Tag: disability

Pain changes

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

Pain changes

I used to have pain that began anywhere between 1800-2300. Now it’s starting to happen around 1400 in the afternoon. WTF. It’s the same type of pain I experience at night, only earlier in the day now. And it lasts well into the evening. Because it’s day time, I can’t take a full dose of meds unless I know I am doing absolutely nothing the rest of the day because I am basically drugged up. It usually knocks me out and I sleep, which messes with my night time sleeping. Today I took one pain pill when I came home from Starbucks and then paged my psychiatrist because I felt uneasy.

I was supposed to kill myself today, so this pain isn’t helping that feeling of wanting to die. I told my therapist that I would use my crisis response plan if I was in trouble. I am not to the point of needing to go to the ER but I do need to talk to my psych because she can help calm me down. My therapist will just get excited and be no use to me then have to get off the phone with me, leaving me feeling in worse shape before she called. Least with my psychiatrist we can come up with some kind of plan until I meet with her tomorrow.

I took an Ativan because my anxiety was getting up. I feel mellow now. I also want to sleep but my psych hasn’t called back and I don’t want to miss her call. I guess it’s good that I am not anxious because I was going to ask her what the quickest way to amputate your limb would be, chainsaw or a sawzall.

I just had dinner so I shouldn’t have to go downstairs anymore unless I have to use the bathroom. Or want a snack. But I will only snack if my pain levels return to normal (which they won’t) or my doc calls and calms me down so I don’t do anything to harm myself in the mean time. I am so sick of this shit. The pain has taken a life of it’s own. I can understand hurting at night when I have done nothing all day. But to bother me in the day time hours, too? NO, I won’t stand for it. Something needs to be done. Though what that is, I have no fucking clue. I am sure my PCP that I see tomorrow is going to be just as clueless. Least my pain meds work on the pain so I don’t need to change meds.

Thing is, I didn’t do anything different today than I normally do. I didn’t stand for hours on the train or waiting for the bus. I didn’t walk more than I normally do. I was having an okay day until the damn pain hit. Then everything went out the fucking window and I wanted to fucking die. I still feel that way but it’s more manageable since I have taken the Ativan and pain meds to control some of the pain. I would love to take a nap but it’s too late for it. I will just take my meds early tonight and try and see if I can sleep at a decent hour. I got to leave the house early tomorrow. I just hope my pain doesn’t get worse as time goes on. Or the pain meds wear off in the middle of the night and I am in excruciating pain. That always is my worry.

Painsomnia continues

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

Painsomnia continues

The three bones in my foot are throbbing up a storm right now. I just took some more pain meds to try and ease it. I might have to take a strong pain pill but we’ll see. Because of pain and the possibility I am getting a cold, I can’t sleep. My throat hurts and my nose is stuffy, two things I hate more than anything but it’s more tolerable than coughing my brains out. I took some extra vitamin D to boost my immunity. I hope it works.

As I was waiting for my night meds to knock me out, I decided to read for a little bit. I read two chapters. Then it got really hot in my room so I went downstairs to see if my mother turned down the heat before going to bed. I had turned it up because it got really cold in my room. My heating system knows only two settings, freezing cold or blazing hot. My mother had turned it down before going to bed but I turned it down a little more. I think it’s going to be like this throughout the winter, which sucks. I am just glad I have a ceiling fan. I would have turned on the fan but with me getting possibly sick, I didn’t want to.

I had emailed my psychiatrist a blog and in the email, I asked if it was okay for me to page her on Friday. I haven’t heard back but I am going to page her tomorrow anyways. I was going to send her a blog but I really want to talk to her. I feel like I should at least voice my concerns I have about taking a bottle of pills. It’s getting more and more likely that I will act on it and I don’t know what to do about it. I found out that likelihood of it killing me is not really going to happen. I need a LOT more pills than what I have and it would take me months to accumulate that many pills. But it might do some damage to me or at least put me in a coma for a while.

