Tag: hopelessness

Did it Again

by Midnight Demon, posted in blogging, chronic physical pain, depression, suicide, transgender

Did it Again

Just got off the phone with a good friend of mine. We were talking and I came very close to telling him that I was trans but something stopped me. Then I go on Facebook and lo and behold I find out that Obama has appointed the first transgender woman to some position. I got thinking, where the hell are the trans men? Am I the only one coming out? Should I stay in the closet, so to speak? I am getting so fucking bullshit about this that the suicidal impulses are at an all time high right now. I still think killing myself is the way to go. I will die as a woman, which is what everyone thinks I am anyway so who is going to know?

I just feel like I am wasting my time thinking about ending my life. I know that I probably am not going to go through with it, but I just need it to be there. But here I go again, stuck in the pain and darkness at an hour that isn’t convenient to talk to anyone about how I am feeling so I am writing this stupid blog. Not that I would call anyone. I hate talking to people on the phone, except for my goofy therapist. I haven’t taken my meds yet for the night. I took some trilafon because my thoughts were getting out of hand. The cousin that I saw earlier today called while I was talking to my friend. Figures. I knew he was going to call me tonight. He wants me to call him but it’s too late and he just wants to talk bullshit things. I am tired of bullshit. I can never talk to him when I am like this. He just doesn’t understand or want to deal with the darkness I deal with. No one does.

I know things will be better in the morning, they usually are. But this agitation is unreal right now. I hate feeling this way. I know pain is going to hit sometime soon so I have taken my pain meds in anticipation. My foot is already swollen so its just a matter of fucking time. I was telling my friend about this and of course, all he said was wow. He got it though. He has a medical background. He couldn’t believe I was disabled but he understands. I don’t know why I am so aggravated. I hate being who I am right now. I realized tonight that if I didn’t have breasts, I would be called a man but people don’t look at your face anymore, they just look at your chest to determine gender. It’s sickening. I hate being this way. And if I have to live like this for much longer, I know I will end up in the grave. I was reading today somewhere that suicide isn’t a destiny. Apparently they don’t know me. They also said that people just want their pain to end. Yes, that would be nice but I still will have to deal with the depression, the physical pain, the mental pain, the disability, the you name its. Who wants to live that way? I don’t. I have had enough. So the plan that I put off is not back on the table. Maybe it will be off the table by morning but I doubt it. I want to be something I am not and it’s killing me slowly, every day.

bored to tears

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

Tonight my mother will be making fish. I saw the heads and tails were still on them. I won’t be eating that tonight, because ewww. I know that is how they come but her having to dissect them just freaks me out. And it is tilapia, which I don’t particularly like anyways. It’s a very thin fish that just doesn’t taste very good after it’s been thawed out. I’d rather have cod or haddock.

I have been pretty bored today. And my foot is a jerk. Just when I wanted to take a shower to go out, it starts hurting really bad. All I did was move it a little bit and it explodes in pain. I had to wait for pain meds to calm it down some so I could shower. By the time I was done showering, my hip went on strike. I give up. I guess I am not going to go to Walgreens to see if they have the new Oreos S’Mores cookies. I will try again tomorrow.

I was looking for a photo mailer to mail a pic for a friend. I have been meaning to send it to him and I just came across it. I failed to find it, which is why I wanted to go to Walgreens, too. I need a couple of mailers as I have some stuff to send out. Why must pain always dictate what I do? It totally sucks. And seeing that I am incapacitated, I decided to write a review for a research article I came across while looking for the mailer. I must have at least three copies, if not more, of this article. I thought it was a good idea but then the pain meds turned my brain to mush. Now I can barely write this blog. I am kind of blunted in my thinking patterns. It also doesn’t help that my vision seems to be impaired. I have been having a hard time focusing today for some reason. I really think it is because I have been solely using single vision lenses for the past month and not my progressive glasses. I can’t wait till next week when I can order them. I really hope that they can make the lenses out of the existing frames that I have. I really don’t want to buy another set of frames. I have too many old pairs of glasses laying around my room. I am also hoping that if the glasses don’t cost me that much, I can get a new phone. My phone keeps acting up and it’s pissing me off. Yesterday my therapist was calling and it took four rings for the stupid call answer button to come on. I am just glad it didn’t go to voicemail by then. Usually the call answer button comes on before the number even registers but this time it was the reverse. I am so done with this phone. And if I can’t use it as a fricken phone, what is the point of it?? My therapist was kind of in distress last night. She doesn’t know what she did, but she erased all my text messages that I sent her. She was literally panicking when we were talking about it. I kept telling her it was ok, that I am sure it’s there but hidden some how. After we talked, I sent her a text of my latest short story. She said it was the only text from me. OOPS. I think she needs another phone, too, but that will give her super anxiety. I find it funny and I do laugh. She is just so anti-technology, I just don’t get it. I mean, I use my phone for emails, texts, Twitter, Facebook, and the main thing, a phone. She just uses it for texts and phone.

