Tag: hopelessness

thoughts of the midnight demon

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

Thoughts of the midnight demon

“I haven’t slept all night as I have been in a lot of pain between my back (low pressure changes) and my ankle/foot. I am sharing with you something I have been sort of keeping from you because of fear of hosp.

Been in a quandary about what you said and what I talked about with a social worker friend. she thinks I should be evaluated. Parts of me agree but the one question, I cannot answer is the “why now…what has changed?” Frankly I don’t know. I wanted to end my life March 29th. I made the decision sometime in January. Since that time I held off for a week because the weather interfered with my plan. I have every thing worked out except the small details of where to leave my benefits pension information, banks, passwords to different accts, etc.

A few nights of despair with pain and psychache caused my plan to be more imminent. I couldn’t stand to reach my means to end my life so when I was “well”, I moved it closer. When I emailed you last night, I was so overwhelmed because I had planned, again, to end things this weekend. I’ve always had a plan and the means to carry it out. I don’t know why I haven’t acted. I know I don’t want to do it in my room. I rather be at some deserted place, which I have picked out but weather has been a factor in me getting there.

I still do not think hospital is the answer. It will not help except to babysit me and maybe give me more time to think things through or maybe work through the hard stuff and see where it leads me, but it is doubtful as the hospital just thinks this is an outpt issue (aka longer term) and once my level of safety is down, I will be released even if my “risk” factors are high.

Maybe Dr. Goldstein’s SW will be able to help me in the short term. I don’t know. I am scared to tell anyone but those I trust deeply (you). When I asked you Friday and you told me why you wanted me to live it gave me some hope to live again. Least for a day and a half. I do have plans for a book. But if I don’t get past these suicidal disturbances (I can send you a paper on it if you like), I don’t see the point in any of it. I am also ambivalent about asking for help because I have been rejected so many times or just have no received the care to reduce my internal struggle. I know this will not be an overnight thing. I know it is not a medication thing either (though I wish it were).

I honestly don’t know what to do. part of me wants to roll the dice and see if I die. Another part wants to attempt so maybe the hospital will take me more “seriously”. Walking in voluntarily hasn’t seemed to help much. I rather avoid the hospital all together and just do something else but not sure what that is.

these are my thoughts. I won’t tell you what my means are or where I am planning on ending things. Just know they are there and within reach. I have no method of planning a date. Any Friday will do, just so I can fuck with the suicide statistics.”

This is what I sent my psychiatrist. I felt she had to know because I sent her an email last night and she called me within ten minutes asking if she should send an ambulance to my house. She is worried about me, to say the least. I am so ambivalent about doing the acting part of taking my life. I don’t have to do it. That part is clear. But I want to do it so the thoughts will leave me, so that I can say I did it and then well, if I succeed then fine. If I don’t, I will be indeed a failure and I will accept the consequences. I have not chosen a very lethal means. I don’t have a gun and I don’t plan on hanging myself. But what I have chosen might end up killing me if I hit the right spot. The more I think about it the more I want to do it. It is like a nagging thing inside my head. I feel like I have two things on each side of my shoulders like in cartoons, one is like a good part and the other a bad part. Each one seems to talk louder than the other and I still survive the hellish nights of wanting to die so damn bad.

I know my means needs to go to someone else, for now. Not indefinitely. I know I should talk with someone who isn’t afraid of suicide and will hear me out when I am suicidal without resorting to hospitalization when I bring it up. I also will not abide by “suicide contracts” basically I am safe until next session without a clear plan on what to do in the meantime. If a safety plan or crisis response plan is not implemented and I am held accountable to actually do it (fuck I am wicked bad at my suggestions and following through because I know best type of thing. I am also bad at giving advice and not listening to it when it involves me). I would like a therapist that is willing to work with me on specific skills to decrease my suicidality like DBT or CBT, brief. But that involves that they actually know how to treat someone who is chronically suicidal or at least, knows chronic suicidal ideations. Otherwise, what good is either of them. CAMS is good (my opinion, the gold standard) but there are very few, if at all, therapists in the Boston area that have this type of training, least to my knowledge. There was a therapist in Cambridge that had the type of training best suited to me but unfortunately the bitch never had the courtesy of calling me back.

I have been up all night. I will most likely sleep all day. I am tempted to send this to my pcp’s social worker and see what she has to say. I will send her the link, maybe. I am very selective on who I let in on my suicidal world.

For those reading this, I am safe. I am not going to kill myself this week. I currently don’t have a specific plan in mind at the moment. So do me a favor and not call the police on me because you read this and said “omg suicidal, call the cops”.

gender dysphoria flares again

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

Gender dysphoria flares again

I had PT today. I didn’t get to drink more than one cup of coffee. I could barely finish the cup as I had to run. I was in slow mo today as I was just so tired. I had another bad night sleeping. I really have no idea what time I fell asleep but I know it was after 0230. I got dressed and wore my favorite flannel shirt that I found last night while going through my clothes.

