Tag: grief

Blustery Sunday

by Midnight Demon, posted in Bipolar Disorder, depression, mental disorders, mood disorders

The wind has been howling all day and doesn’t look like it’s going to stop. It’s nice because it’s cool out. My room is no longer 100 degrees and I have a long sleeve t-shirt on.

I feel blah. I woke up again at 0300. I had to pee but was able to get back to sleep afterwards. I didn’t sleep restfully as I felt I was waking up every hour. Then I felt sick. I think it was because of a migraine. If I wake up feeling nauseous tomorrow it might be because of the zoloft. I might have gone up a little too quickly.

What really sucks is I want to brush my teeth but I am afraid I will vomit. I’m waiting for my stomach to settle down.

I’m very sleepy from taking my morning meds. I think I got to stop the ativan as it’s just knocking me out. I hate taking the meds as I don’t take it in the morning like they prescribed. My psych just wrote it that way so I would have it for prns.

Last night I had a hard time. I was trying to work on my essay of the last two hours of my father’s life and I got wicked upset. The “movie” started playing and I couldn’t stop it. I remember giving him his last dose of medication and then he died soon after. It still feels surreal. I don’t know how to get through this. No one prepares you for losing a parent. When I think of all that my sisters and I have gone through the last few months, it’s tough. He didn’t die alone. He died in his bed and not some nursing home. I keep replaying all that stuff in my head. But the last two hours have stuck with me more than the months previous.

Once I finish writing the story (it’s on a notepad), I will type it up. I might publish it on my blog. I’m not sure. I know it might be password protected so my therapist and psych can read it. I just wish I could plow through and write it even though it’s difficult.

I hope to be discharged Tuesday. That might not happen. I will be upset if it doesn’t. If I didn’t have my stupid pain management appt Friday, I would stay longer.

Headache that won’t go away

by Midnight Demon, posted in Bipolar Disorder, depression, mood disorders

Since I woke up this morning, I had a headache. I’ve taken Tylenol and my migraine pill but I still got this stupid headache. I can’t take advil because I take an NSAID. I wish I was home.

I we t to two groups today. The first was about positive psychology. It was a dumb group. The second was group therapy. Most of the people there talked about losing family members. It zoned me out a bit because it brought up losing my father. One woman, who I told I lost my father recently, asked if I was okay. It kind of pissed me off. I didn’t want to talk about the loss. I didn’t feel comfortable in the group. But I talked a little about how “great” my father was.

I haven’t touched the essay I am writing about the last two hours of his death. I had brought that up in group but I didn’t elaborate on what it was about. I haven’t been in a writing mood today because of this headache. I am going to try writing about it later, that is if the sleeps don’t get a hold of me. I have been sleeping since 1430 and just got up to have dinner and write a blog. I didn’t sleep good last night. I was able to get an ativan prn. That might help.

I was shocked that one of the nurses read my New York Times article. I don’t know how he knew as he wasn’t my contact and I didn’t tell him. He told me it was amazing. I am really proud of the piece. I’d link it to this blog but I am on my phone and don’t know how. If you search for love, Hate and suicide you can find it. That is the title of the article. I also have a blog under that name that has the link.

I talked with my mother. She was shocked that I have to be here a week for my “medication adjustment”. She doesn’t understand psych meds. Course I didn’t tell her it was a psych med. But then I am at a psych hospital. She thought I was in Cambridge for some reason. I don’t know what her thinking was. My sister called me after my mother did. I was in group so didn’t have my phone. I had called my sis last night and meant to call her back but I had an attack of the sleeps.

I had a good sleep but unfortunately, only slept till 0230. I was up for a few hours before I finally went back to sleep. I slept 3 hours more and have been up since. I took a shower and brushed my teeth. Getting hot water here takes so damn long. I must have waited at least 20 mins for the water to get hot. I’m just glad I had a chair to sit and wait.

My social worker is really good. She brought me some behavioral papers to see if that would help me. My attending psychiatrist is wonderful. He is going to look up my book. I really like working with him. He is going to increase the zoloft to 100 mg over the weekend. He is the rounding doc for the weekend so I am glad.

I really hope to be out of here by Tuesday. I want to have a session with my therapist next week. I emailed my psychiatrist for an appointment but haven’t heard back from her. I just hope it doesn’t hold up discharge. Otherwise I will make up a date and time.

I am so fucking glad my neurologist’s office called to make an appointment. I had problems getting through so emailed them to call me. It isn’t until July but that is ok. Gives me time to work out my depression and grief.

Sleepy day on the unit

by Midnight Demon, posted in Bipolar Disorder, depression, mood disorders

I didn’t get much sleep last night. I must have slept for two hours before I woke up in pain. So I had to ask the nurse for one pill to calm my screaming ankle. It took a while to get back to sleep.

The crier on the floor was quiet so I listened to some music quietly as I didn’t have my headphones. I fell asleep for another two hours and I have been up since.

I met with social worker and doc separately. The social worker said she would work on partial hospitals but I really have no interest in them. I think I got a good team finally that is willing to work with me rather than give me empty promises.

The doc is willing to increase the zoloft to 100. I am to go up tonight and watch for manic symptoms. I never has manic symptoms with zoloft. I told him I want to go up to 100 mg as he was thinking 3 times what I take now. I just don’t want to get sick.

