Daily Word Prompt Missing

Daily Word Prompt Missing

I saw this word and immediately thought of my deceased father. I never thought I would be missing him, but I am. I miss his stupid phone calls. I miss taking him to doctor appointments. I miss the chaos he used to cause whenever I had to drive him somewhere. While I was driving, he loved to pinch my arm that was on the steering wheel. It would make me jump and freaked me out because wtf. I didn’t want to get into an accident and here this asshole is making me uncomfortable driving. He would always laugh when I told him to stop. And the endless directions of where to go. Go down this way, no go this way. I know a short cut. Take this right/left. I actually listened to him one night while driving home from his sister’s and we got lost. Never again will I listen to him. And now I will never again hear him give directions on how to get somewhere.

It’s been seven months since he has passed. It still feel like yesterday. I am glad the intrusive thoughts of his death have passed. I think I have been traumatized by his death because I never seen a human being die before. It wasn’t pleasant. I am grateful that when we brought him to his apartment, he died within a few hours and wasn’t a long drawn out affair.

I remember the whole day that he died, from the moment we came and saw him to the transport of bringing him home, to his final breath. I still feel anger for some reason. I don’t know if it is because of the way I felt towards him or because of the stages of grief. I feel stuck in it and I can’t get unstuck. Not that I am an angry person. I am not, least I don’t think I am. My father was. He was also very vengeful. It really pissed me off that things that had nothing to do with him, pissed him off. He would tell stories and I couldn’t help to think that this man was nuts with anger. Oh how he hated my grandmother (mother’s mother).

But despite all these wicked stories and aggravations, I miss seeing and hearing from him nearly every day. Every time I get notification of the bus line that brought me to his door, I think of him. Every time I see the bus, which is frequently, I think of him. He hated me taking the bus over going to the train station, because it was “easier and faster”. It really was the same time as taking the bus to his house. His sense of time was different than other peoples. And he hated waiting. The man had nothing better to do yet he would have a damn fit if the doctors were late seeing him. One time the doc was almost an hour late and he wanted to leave. I told him we couldn’t or we wouldn’t be able to get his medication refilled. He hated that I had an evening appointment with this doc but I didn’t. It was the first one available and I took it because I didn’t want my father to run out of his medication and then have the hassle of not getting it because he hasn’t been seen. He doctor was an asshole. But he provided care to my father and I was grateful for that.

It is tough around the holidays and birthdays. Not seeing him at these parties is a heartbreaker. This will be the first Christmas without him and it will mark his eighth month of his passing so it will be a difficult day. My sister was crying at Thanksgiving and I think she will cry again on Christmas. She was closer to my father than I was. I had to distance myself from him because he loved to torture me so much. But I would give anything to hear him make fun of me again.

Incompetence and needs: A story of transference

Incompetence and needs: A story of transference

My therapist read my Thanksgiving Eve blog and was basically horrified to find that she is inadequate for my needs. She wanted me, again, to see another therapist that was local as seeing someone in person on a regular basis might be more helpful to me. I nixed the idea because I don’t want to start over with someone new. She said it would be more as an adjunctive way. I don’t give a fuck, I am not setting out to see a new therapist. Then she brought up the whole CBT therapist idea. Nixed that too.

It got me thinking about what I need from my therapist. Frankly I don’t know. We have been struggling with my suicidality for so long that it just goes on without a resolution. It got me thinking about the CAMS philosophy and frankly, even though my therapist has been collaborative, she really hasn’t been. She acts more like a friend than a therapist at times. It has been driving me crazy since she took up the majority of the session with her guilt talk, whether it was directed towards me or her, I am not sure. She feels like she is failing me. Hence her incompetence.

There is more to solving suicidality than filling out the SSF forms. Again she brought up if she only knew how to get me to “open up” and write the answers she needs on the stupid forms, she will feel better. But that is not how it works. The SSF just provides you with problems that need solving so that you don’t end your life. The therapist and client are to work together to solve these issues so that life becomes more tolerable rather than intolerable, a “life worth living”. I’m never going to reach that stage of treatment because maybe I am too stubborn to give up my suicidality long enough to find a life worth living. I just go about my daily business of drinking coffee, writing this blog, taking care of my family and then dealing with a stupid therapist twice a week that drives me absolutely fucking insane with her idiocy.

Maybe we have been together too long and can’t see the forest for the trees. We are wrapped up in something and our path has gone so far astray that we just can meet anymore eye to eye. Maybe we are too close because my heart was really breaking today while she was droning on and on about seeing another therapist and how she was basically failing me. Yes, she is a pain in the ass. She is an idiot, but who isn’t really? I texted her that tomorrow will be our last session. I seriously doubt she will take me seriously. I don’t even know what no therapy will look like. I don’t want to know but what else can I do? Go on with a therapist that hates me on some level for calling her out?

