There have been many times in the past few days with this pain cycle I am going through that I have wanted to just throw in the towel. but then I can’t be there for my mom and that bothers me. I hate to think that if I wasn’t here on Tuesday, if I had gone to Framingham like I was hoping, I would have lost my mother. I know my sisters would never forgive me. I just feel with this much pain I just can’t fucking cope. How can you cope with this shit. this shit is so fucking tough to deal with. I take my meds and I usually get knocked out. I took them today as if they were nothing. I am still coherent and not drunk but my foot is still rearing its ugly head saying I am still here and you can’t do nothing to touch me. i just took my second round and i am wondering if i am going to sleep tonight. Ice just made my foot numb but then the feeling came back worse. And yet I still have to live and put on a happy face because I can walk “correctly” and look good to people. Fuck that shit. I am done being the nice guy. I will tell people I am struggling but I never mention suicide. I told my friend in the UK my plan and all she can say is don’t do anything silly. What am i supposed to do? I can’t cut my foot off, though I would love to. at least with the possible phantom pain I will have a reason for the pain and maybe welcome it better. I don’t know. what I am reading about suicide doesn’t cover chronic physical pain. I took a psychache assessment today but couldn’t finish it because my head can’t distinguish my physical from psychache. I have no idea if I am making sense or if i am rambling so I will stop here.
Tag: depression
A day at Starbucks
I’m at Starbucks drinking my Isla Flores. I don’t know what I am going to do when they get rid of this coffee. I like it more than West Java and it is from the same island (Indonesia). It is really hot today so I am glad they have the A/C cranking in here. It’s going to reach 95 degrees today. I don’t like heat. It drives me crazy. There have been studies done on suicide that state that intolerable heat causes suicide, or makes it more prone to suicidality. I know because there have been times I have thought more about suicide on hot days than I have on cold.
I have an appointment with my psychiatrist today. I don’t know if I am going to tell her about my plans. I don’t want to risk going into the hospital. Though for the first time in a long time, I didn’t wake up with doom on my mind today. I slept pretty good. That is the first time I slept through the night without waking up at some early time. I still have my menses and cramps, that are driving me crazy, especially on this hot day. I want to go into a pool and get wet today but that is not going to happen. I’ll just take a shower when I get home to cool off.
I am glad I brought my laptop to Sbux today. I like writing outside of my room. I might work on my book today. I haven’t worked on it in so long. I added double space and it is now 48 pages. I guess that is a good number to start with. There are some things that I’m editing as I go along.
Despite lowering the dose of my antipsychotic medication, I have not had any delusions or bad voices. The voices will ramp up at night to keep me talking by asking questions of my day or come in when I am resting. I hate that. I try to ignore them but they get so insistent. Sometimes it is just questioning how my day is going; other times they question every decision I am making. Why am I taking this bus over that bus, why am ordering this food over that food. You sure you want to do that rather than this. Or they tell me that I am doing everything wrong, some times including breathing. Like is there a correct way to breathe? Seriously. Half the time you are not even aware of it so WTF. Or they ask me why I am doing something, like just now they asked me why I put my sock in my sock and I reply that I don’t want to lose the other sock. I found this method has worked to keeping my pairs of socks together. Less mismatching.
It is like a sauna in my room right now. The ceiling fan is just moving hot air around. While I was at my psychiatrist appointment, I wanted to do a psychache scale. I no longer write the graphs in my journal as right now it just wastes paper as I don’t use it. So I look on my phone. I don’t have it in my files. I check my dropbox files and my google drive, NA-DA. I am pissed. I hate not having my files when I want them!! So now I have to place these documents and the SSF on my drives because I don’t have them. It would be nice to have them in an emergency. Like when I was in the hospital and they needed a safety plan for me to be discharged. I didn’t have my crisis response plan (CRP; see this blog for what it looks like) in my journal because it was a new journal. I didn’t have it written out in a word doc so I had to rummage through my PDF’s looking for it on my phone/tablet. Then I had to write it all out, substituting what my therapist and I came up with the generics of it. That was fun because I had to rush. But what truly pissed me off was that they didn’t even want a copy of the damn thing. They just wanted to make sure that I had one. So sometimes the CRP is useful in hospitalizations and sometimes it is not.
Hot and muggy
Hot and muggy
It’s a very warm day in Boston today. I am sweating and not liking this heat very much. I have not done anything except edit my book and talk to my therapist. She wants me to do a SSF, suicide status form as “the situation calls for it.” I could care less at this point. I am just so pissed off. I didn’t want to talk to her today. I should have canceled but I know she would have called me anyways.