I texted my therapist about writing about the last two hours of my father’s life. She said it might be good to work on it while I’m here. Even the doc I saw said it could be helpful. So after I took my nap, I started working on it. I got to where we were waiting for the elevator at the nursing home then stopped.

This isn’t going to be an easy paper/essay to write. I told my contact person I was going to start writing it just in case I become unglued. I know I don’t have to write this. But I’m hoping that if it’s on paper it won’t bother me so much. It’s like a movie that keeps playing in my head.

I emailed my psychiatrist to let her know who my team was. I didn’t say anything else other than I was still depressed. It really sucks battling depression for so long all the while losing a parent. He might not have been the best, but he was my father.

Hosp vs no Hosp

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

Hosp vs no Hosp

I have been thinking about this for the past hour, talking it over with the voices. They are loud tonight. I haven’t taken my night meds yet. But I am thinking this, what if I go in the hospital and they smack the “complicated grief” bullshit on me because my father died two weeks ago? I have been struggling with the hospital for more than a month now as the depression was and has been steadily getting worse. I only avoided getting in the hospital a week before my father died because I didn’t want him to die while I was inpatient.

My depression started the last week in January and then got complicated when my father had to go for radiation treatment, then two weeks later was in the hospital because of chest pain. That started his decline. We spent most of March in the hospital with him for pleural effusions, lung collapses, and ascites build up. In April, his ammonia levels were up, causing confusion and more lethargy. His appetite then became non existent and we were told he had a few weeks to a few months to live. Turned out he had just a few weeks. We put him in the nursing home on April 8th and he was gone by April 25th. Not even twenty days later.

In the middle of March, I got started on an antidepressant. Thoughts of wanting to kill myself were rampant. I should have been in the hospital but I became my father’s health care proxy during one of his admissions in March. I couldn’t go in because if they needed my signature while he was confused or needed treatment he couldn’t consent for, I had to be there. It was a delicate situation.

I think starting on antidepressant therapy helped me cope. I still wasn’t eating as I have lost a considerable amount of weight during this time. My last physical in August, I was 218. I am now 203/205. I am struggling to keep this weight because I don’t want to balloon up again. I still don’t have a full appetite like I used to have. Food doesn’t interest me much. I lost a lot of interest in things I used to enjoy. I should be watching the Sox game right now but I am blogging because I really don’t care about the game anymore. It’s lost its appeal with me, and that is not because of the team and all the drama it has this year. I have also lost interest in coffee. I don’t drink it every day like I used to. I can’t remember the last time I made it at home. I don’t go to Starbucks as often as I used to either. I just lost the taste for their coffee, which I used to love. I go there out of habit now but only if I have an appointment in Boston. Otherwise, I just stay at home.

I don’t know if I need to be in the hospital. Sure I am at risk of suicide, that is a given. But will I be helped while being in, is the question. I don’t know if it will annoy me or help me. I don’t know what hospital I will go to. If it isn’t the hospital I was in before, I will hate being somewhere else. The past three years I have been going to this unit when I need to be inpatient. It will be difficult being somewhere else that I haven’t been to before. And I don’t want to be in the ER all day and night waiting for a bed, though I will if that means going to the hospital of my choice. Last admission, I made it to the hospital and was admitted through their admission office rather than through the ER. I just cut the middle man out.

I just really don’t want to be admitted and then have the admission focused on my grief for a father I really didn’t care for or love whole heartedly. He wasn’t a dad by any means. He wasn’t loving towards us, though he probably would have said so. The only time I seen him show affection was when he won at the track and wanted to share his prize winnings. I could go on about the cruelty of the man but I won’t. That will be another blog. I will be damned if some social worker or attending psychiatrist pegs me as a complicated grief stage when it’s only been two weeks and I have been depressed since around the 19th of January. I only remember that date because I know that is when my feelings changed and my appetite became less. The physical symptoms of depression reared it’s ugly head and I was in pain. I was walking in mud. My thoughts were slow and painful. It took me hours to write a 300 word blog. All the while, I would have urges to take a bottle of pills. It didn’t matter which one I took. I just knew to not reach for my pain medication because I was not going to die of liver failure due to acetaminophen. That bottle was not to be touched. All the others were up for grabs. I had a choice or I could take all of them. Mix and match. I didn’t care as long as I didn’t see tomorrow. My hanging myself went out the window because I don’t have a beam. And partly because I don’t like things around my neck except for a tie.

My father died before I could have killed myself. I find this ironic. I know that between my therapist and my psychiatrist, both will make it so I get in the hospital. The only question is what kind of care I will have there. I know I will have a mountain of meds to sort through and I hope they don’t deny me my pain meds. I will not be happy about that one bit. I guess that it’s the care that keeps me from going in the hospital as well as the list of medication that I take. I take around 12 pills every night. I know if I go to the hospital of my choosing, it will be more like 20 pills because they will break up one of my medication. Instead of taking 1 pill, I will be taking 4. I go through this every admission. They don’t have the formulary in the hospital so they make do with another formulary, which means more pills. Guess I will find out tomorrow if I will go in or not. I am scared though. Giving up my rights and my cell phone is hard, even if it is for a little while.