I’m going to try and go to sleep again. My throat is on fire so I am not sure how successful I will be. It stinks being physically sick when you are already in pain. I am just so damn worn down, I am surprised it took this long for me to catch something. What ever it is, I hope it goes quickly.

Throbbing pain and suicidal thinking

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

Throbbing pains and suicidal thinking

I knew I was going to be in severe pain tonight. What I wasn’t expecting was the stupid pain to change course on me. I usually have three metatarsals (bones in the foot) that hurt me every night. Now there are six of them. If I didn’t just have foot X-rays, I would probably get them again. Of course, there is nothing wrong with my bones. They just throb and throb every single night. Then I have my ankle deciding to join in the fun and it keeps me awake when I want to sleep.

I knew I should have tried to take a nap earlier this evening. Around 1730 or so, I was really tired from the migraine I had and everything was bothering me, lights and sounds mostly. Then my face went numb so I took my migraine meds. I should have taken a nap but it was too early to sleep and I knew I would be up if I did. Now I am shooting myself in the foot, so to speak.

I have my phone on vibrate because I can’t stand noises, even though the migraine has gone away now. I need to change the ringtone for my text messages. But there really isn’t any good ringtones on my phone that I like. I would love to get the Star Trek Next Gen communicator ringtone but I haven’t been able to find an app that has it. I think by now they have come out with the real comm badge that is a Bluetooth communicator. I would get one but it’s $80. Way out of my budget. If I strike it rich on my birthday, I will consider getting it. That is if I don’t go through with my plan.

I know I have been talking a lot about my plan and yet I am still here. Honestly don’t know why I am still here, but I am. Guilt is one reason. My fucking idiotic therapist is another. And of course my psychiatrist, who I value her trust in me more than anything. I can’t whole heartedly go ahead with my plan knowing that a) it might not work the way I want it to (meaning I will survive) and b) if I do die, the pain I will cause those left behind. It’s a burden on me knowing that I will cause suffering to those I love more than anything.

I was reading a blog today from a friend I know in Ireland. She has DID and was in emotional turmoil. She needed to hear from her therapist to calm her down. I remember the days when I needed the same thing from my therapist or psychiatrist. But since the psychosis that has happened this year and the medication I take for it, I no longer feel that connection. I feel disconnected from my feelings, all together and it worries me because other than feeling really suicidal or depressed, I really don’t feel much else. Maybe anger occasionally and grief, but no sense of connection to the people I care about. There used to this connection but I no longer feel it. I have been cut off from it. I guess it started when I realized my father wasn’t going to make it earlier this year. I remember being in the hospital room with the PA while she was telling us the oncologist was not going to pursue anymore treatment options for my father and that it was only a matter of time that he was going to die. My father was wrapped up in the blankets in his hospital bed, trying to sleep. I have no idea if he was hearing the conversation or not. That is when we started looking for nursing homes for him. It was a hard decision and it was difficult to bear. I don’t think the month of April is ever going to be the same for us again.

While my father was dying from his disease, my depression was out of control. Then I became psychotic after his death, even while taking the meds for it. The voices told me to stop taking it so I did. I got worse. Then I went on another medication because I had to take something for it. The voices were commanding me to take bottles of my pills and telling me everyone was going to kill me, including my lovely psychiatrist. Now that I am back in control again, I feel different. I feel shielded, like I have emotion but I don’t. They are useless to me. My doc wants me to take a lower dose of this medication but I have tried to and it just doesn’t help me to be on a low dose. I need to take two doses a day to feel stable. It might be causing me to feel like a robot at times but it’s keeping the delusions, paranoia, and voices under control. It’s been five months now that I have been feeling disconnected but I really don’t want to be plugged in. It’s better this way. The only time I feel out of sorts is when my pain is out of control and the anxiety takes over. That is when I feel most dysregulated and suicidal. It is at these times that I come up with plans to kill myself because I want to end it all. Sadly, the way I feel right now, I could just toss a coin and see if I should die or live. Heads I live, tails I die. I don’t care anymore. If my favorite holiday wasn’t coming in the next few days, I might toss that coin. Until then, I will wait till next week and then toss that coin.

