got to keep tabs

Got to keep tabs

Last night I was in a rough spot again. Pain had been bad yesterday, so bad that I dissociated on the way home. One minute I was at North Station and the next I am at the pharmacy. I have no recollection of how I got there. Pain was too intense I didn’t even have a number for it. All I know is I felt myself floating above me the whole time since leaving the brace eval to get my AFO adjusted. They adjustment felt good except the figure 8 strap that goes around my ankle to keep my foot in place. It is annoying the sensitivity I have in that area. Pain kept on going higher, I would dissociate, it would go down and I would be suicidal.

I sort of noticed a change with the way the pain happens. Intense pain would hit and I would become suicidal. Next time it hit, I would then plan on my escape because the pain was so unbearable and life was not worth living, at all. With this change, the urge to act is getting stronger. I realized last night it would be only a matter of time before the intense pain would hit and I would act on my urges if I had the means to do so. I had emailed my psych about the dissociation and how I either was going to pass out from pain and instead dissociated. I honestly have no idea how I got home, I wrote to her. Then to make me smile, the zoo I follow for giraffe pics showed the newest giraffe, Azizi, who turned four months old yesterday. She wrote back saying she didn’t know I liked giraffes.

Later that night, I thought I would reply to the email and then tell her the situation with the means and how close I am to acting on it when my pain is out of control. I have no real stop gap measure other than to email my doc like I have always done. Sometimes I will page her if I need to but I am not sure the pager is working and because most of the time this happens at night, I don’t want to call her late. I was hesitant in sending the email and I told her I would be meeting with the therapist today. I had no idea if I would be able to tell her this stuff. I get scared when talking to new therapists about my suicidality because some of them just don’t know how to deal with it and just send you to the ER. Around 2 am, and reading the email a fourth time, I sent it.

I didn’t have a response when I woke up so I figured she had read it but wouldn’t respond to it. I woke up late, like literally have to run out the door to catch the bus late. My bowel can always be counted on to stop the rush, which meant I couldn’t wash my face or brush my teeth. Seeing as yesterday I had somehow had a piece of shit stuck to me for hours I couldn’t fucking feel because of CES, I made sure I wiped good and pushed to make sure all the shit that was going to come out, did. Today turned into shit day as by the time I got to the bus stop, I was needing to go again. I wasn’t going to miss the bus because that would mean missing my appointment. There were no other buses coming for another hour which sucks. My stomach settled down a bit by the time I got my espresso. I didn’t have time to eat something. I got to the train station and had to go when I got to the hosp. I had a half hour before seeing the therapist so plenty of time to hopefully empty my bowels. Was not the case because by the time I got to the building where the therapist was at, I had to go again but there was no time. Luckily I was able to hold off the whole session without having to excuse myself.
The session went ok. We talked more about CBT and I showed her the book I wanted to lend her. She said her reading time was limited so she didn’t want to take the book. She asked what was specific in the book to work on and I said the CBT stuff was over my head as there was very little I knew about it other than the basics, which after 25 years, I barely remembered since psych 101. She explained and we went over things. I told her I needed a stop gap measure between the intense pain leading to suicidal thoughts that lead to planning and is leading up to acting. She had some coping stuff like putting an ice pack on the back of my neck. I could do that. I actually had that during one of my hospitalizations when I was in really bad shape. Somehow we discussed the crisis response plan that I have in nearly all my journals (only exception is the night journal I am currently. I don’t have it there because there is a strap and I am scared some idiot in the hosp, should I bring it, will treat it as a safety issue and take it away from me). She said this was good. I said yes it is but I need to be held accountable to actually using it because I can skip the steps and go right to crisis mode, which is calling my contact or my therapist/psych or even going to the emergency room. Plus, I don’t think I am ready for it as I get too overwhelmed to think about writing alternatives to my suicidal thoughts. I said the “stepping back” might work for me, which I have been trying. It hasn’t been easy but I try. She did say a lot of the stuff is going to be based on how much I do. Hence why I have avoided CBT for the longest time. I sort of want a quick fix and sometimes just talking about things is that fix except when I don’t get validated for what I say.

On my way to my appointment, my psych emailed me. When I was riding on the train, I got to read it. She said she wanted to talk and would call me in the late afternoon. I said that is fine as I should be home by then. She called a little after 1900. I gave her a brief update on things. Told her I have been having a hard time keeping up with my blog. She said that was okay as I didn’t write every day. I told her it is now more than that, like 4 days or so before I write. I told her I haven’t even been writing in my journal. I have stuff to write but nothing is coming out. She seemed kind of worried about this but didn’t say anything. I told her about the means and how I plan to have someone hold it for me. I just need to figure out logistics. She asked if we can talk next week. I said okay. That is when she said she needs to keep tabs on me, in her professional “motherly” voice. I said don’t you always?