Because of the standing and sort of half bending I did (with breaks because my back wasn’t having it), my hammy on the left and both calves were killing me. I could barely move which further slowed me down. I had the button down flannel on and it was a little tight in the chest area, so much so that it triggered my loathing of the things on me. I tried to ignore it and listen to my music but it was like a band around me and I hated it so bad. I thought about top surgery again. I honestly don’t know if I can do it, especially as I am really suicidal right now. I just don’t feel that is a priority right now. At the same time, I want these stupid things off. I hate myself for being in the wrong body. It also sort of throws gas on the suicidal fire that is going on.

I came home after getting some pizza at one of the local pizza places. I got the Sicilian kind as I really wanted it. I found five bucks in the shirt so it was sort of a reward. By the time I got to my room to change, my fucking legs gave up on me and both feet were killing me. I got my laptop and was scrolling through Twitter. There was a physician weekly chat and the topic today was insurances, specifically how they deny services or delay care due to prior authorizations. It made me think of top surgery and moving forward with it as I am not sure my insurance will cover it and then I will be screwed. My PCP had mentioned that it will take some doing with both of my insurances to get the surgery covered. There is a meeting of transmen I am thinking of attending the first week in April, if I don’t end up ending things before then.

I’ve had it with my fucking mother. She has been calling me my birthname the past few days and today with all the gender dysphoria going on, I just can’t deal. It is sending me further down the black hole I am in. She refuses to call me by my legal name or use the right pronouns. I am so fucking upset. I just feel like I am a fucking outsider in my own home. No one in my house respects me. I give it to them. I guess I am not worth the same in return. I am just done. I got three more notes to write. Hope I can do it. No one is to blame except me.

Protected: Can’t sleep because of pain part 878932

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

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Am I a hopeless case?

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

Am I a hopeless case?

My med alarm woke me up. I reluctantly sat up to take them. I wanted to go back to sleep but my bladder said it had to go. It was really quiet in my house so I thought my mother was out. I went downstairs and peeked in the kitchen. My mother was there and the TV was on mute, hence why it was quiet. I did my business and brushed my teeth. I went upstairs wanting to go back to sleep but I needed to pick up my package at the FedEx office. I was debating on how to get there. Then I got a phone call that wrecked my day.

The phone call was the social service dept at the hospital where all my doctors are (except my neurologist who is at a different hospital). I could tell by her voice she wasn’t going to give me pleasant news. She was speaking slowly which was annoying. I let her say what she needed to. The whomever decided I needed “long term care” and they do not provide it. So she gave me some other places I could try. I got upset. One of the places she “recommended I try” was Psychology Today’s website and I told her the therapists there do what you are doing to me once they hear my history. She was taken aback by that. It is true, that is why I am stuck in therapist limbo because I have a history of suicide attempts AND could possibly be in crisis, which makes therapists uncomfortable. Rather than dealing with it, they just don’t see you or pass you on to someone else. So I got a few contacts, one was a social worker referral line. I am not going to call them. I sent a message to my PCP’s social worker to let her know I was upset they denied me services.

After the phone call, I just cried. I was so frustrated and angry and when I get like that, I just cry. I felt pretty hopeless. I feel like I am just this hopeless case no one wants to take on. I still have the other therapist I put on hold but I really don’t want to go back to see him when he really hasn’t helped me in the year I saw him. All I got from him was venting my frustrations on my medical care and other stresses, like my mother being an asshole. I wrote to my psychiatrist to let her know. She told me the hospital does not provide therapy (then why are they number 1 in psychiatry???) and we will talk about this more tomorrow. I didn’t respond to the email. I had started to cry again.

I feel utterly defeated, worse than I have ever felt about not having a therapist since 2016. I keep replaying the scenario in my mind when I asked my therapist if we should end, not expecting a yes but got a yes. I was shocked. Then I couldn’t get a hold of her as it was the holidays and I just thought when I spoke to her next things would be eased out and we go back the way it was before. Nope, she was going to terminate. In a month. With no appointments in between that January appointment and the February one. Since then I had to call like seven therapist before I landed the one I saw until my physical mobility was shot. I think I stopped seeing him in January. I wasn’t getting much from him anyways. More than a few times, he pissed me off so much I would cancel the next appointment. He never asked why, just did it and never talked about it. All my previous therapists always asked why I canceled and got the third degree when I did so. In a lot of ways he is different than all of the ones I saw before. But he was okay with me being suicidal. I could talk about it with him like I couldn’t with anyone else. But that is all it was, talking. No plans or structure or anything else to cope with how horrible I felt. So even though I had someone I could talk to, I often felt alone with what I talked about because there was a lack of care with the heaviness I spoke about. No idea if I am making sense. The last straw for me with him was when he told me to Google relaxation techniques after I told him my PTSD was keeping me from sleeping. He just said it was “anxiety” keeping me up. So now I will have Google as my therapist. No one else wants the job.