who wanted his stuff above all the others just so his shift could come to a close. We would go out of the way to find it and then find out that there was another doctor covering him. So much for it being a priority!! I would get so pissed off.

There were days I would just get to work and be in a bad mood. Saturdays were the worst. If day shift left us outpatient bags, I was even in a worst mood. Plus they always seemed to wait for me to come in and hand off the problems that should have been dealt with hours ago. I had a rule of not talking to be until after six o’clock, because by then, things were caught up and day shift was really gone and all the problems have been dealt with. But never failed that a half hour or even fifteen minutes before my shift ended more problems would come in and I would have to stay on till exactly midnight or after to make sure they were dealt with and handled properly. I always made sure things were clearly documented so the supervisor would know what was going on. And in my line of work, you had to be clear otherwise mistakes would make the mistake worse.

I liked my job. It was routine. I was the one that was there the longest and knew the system better than anyone (other than the computer staff). I also helped where I was needed even if it wasn’t my “job” for the day. But things got more difficult the more my mobility slowed me down. When we had the big analyzer machine installed, I found I couldn’t run it and aliquot specimens in the same shift. I would be dead the next day and often it lead to me calling out on my next scheduled shift, which I rarely ever had to do. Once I stopped having a car, getting to work on Sunday was getting to be impossible. I was late and it took me over two hours to get to work, by public transportation. I just said the hell with it and worked during the week and Saturdays. Sometimes, I would work only half shifts and even those were painful. I sometimes had to leave my shift in a wheelchair or half way through, go down to the emergency room because the pain got to be so bad I could hardly stand. My leg would swell and hurt really bad. I never found out why it swelled and hurt so much. I just found that I needed a day in between working until finally I had to have restrictions in my day in order to work. Then lost my job because it couldn’t accommodate me. That was really painful, emotionally, because I worked my ass off even through the worst of my pain. I had no idea that it was so restrictive. But it was the only thing that I could think of so I wouldn’t have to take any more time off work and get off FMLA (family medical leave act). So I went from working two jobs to trying to work forty to none in four months. And it sucked! I really didn’t know what I was going to do. I tried to get another position in the hospital but little did I know the hospital had a hiring freeze on. I needed a job that I could work sedentary but couldn’t find one. Then when I lost access to my work email and such, I stopped looking and filed for disability. I already had two psych hospitalizations and was working on a third when I was out of work. I had to file for long term disability, which was a mountain of paperwork. I think it took more paper than social security! I got both within a month of each other. I was glad because finally I could pay off some bills that had piled up while I wasn’t collecting anything. But it still is tough living on a monthly check. I still have not learned the art of budget. I seem to pay the most important bills, my cell phone, Starbucks, health insurance, and cable bill. What I have left has to last me until the next month, which sometimes it doesn’t. I could have a dollar to my name until the next check. And I always make sure that I have transportation money or I am not going anywhere for the month. And that will suck!! I just got to figure out how to spread out at least two hundred dollars of spending money and make it last a month. And somewhere in there has to be food money. I can’t live on coffee alone.

being in pain is exhausting

A fellow blogger recently wrote about things being all or nothing. That phrase has been stuck in my head since I read it because it is so true. We all have this idea that we should do things and complete the tasks we all set out to do in our minds. No one is telling us to do these things (unless you have commanding voices). But when you have physical illness, we forget our limitations to follow through what our mind wants and thinks we should do. Yesterday I went and got my breakfast at McDonalds and then had my coffee at Starbucks. It was 9 in the morning so I had plenty of time to kill before my therapy appointment at 12:30. I came home around 11 and just chilled until my appointment time. I was also waiting for a friend to email for our blog exchange. After therapy and after my friend exchanged our blogs, I had to pick up my niece. I walked the 8-9 blocks to the school and back. I let her watch TV and have a couple of snacks before I ordered pizza for dinner. Then had her do her homework and watched her until her father came home a few hours later. By 7 pm I was exhausted. I tried to watch the game but it proved to be too much for me. So I made my last trek up the stairs to my room for the night and checked a my email for the night when WHAM my foot started spazzing and exploded in pain. It got really bad because when I held my foot to sort of message it out, I could feel the muscles twitch. I had a horrible night of pain. And it drove me crazy. At one point, I had an out of body experience where I didn’t think my foot was mine. The pain got worse instead of better, even though I had taken pain medication. I seriously got suicidal and wanted to OD on everything I had but I couldn’t get up off my bed to do it. I eventually went to sleep.

This morning when I woke up I still was in pain. I have been battling the pain all day. I knew I had only one thing I could do today. I could either go to the grocery store to get some stuff or I could go and get my one cup of coffee. I decided to go to the grocery store and now I am totally done for the day. My toes look like Vienna sausages and my ankle/foot is throbbing like no tomorrow. I took my pain meds so I am going to pass out now. My goal of writing four pages is not going to be met. I hope when I wake up I can do something more but for now I need sleep. Being in pain is exhausting.

my day

I started the day off with a blog about my writing buddy but I wanted to write more about my day.

It has been a crazy day for me. My mood has been all over place. I have been up since early this morning and then had to watch my niece. It took a lot of energy to do this and my ankle is somewhat paying the price for it now.

I really wanted to take a nap but I don’t have any time as the Sox game is about to start.

Last night as I was taking some medication for my foot, I spilled some of my Gatorade on my sheets. It sent me into a tizzy of self-harm urges. I don’t know why that is. I know I was mad at myself for being clumsy. Maybe anger toward myself is the trigger for my self-harm.

I didn’t write anything for my book today. I am too tired, both physically and mentally. The hypergraphia that had yesterday seems to have dissipated.

I emailed the blog I am referenced in to a few friends and my psychiatrist. My psychiatrist is awesome and she wrote back asking me if I wanted to participate in her med student class again. It is basically an interview model where one doctor will ask me questions while the students observe. There are usually 8-10 students in the group. Usually that will bother me but they stay quiet and don’t ask me any type of questions. Now I just have to come up with some ailment to present to the class. I have so many to choose from. I think I will go with CRPS as the last time it wasn’t too clear a diagnosis. I still have trouble with understanding it but it is important for students to realize there are some neurological ailments that are not always textbook. Last year when I had the interview I mostly talked about my transgender issues and surprisingly, I was ok though I was a little shaken up afterwards. I couldn’t believe I told a roomful of strangers my inner most secret. It was tough to process afterwards but it is an important issue to bring up to med students.

I enjoy talking with the doctor. It usually is about forty-five minutes of talking and sometimes there are questions, sometimes there are not. I am usually guided along with my “ailment” of what brings me to the clinic. It usually is difficult in the beginning but then eases on out.

I am glad the mixed state I was feeling earlier today is gone. Now I just want to go to bed but I have to see if Buccholz is going to get his ass kicked or not and keep his 9-0 record, hopefully make it 10-0.