Tuesday is Broken

Tuesday’s Broken

I was feeling pretty crappy today. Back pain was really bad and I just felt really, really down and worthless. I posted how I felt and someone responded with how I help people with how I feel with my posts and raw emotions. After I asked her if I could share her response and she said I could. I posted it on my IG and FB. I also sent a screen shot of it to my psych as she told me the things this person said, maybe not the way she said it, but the sentiment is the same. While I was thinking of all of this, Sugarland’s song, Tuesday is Broken popped into my head. I couldn’t find a more fitting song in that moment.

Last night I was transferring Gatorade from one bottle to another and ended up spilling it on my bedding. My back was hurting terribly so I wasn’t going to do it right then. I was cold because of the AC so I got some blankets and covered myself with those. The back pain didn’t ease up. When I woke up this morning to take my morning meds, I accidently doubled my dose of breakthrough meds and that made me very sleepy. I have been sleeping on and off all afternoon. I had sent my psych an email around 4 am saying I was worthless. I half expected her to call me but she didn’t. I also told her how suicidal I was feeling because my ankle and foot were no longer dissociating. I was getting crazy thoughts and wanted to go through with them so bad. I emailed her instead and that kind of lifted my load a bit. I have not heard from her at all. I hope she is getting my emails and they aren’t in cyber space somewhere. I haven’t been getting a “could not deliver” message so that is good. I think I have emailed her nearly every day this week. Been trying not to and the more I try, the more I fail. I just send her one email a day unless I am having a hard time, like I was last night. I honestly don’t remember being up at 4 but I must have because that is the time I sent the email. I think I also shut the AC off because of being cold. Today has been really hot that the AC is making my room cold but not an ice box. It is so fricken muggy in the house.

I made an egg burrito for the first time in ages. It was good. I put picante sauce in it before I rolled it up. I found that was better than spooning it onto it with each bite. I might make another tomorrow. I bought the flour tortillas. I have been eating them with chili. I fell in love with a Hormel chunky kind with beans. It has a little bit of a kick to it as my nose always runs when I eat it. I really want to make my cookies but it has been so fricken hot that I don’t want to be in my kitchen at all. Maybe I can convince my sisters to install a wall unit and shush my mother about it. It just makes cooking so hard in the summer.

I was still feeling a little sick after I ate. I think it was because of the pain meds. I took a Zofran so I wouldn’t hurl the contents of my stomach. I had coffee. I wanted another cup but my shirt was soaked with sweat and I didn’t want to stay in the kitchen anymore. The testosterone has so increased my sweating. I hate that I have to wear deodorant all the time now because otherwise, I stink within minutes in this heat, even if I just came out of the shower. I really hate that I have to put off top surgery until the construction is done. I am starting to look stupid because I have facial hair and female boobs. I so hate the things on my chest. I hate them more and more every single day. I think that is why I have been feeling such loathing and worthlessness. I have no idea how to counteract the gender dysphoria. I have been shaving again. I had wanted to stop to see what grew but my nephew said that if I keep shaving it will grow faster so I am doing that. There is one slight problem…I like having a smooth face so I am not sure growing a beard, even though I really want one, is going to be possible. I could just grow it and see how it feels and then if I don’t like it, shave it off. I am not going to let it grow crazy like my nephew does. I can’t stand when men do that. It just drives me crazy. I like when it is neat. Maybe it is just me.

The good news is that because I rested and took meds, my back isn’t hurting me as much. It could have flared up because the thunderstorms were passing through and the pressure changes set it off as well. Either way, I am just glad I can move without pain again. My foot is killing me but that is a constant thing that will never go away. I just hope it doesn’t make me suicidal again like it did last night. Pain had jumped from a 12 to a 15 to a 17 within a few hours. I am really exhausted from it, even though I really haven’t done much today. Tomorrow I want to take down the recycling in my room as it has been growing. I just got some study money for Amazon so I might order the bins I was looking at. I was planning on getting four but I might get six. I was going to buy another foam topper that DOESN’T fucking move but I am too afraid it is going to make me hot because of the gel. I also don’t have a place I can spread it out on for 24 hours. I might sleep in the recliner in the living room if I do get it. It has to air out for that long in order for it to “set.” It is also summer so being in the living room right now would totally fucking suck because it will be hot as hell and I won’t be able to sleep. I am completely heat intolerant because of the nerve injury and T. I might hold off till after the construction so I can maybe place it in the dining room floor for 24 hours and then carry it up to my room. I just hope it doesn’t sell out by then because I will be pissed!