Usually you bring up stuff and it gets dealt with and then you move on from it somehow, someway. A few years ago, we were at this impasse. The same issues were covered today. They haven’t moved on because they haven’t been dealt with. I know what needs to be done but I am just too much of a chicken shit. And there we have the needs piece again. I could list them and they would have NOTHING to do with the list from Shneidman. But I feel insecure and my therapist, even though she won’t admit it, does too. That was evident today and it was killing me inside. It broke my heart.

I know I have called my therapist a lot of names in this blog today, but I still believe she is right for me because we have a connection. Granted right now, that connection is a little frail but we are still tethered. The last time we talk about this, we went over Shneidman’s needs. He had 20 of them and I think I boiled them down to less than 10 that affected me, because part of his theory was that frustrated needs causes suicidal thinking. A lot has happened to me this year, more than any other year to date. Problem is that we just talk about shit in circles and we just go around and around because we are just on this merry-go-round that doesn’t have a stop.

People go to therapy for different reasons. I have a whole slew of them that are basically being neglected and possibly fueling my suicidality. I could list them but if you read my blog or my tweets every day you can probably figure out what the major ones are. I know my therapist can’t do shit about my physical pain, neither can my psychiatrist. I have trauma history, a death in my family that still hasn’t been quite dealt with, PTSD that I don’t think is managed, etc. just to name a few. I read blogs from fellow friends that suffer the same kinds of things that I struggle with yet they are dealing with differently. One of my blog friends has severe PTSD and has anxiety that tears her apart at times. My anxiety, though not a principle symptom, has becoming more of a problem lately because of my damn pain syndrome. It drives me to suicidal thinking. And there is no cut off valve when that level has been reached. So far I have managed but I still plan and strategize my suicidal plan because it comforts me to know I have a way out. I still don’t know what is going to happen this week. I know I have put off my plan but it’s back on again because, why the hell not if my therapist is pulling away from me, even though she says she is not.

In my head, I think I have spoiled my therapist. I bring her treats and indulge in her fantasy that I won’t kill myself. Maybe we both are trapped in that fantasy because I am still here either way you look at it. I have tried to bring her the reality my death will bring and even tried to say if I die, here is the help you need to find. I once brought her an article about it that she refused to read. She doesn’t think I will kill myself. Maybe that is what is keeping me going but it is also draining me to keep up this front week after week. I want to die very badly, to get away from myself because there are so many things I can’t stand about me. Being in pain every single day and night is also taxing me. Knowing the fact that my pain syndrome has changed course on me hasn’t helped matters. All I can do is what the voices tell me to do at the end of the day. So far I have ignored them, but one of these days, I will give in and things will finally be at peace. For me anyways.

Throbbing pain and suicidal thinking

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.

Just a lazy Friday

Just a lazy Friday

I woke up around 8 this morning and used the bathroom. I then went back to sleep only to wake up around 1300. I made some coffee and reheated some Lo Mein. That was all that my foot needed to explode. I was going to make my pumpkin cake today but I am not, even though it’s an easy recipe. I just don’t want to exert myself and then be toast tomorrow. I really want to go to the party tomorrow night. I am just going to try and rest today and stay off my foot as much as possible.

It’s raining today so I guess that is a good thing as I planned on killing myself today. I guess my time isn’t up yet. I am feeling pretty sad at this and angry. My therapist texted me last night. I told her to give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill myself and she gave me a couple. She said that I was worthwhile and valuable. Then the voices in my head started calling me a turd and a shithead. So I went to sleep with that in my head.

I wanted to work on my book but I am getting drowsy from the pain meds. I thought the coffee I had would offset the side effects but I was wrong. I don’t really care. I am listening to country radio and thinking of my friend. I feel sad knowing that she is gone. Her daughters are devastated. I can only imagine how her husband of 40 years feels. He is doing some running thing in DC. He is running in her honor.

I am feel really low. I also feel defeated, like something has been taken from me and I can’t get it back. I really don’t want to be anymore. If the weather was better, I might have still gone through with my plan. It just gives me another opportunity at another point in time. I feel risky because I can do it at any time. I don’t have to have a date. I just need to “snap” and have it be a nice day out. Of course, winter is on it’s way so there aren’t going to be that many nice days left. Birthday Month is coming up. I don’t know how I am going to handle all of this. I just don’t want to live anymore.