Tag: hopelessness

Psych Appointment

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

I met with my psychiatrist today. We talked about all that has been happening since I last saw her. I had a smile on my face but she wasn’t fooled by the mask. I told her I had no appetite and lost weight. She was a little concerned. She is more concerned about the episode that happened on Sunday. She wants me to call her the next time it happens. She wanted to go up on the Zoloft but I told her I didn’t. I want to see if it will work at 50 mg before I increase it. It’s only been a week and a day since the increase. Got to give it some time to work, even though I want it to work instantly. I just wish the hopelessness would abate for a little while.

I got my letter from my doc about disability. Now I just got to mail it. I will do it tomorrow. There are a few books I got to send out to a couple potential reviewers. I never thought I would be giving away my book for free but I am. Unfortunately, I still haven’t had one review back from the free give aways.

I have been in a depressed mood for most of the day. I told my psych I wanted to jump off a bridge. If the Tobin was more accessible to me, I think it might be a possibility. But I am afraid of heights so I don’t see that happening. When I told my psych about staring at a bottle of pills I am grateful she didn’t ask which one. She knows I have enough medication to kill a horse. And she knows my knowledge of medication.

I texted my therapist to see if I could see her tomorrow or at least have a check in and she is back to back. But she will try to call me. I hope there is a cancellation. I think it’s good to keep her in the loop too. My psych also said today that she appreciates the little emails I send her about how I am doing.

I haven’t had any food today. I had an Ensure and a soy latte that I didn’t even finish. I just couldn’t drink the last four ounces or so. My psych wants me to eat but it’s not so simple as that. I am getting hungry but I don’t know what to eat. It’s a toss up between a black bean burger and tuna sandwich. I am leaning toward the tuna sandwich because it’s more filling.

My ankle gave way the last block on the way home. It just didn’t want to flex as I took each step. I have it up and took a pain pill. Now I got to go down the stairs and it isn’t going to be happy. I have pretzels in my room but I don’t feel like eating them. I should have bought a protein bar when I was at Walgreens today.

Suicide and other things

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

I have so much going on in my head tonight that it’s making it hard to sleep. My sister called me a girl tonight and it really hurt me. I thought she understood about the transgender stuff but I guess not. I didn’t correct her. I was too ashamed. It set me off in a suicidal space. I just keep thinking about how I should be dead. I came really close to killing myself the other night. I know I didn’t attempt to do it but I really wanted to. And it was scary to me that I could have done it. Hell I can do it now but I don’t know what is stopping me.

I canceled therapy for the week. I just can’t bear to talk about this with anyone, except my blog. She called me man when she told me she was giving me the okay to cancel. She said under the “new approach” I don’t have to have a reason to cancel. I want to cancel next week but I think that will be pushing it. I just don’t feel like I am being effective in therapy anymore. We talk about stuff but I feel like it’s not enough. I still get depressed. I am still suicidal. I just don’t want to be anymore.

It’s hard when you are in the wrong body. I know I haven’t talked about this in a while. Mostly because it hasn’t really bothered me. But tonight when I got a message from my sister, it hurt. I will never be seen as the man my mind thinks I am. I know I will feel better when I get my haircut. Right now I feel like I am a chia pet as my hair is all over the place. When I see my psychiatrist today, I am going to ask her if she thinks I am a guy or a girl. I need her input because her opinion means so much to me.

I keep thinking about suicide. I try not to but it’s back and it’s there and there isn’t nothing I can do to stop the thoughts. I know there are hotlines I can call or text to talk about it but I am tired of seeking help. I just want to die. I can’t stand myself anymore. I am tired of being called “daughter” and “sister” and “miss”. It’s just so not me.

There is a conference going on in Chicago right now. I want to be there because it’s always loaded with information about suicide prevention and it always helps me feel better because it gives me hope. It helps me to realize that there are others like me who is interest in the study of suicide. Though I have a different agenda. I use the information to either affirm that I should be dead or use the information to help me get better. Like CAMS is a useful tool. I use it in my therapy and it has helped me over and over again. If I didn’t belong to the organization, I never would have known about this framework and I probably would be dead. Course, at the rate things have been going, I could still be headed toward pushing up daisies. Just use me as fertilizer. I am good for nothing else.