Feeling anxious again so I took my pulse. It dropped 5 points since I last took it. It has been steadily dropping today. After I ate it went up to 89, then went down to 63 and now it is 58. It will probably get lower as the night goes on. I have no idea why my pulse drops when I am in pain. My blood pressure is good; I don’t get hypotensive or hypertensive. I just hate feeling fearful for no reason. I hope tomorrow I can do some more stuff around my room, like putting more clothes in the drawers that I cleared out. Or maybe just put my PJs in there so I know where they are, if I remember LOL. I also had trouble peeing today because I forgot to take my urine retention pill. I was having bad bladder pains and spasms. I was wondering why and then I realized I hadn’t peed since the morning. I wasn’t getting the urge to go because that fucking connection seems to want to work when it wants to work, not when it is supposed to thanks to Cauda Equina Syndrome. My sister was yelling at my mother for something so I didn’t want to go downstairs. I hate that I am walking on eggshells in my own house again because of the bitch bully.

Saturday blog 22062019

Saturday Blog 22062019

I’ve not had a good day. I slept poorly and then fought with my sister throughout the day. Whenever I called her out, the madder she got. She started going through my stuff and when I told her to stop, she refused, saying that I needed to go through my stuff. I told her she wouldn’t like me going through her stuff so stop it. Then she got pissed off and wanted to through shit in my room. She was hauling stuff but I don’t see most of it. My nephew came home from where ever he was and helped me clear some stuff in my room that didn’t seem so overwhelming to him. He did a good job, I helped but it hurt. It took hours for the stabbing in my ankle to stop. It is still sore but I decided to make a marinara sauce anyways as baking cookies would take too much out of me.

I called my psych a little after three. She wanted to know how I was doing with the UTI. I said I was ok and still have symptoms but feel a little better than yesterday. I still haven’t had a decent meal. I had two protein bars yesterday and today I had some cottage cheese with pineapple and then some ice cream. I could barely finish the ice cream, which was not even a full bowl. I kind of feel sick now but at least something is in my stomach.

I weighed myself this morning and I am down another five pounds due to no appetite. I am trying to eat but I am so damned stressed with my sister and now losing my psych. I really feel like I am living with my father as I never know when she is going to jump down my fricken throat. I called her a bully and she laughed at me. Then said she needed to put a stick up my ass, but that isn’t a bully. Fucking bitch. I can’t stand living here but I have no place to go. There is a shit load of waiting lists for disabled people looking for housing, which is so fucking stupid as they are constantly building places. I don’t understand why some of the new housing isn’t for subsidized rents and stuff. Makes no sense.

As I couldn’t sleep last night and felt like I was going to puke, I wrote my psych a letter. It was a little sentimental. I cried again and then some during the night. I kept on having weird dreams. One was of my little cousin (who is 3 or 4) was on my dining room table but she was like 1 or 2. My sister (the bitch one) kept telling me my great grandmother was coming over. It was said at least three times. In the dream it was my father’s mother and I never met her. She died before I was born. Another dream had me bending for something when my mother walks by and uses my back as a support, pushing on it and I woke up with screaming in pain. That part of my back was hurting. There was a third dream but I don’t remember it now. I finally gave up sleeping around 1230, wanting to make cookies but my stupid sister was going through my shit and I knew it would be hell if I baked even though it was a nice cool day. I am so mad at her. She doesn’t understand a damn thing about what I go through and every time I try to get her to get it or at least try and understand, it falls on deaf ears.

This morning when I took my meds, I noticed I didn’t take it yesterday. That was probably why I was feeling so terrible. I thought I had taken them as I took off the alarm. I got results of the urine culture and it was negative. I hope when I finish taking the antibiotics, it remains clear. I am still having pain when peeing. My last dose of antibiotics is Monday night. Monday is going to be a hard day. I am already dreading it as I am not sure how it will be. I have so much to talk to my psych about yet I am not sure there will be enough time to get through it all. I really want to make sure that she will sign off when I want to have top surgery. Also need to work out what to do when I get into a bad spot again. The thought of her not being there is not making me feel easy. I am going to give her my business card that has my contact info on it so in case she doesn’t have it or for some reason, I can’t get in touch with her, she will at least have a way to contact me. I will feel better knowing this.