Since finding out my date, she has been acting like a total psycho. I guess the date has some significance for her and it’s not like I knew that. I didn’t. I know her birthday is in Aug but it is NOT the day I picked to end my life. So I don’t know what her problem is. People die every day. We have put the date off for now but I don’t think I can. I want to end my life because I am tired of being in pain all the time. I can’t stand living like this anymore. I feel like a useless piece of shit. I told her I wrote to my psychiatrist a letter that I will probably send the day of the deed. I just can’t send it to her now because she probably will hospitalize me against my will again. I don’t want to be in the hospital and it will do no good being in the hospital because they just want to change your meds and if they can’t do that than within three days you are released. What are you going to accomplish in three days? NOTHING.
Why am I against the SSF? I don’t know, maybe because I am the one that introduced it to her and I feel like it is a slap in the face. I don’t think this will work because she never follows through with the whole thing anyways. We never resolve my suicidality. Soon as I don’t feel like doing one, it gets dropped and the whole thing fails. I guess I feel like why should I fill out a piece of paper that is going to tell me how I already feel? It’s not like I don’t hate myself, have psychache, am stressed to the maxed, am hopeless beyond belief, and am going to kill myself in a few months. I have no reason for living, and plenty of reasons for dying. Having my menses still is one of them.
I have had my menses for more than a month now. I am tired of it and my skin is irritated by the feminine products I have to wear and by my underwear. I am not used to wearing elastic fitting underwear that women wear. I rather wear boxer shorts but you can’t hold a feminine product in them. It makes me so uncomfortable and angry. More angry than I know what to do with and I have no one to take it out on. It’s not anybody’s fault really. I have the xx chromosome and not the xy so I guess I can blame my father as he is the one responsible for the Y chromosome! Another reason to hate him!
I know a shower might do me some good, washing off the stink of things and maybe cool me down some from this heat but I just can’t be bothered right now. I will later today. I have to as I really reek. I can no longer use deodorants because I have a rash under my armpit. It is going to be an interesting summer. I also have not shaved in a while because I have an open scratch where the rash is. I can’t help it. It is itchy!! So far the only thing helping is hydrocortisone cream. I hope it goes away soon.
Another thing about the SSF, it is not that I don’t like it. I actually praise it because it is a good tool to use. But the draw back like I said before is that I don’t think it can help me because I know how to “cheat” on it, per se. I know what the answers should be and that does not help me in the long run.
Another thing she asked me today was what was my psychache. I have not filled out a Holden psychache scale in so long. I don’t know what it would be. And again, it doesn’t matter. All it will prove is that I have psychological pain. I just feel very hopeless about this. I can’t help it. I am trying to get her to see that she will be losing me and to get away from me as far as she can and she just won’t do it. I just don’t care.
a crazy day
I know I have not written in a few days. I have been feeling exhausted. Yesterday I planned on writing but somehow the day got away from me and after the Sox game, I just was not in a writing mood.
I woke up this morning in pain, which is unusual as most of my pain is at night. But my foot was cold as it was a bit chilly in my room despite my foot being under the sheets and blanket. Pain woke me up and I took my pain medication. I was going to see my therapist today but my sister had the truck so I nixed it. It was a good thing I did because my mother came home from seeing her sister and collapsed on the floor due to low blood sugar. If I had gone to Framingham and then came home, I hate to think what would have happened. There was no way for her to get up. I couldn’t pull her up so had to call an ambulance. I didn’t realize she was having a hypoglycemic attack until her words were getting slurred. Her sugar was 38 (normal is between 70-100). And this happened just a few minutes before my session with my therapist so I had to cancel on her. I felt bad but I had no choice.
So I was kind of out of my tree from adrenaline and when that wore off the pain meds kicked in making me feel very sleepy. I still am fighting taking a nap but my foot is really hurting so I think I will after I write this. I then get an email saying that my appt with my PCP is in five minutes. I mixed up my dates. I thought it was Thursday and instead it was today. Fuck! Now I won’t get a refill of my pain meds. I still have some because I have been using less of them but I don’t have enough to last me till I see him on June 20th! He has no opening until then. I hope they can process my prescription. If not I am going to really be rationing my last of my pain meds. Which isn’t going to be good as I am in the middle of a pain flare up right now. I know part of it is that the temp keeps fluctuating between 50 to 70 degrees. And my body is sensitive to those dips and highs. Starting Thursday it is going to be in the 90s for a few days. Just lovely.
I had a friend from Australia email me yesterday. He wanted my advice about euthanasia and suicide. He has a cousin that wants to die because like me, he can no longer deal with his chronic illness. He doesn’t want to do the deed himself so has hired a doctor to legally kill him. I don’t know how I feel about this. I know that I wish I had a doc that would take me out of my misery but then my thoughts are because I am “depressed”. But you can be suicidal without feeling depressed so how does that play out? I truly understand what this kid is going through and can empathize with how he feels he has no other choice but to take his life but at the same time I wonder if depression is playing into a part of his decision to die and maybe if that were treated he wouldn’t feel that way. But then I look at my situation and think how can I justify that thinking if I am going to kill myself for that very reason.
I will write more on this later. I just can’t seem to get my thoughts coherent enough to think about this.
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