Hope is a tricky thing. It can either make you or break you. I have been increasingly hopeless this past week. I have been trying to hold on to it but it’s so slippery and keeps slipping through my fingers. It’s like a bar of soap when you shower. Now matter how much you try to grab it, it still falls to the floor. You know it’s there but you just can’t hold on to it. And it just increases your depression.

cement shoes

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

Cement shoes

I was wearing sneakers but you wouldn’t know it. My feet felt like they were in cement blocks as I trudged my way down to the bus stop. I really didn’t feel like going out but I wanted a latte and I figure going out was better than making coffee at home. I wasn’t expecting my sneakers to change to cement blocks though. Each step took a lot of effort. I was exhausted by the time I reached the stop. I am glad they have a bench so I could sit down and rest.

The depression takes many forms with me. It is never the same with each episode I experience. Sometimes I am walking through mud. Other times I have cement shoes on my feet. Each step is always painful whether it be mud or cement. I just can’t get through to my head that there is a clear path and that there is nothing physically there to slow me down. The physical symptoms of depression doesn’t care. It holds you back when you want to move forward, all the damn time.

Recently, a Twitter friend said that I should keep fighting. I don’t think she realizes just how exhausting that is. It is so much easier to give up. To stay in bed until the sun rises again, when the black dog disappears. But you have responsibilities and that keeps you from staying in bed all day. Appointments must be kept. Prescriptions must be filled. It’s hard, it’s really hard to go on when you feel like this.

Feeling hopeless is the worse. I wasn’t feeling this when the depression started. This episode started two months ago and I lost my appetite as well as my thought speed. My thoughts became slow as molasses. It’s still hard to get the words out at times. I lost weight because I wasn’t eating. I felt tired all the time. I felt down a lot of the time. But I still did what I had to do rather than stay cooped up in bed like I would have loved to do. Now that my appetite is back, I am beginning to feel like this depression is not going to end, that it is going to stay around and I am forever in its grip. I feel hopeless that things are going to get better again. Part of me knows that it will. It just takes time. I have been put on medication that should help relieve some of this suffering but I still don’t know. I have to wait two weeks for this medication to work and I am overwhelmed by this because I can’t even think of tomorrow or the next day.

I have to just think of the present time. It’s the only way to get through the day. If I can get through this minute, that hour, I will be okay. But it’s hard. I am still not eating 100% of the time. I have to remind myself to eat. I have broken the “no food in my room” rule. I had to because pain keeps me from going downstairs to get food when I need it so I keep some pretzels near me to offset hunger. It might not be the best food in the world but it’s something. And something is better than nothing. If I didn’t have to worry about mice, I would bring some of my chocolate granola bars in my room. Those are good for hunger. The reason I have a hard time going down the stairs is because of pain in my ankle and foot due to a condition known as complex regional pain syndrome. I have been living with this condition for the past four years. It’s difficult when you can’t walk and walking is your main mode of transportation. I don’t own a car so I don’t drive that often. I used to be able to borrow my sister’s car but she traded it in for a monster truck and I just can’t drive it for fear of sideswiping another vehicle or something else.

The cement shoes have come on in the last two days. I don’t know when they will come off. I hate wearing them when in fact, I have sneakers on. The cement is so heavy. I feel so weighed down with them on. It’s like I can’t move. It’s so painful. You are exhausted by the time you reach your destination, which is only a few short blocks from your house.

The exhaustion from the depression has to be worse than a physical illness or about the same, depending on who you talk to. It really sucks because you might have energy before you get dressed and then when you are finished showering and putting on your clean clothes, you are wiped out. It sucks more when you are in physical pain as well. I don’t know what is worse at this point. Dealing with my chronic pain in my ankle or the depression. Maybe it’s both. I just need to find a chisel and a hammer to try and escape from these cement shoes. They are no fun.