I’m glad my night meds include Ativan as I need one right now. I am so fricken anxious for some reason. I left the marinara sauce to cool and fear of being reprimanded for leaving it. I hate feeling like I am walking on eggshells in my own house! I can’t deal with the stress. I have enough of it dealing with chronic pain and trying to sleep as well as keep my appointments with my healthcare providers. I haven’t been able to do the new PT exercises. I really haven’t been feeling well and have had too much on my mind.

more thoughts on my blog

More thoughts on my blog

A reader emailed me and I thought about what she said. This is my blog and last time I checked, calling someone stupid wasn’t breaking any laws. So on this note, I have decided to keep my blog open, not password protected. If that monitor person wants to continue reading my blog, there is nothing I can do to stop them. I do know that my stats seem to go up when I post so even if I don’t know who you are, I know you are reading.

I’ve had a horrible day so far. My middle sister has been cleaning my mother’s room. When I got out of my room to take a shower, she said that I had to go through my stuff so she can move her things there. I also had to move the stuff in the living room so she can also move her stuff there. I took my shower and found that the shampoo bottle that had a pump on it, she threw away because the bottle was empty. I was so fucking pissed. I called her an asshole and she got pissed. I don’t care. I am tired of her thinking she is the only person living here and has to make the house the way she wants it to be. I got really suicidal after our exchange. She just doesn’t realize how upset she gets me, like I don’t matter at all. Yesterday she left crap on the stairs, which made it hard for me to go down. I really don’t want to fucking fall and she doesn’t get that my balance is off. She also placed a bin right at the bottom of the stairway, which I kicked out of the way. I got so mad. I texted her, in a neutral way, and got no response. I have no idea if she has blocked me or what but every text I send her, she doesn’t respond to anymore. I sick of her shit. I emailed my psych to let her know what was going on. After the disaster of a family meeting via phone, I really don’t know how to get through to the dumbass. Yet she has the audacity of calling me selfish. Such a projection.

After my shower, I made something to eat. My foot started bothering me but I still did what I had to do. By the time I made it back to my room, it flared up big time. My foot and ankle are competing as to who is going to hurt more. I so want to nap as I have been up since 0630 but I really don’t want to. Will be hard to anyway as there is so much light in my room due to my window being open. I have a hard time sleeping when there is light in my room.

Never had a nap. Just had dinner with my mother. I made hot dogs and beans. My foot wants to fucking kill me. I hate it when simple things cause me pain. You think I was walking miles. Speaking of walking, I really need to get my AFO (ankle foot orthotic) adjusted as my foot keeps slipping. I think I have a bit of atrophy plus with the weight loss, I don’t think it is fitting right. I hate that I gained about 10 pounds while in the hospital, mostly because I was eating three meals a day, but they were huge dishes. I tried to eat a salad with chicken or just a turkey sandwich but it wasn’t always possible because I would forget to fill out the menu for the next day. Sometimes I would skip breakfast as they served eggs at least every other day and I don’t like them. I rather make it. I am just picky like that. The rest of the days they had French toast, which wasn’t bad but it was filling. Since being home, I have been having much smaller meals at least twice a day. Yesterday I just had steak and then a protein bar because I was in too much pain to go downstairs to make something. I forgot how painful stairs were.

I got to fill my med boxes for the week. The doc in the hosp increased the Lamictal and I think it has finally improved my mood somewhat. I kind of feel like what I was before I was in the pit of doom. I am just more tired and on a “day” schedule. I went to bed early, or tried to before pain kept me up till at least 1 am. Then I woke up around 630, only because I had to pee. I am glad I woke up because I leaked. Both my pjs and underwear were wet as I didn’t wear a diaper. I bought a much comfortable brief style while in the hospital because they didn’t have a good kind. I should have brought my own but didn’t think I needed them. Now I know better.

Neil Gaiman’s Good Omens came out the end of May. I got it free because I am an Amazon Prime member. I downloaded the episodes to my Kindle, but I still haven’t watched it yet. I keep meaning to but pain has been a chief distracter. Usually watching a movie or something helps but I don’t have the attention span lately. I can watch short videos and then I get bored if it is more than 10 minutes. I think the only thing I can watch for longer is the Rachel Maddow show. I haven’t watched it in a long while because it was just annoying me. She seems to say the same thing in three different ways over and over. Then she goes on only to come back to the original question or point. I had to take a break and haven’t watched since. Maybe I will watch one episode of Good Omens later tonight, if my pain doesn’t get worse after I do my med boxes.