A Trip to the Museum

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

Trip to the Museum

I planned on going to the Museum of Fine Arts today if the weather permitted. Snow was in the forecast and I wasn’t sure what it was going to be like. I woke up early enough and when I saw outside, it had stopped snowing. There wasn’t that much on the ground so I decided to get going. I took a shower and made coffee. My mother can always be counted upon to make snide remarks. She was washing clothes so I took off my shirt. I didn’t think it was a big deal. She has seen me naked before. But she had to say that it was shameful. I tried not to let it bother me but it did. She can be such a bitch.

As I wasn’t heading to the Square, I took my time in getting ready. I went to Walgreens to fill my prescription and then went to the bus stop. Luckily I didn’t have to wait too long as it was cold out. I did have to wait a bit for the train. I don’t know why people talk to me when I have my headphones on. There was a guy that got on the elevator with me to go to the platform. At the platform he starts a conversation with me, telling me how his girlfriend kicked him out and he is now homeless. I could give two shits about his problems. He just went on and on and I was praying for the train to hurry up. Luckily when it did come, he got on another car and I did too. I only had two stops to go to catch another train.

I got off at the museum stop and walked to the entrance. I am glad it was at the front of the building. I haven’t been to the museum in years and the last I went, it was through some door around the corner. It wasn’t there this time, just in the front of the building with stairs. Great! I didn’t see a ramp I could walk up so I did the stairs. Thankfully, they were wide enough apart and not that many. I didn’t have any problems with my membership card and walked through the museum. I had to ask where the Frida Kahlo exhibit was. It was on the 3rd floor of the place. I asked if there was an elevator and there was. I had to walk through a fancy dining hall to get to where I was going.

I got to the 3rd floor and looked for the exhibit. I was excited that I was finally going to see her art. Or thought I was. There were photos of Frida and then photos that she took, about 9 or so. I was so disappointed. My calf was starting to hurt from the brace. I walked around to see the other exhibits on the floor then made my way back to the exit, feeling downhearted. I had waited all year for this exhibited to be shown and for it to not be what I was expecting was just upsetting. When I came down the first floor, I saw the Egyptian exhibit and would have seen that but my calf was fricken barking at me. I left and then sat down in front of the museum to post online about my disappointment. I rested a few minutes as I just missed the train and would have to wait at least 10 mins for the next one.

I made my way across the street and waited. There wasn’t any seating so I had to stand. My calf was really bothering me and I don’t know why. I still had to go to Stop and Shop to see if I could get a disposable 10 inch pie plate. By the time I made it back, the temperature dropped and the wind was bitter cold. I didn’t have to wait too long for the bus to the store. I found a 9×9 square pan that I can use. Then I walked back to the bus stop. As I was walking, I saw a bus roll by. I knew I would have to wait. I still needed to get to the pharmacy to pick up my prescription. The next bus came about five minutes later. I was really cold. My calf decided it was going to hurt me even if I was sitting down. I couldn’t understand it as this device is made for fucking walking so it shouldn’t be bothering me. I guess I did too much.

I was starving by the time I came home as I didn’t eat lunch or really have breakfast. I made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. My mother had been baking and used my damn walnuts for her banana bread. Now I need to buy them because I don’t have enough for my cake. I am so fucking pissed. She was arguing with me about how much was left. I need a half cup and there is maybe a fourth of a cup left. Then we were talking about the oven use. She plans on making pies Wednesday. I don’t have money until then to get the fucking walnuts so she will have to wait to make her pies. I should have bought them when I bought the cranberries but I didn’t think my mother was going to use my ingredients for her stuff. Damn bitch. She didn’t even ask if she could have them. I am so damn annoyed. Then she wants me to make dinner because she needs to “rest”. Are you fucking kidding me?? She is making cookies as I am writing this. I think she can make dinner while she is at it. Think I need an Ativan before I explode.