I am going to write the review for that article. It will be another blog post and I will share it with my therapist friends on Twitter. I haven’t written a review in some time and it will give me something to do. I have written about this article in other papers that I have written, but never solely on this material.

I thought about editing the blog I wrote the other day but didn’t. It just seems like I don’t have the brain power to get my thoughts coherent enough to put on paper. And it’s very hard to write when you have a foot that explodes just because it feels like it. Also sucks when you stand up and your hip decides to go wonky. I hate being in pain all the time, every single fucking day. It just takes so much out of me and I end up doing nothing. Then I am bored to tears. I just want to give up. Just take my life and end things so that I won’t be suffering anymore. Because me not even being able to write because my brain turns to mush due to the medications I have to take to control my pain, just sucks.

Brick Walls

by Midnight Demon, posted in Bipolar Disorder, blogging, depression, mental disorders, mental illness, mood disorders, psychache, suicidality

7-Aug-14 Brick Walls

I am currently on a psychiatric unit in a hospital. I’ve been here for a week now, with no hope of getting out anytime soon. I am here because I am profoundly suicidal. All I see are brick walls surrounding me and they keep on closing in on me. It’s like a prison that only I can see. I am surrounded by these bricks and no one cares how high they get. And they certainly don’t care how they got there.

I want to take my life because I am stuck, just like these brick walls. The cement has hardened each brick into place so you cannot move it. My thoughts of suicide have also hardened to the point where they don’t budge. I feel very hopeless that this hospitalization will not help detach one of these bricks so that I make break free of the confinement I feel. If enough bricks fall, I may see the light at the end of the tunnel. But I doubt that will happen. I never see the light for long. I am always in a dark place. I am always feeling hopeless. And hopelessness and suicidal thoughts are not a good combination. They seal the cement and lock me in to this confinement that I am in.

The doctor and staff are trying their best to keep hope alive for me, but I just don’t see it. All I see is the brick wall that is impenetrable. Nothing or nobody can get through it or to me. It will take more than a jack hammer or two to get through to me right now. And it seems that no one owns one. The staff is too busy to care about the bricks. They just want the cement to fall to force me to see the light as the bricks become loose. Just so they can discharge me. They don’t care how the bricks were formed. And this hurts because no one takes the time to see how much I am hurting like they used to.

I have been trying to stay in the moment but my moments are just filled with suicidal thoughts and feelings. They are also filled with plans on how to end my life. Each thought makes the brick wall stronger so no one can breakthrough. Each brick has been mounted with feelings of inadequacy, shame, indignity, depression, hopelessness, worthlessness, and unbearable pain. Pain is the biggest brick. It lies in the center surrounded by the other bricks that I just mentioned. It exceeds all others in thickness and size. It is killing me, literally and physically, to be in unbearable pain all the time. The pain stems from just left of the sternum of the chest wall and captivates the entire left side of the chest cavity. It is a pressure felt day in and day out. In essence, it is like a ton of bricks weighing on my heart.

As the cement hardens around the brick, making it so difficult to breathe, the pressure on the chest increases. No medical tests exists to identify this weight. It’s not visibly present. That makes it difficult to explain without the feeling of sounding crazy. Who is going to believe a suicidal person that there is a weight on the chest when no one can see or feel it? It is not measured by tests or electrocardiograms. It is just a heaviness that fills your soul. And the soul cannot be seen or felt. Nor can it be measured. No one’s pain is the same. Each is unique to that individual. And my pain is what is strangling me in this moment of time.

The pain is always present in times of despair. It ruins any hope one might have and increases the weight of the bricks bearing down on you. Nothing alleviates this pain. There are no pills that can ease the pressure or painful despair. It’s ever present and deepens the despair because no one understands it. All the symptoms of depression and suicidal thinking makes it very difficult to treat. And the longer it lasts, the higher the brick wall is built. Will the doctors and social workers have what it takes to help bring down the brick and mortar? Very unlikely. They don’t have the time to really get to know me, much less help me. I have resigned myself to stay within these brick walls until they envelope me so I can no longer breathe. Each day they move closer, causing me to feel more isolated and the feeling of suffocation grows stronger. Love doesn’t have any effect on these walls that have surrounded my heart. My heart has become stone a long time ago. Only negative feelings are allowed to pass through. I have given up on positive feelings ever passing through my little barricade. It took years for the brick wall to be built. It might take years to be torn down. But the suicide demons won’t allow that. This time the brick walls will win. I no longer have the energy to chisel my way out of my own prison. But then, I am in a psych ward where chisels are not allowed. You just expected to go to groups to cope with the demons rather than allow them to fall.

And because no one knows the depth of my prison, I am here for a long time, in solitary confinement. The walls are dark and gray, just the way that I feel inside. I doubt I would ever get parole from this darkness that fills my soul. If I do, it is only for a short time before I am back in solitary. The light barely has a chance to touch me before everything becomes dark again. That is why I don’t trust happiness or feeling good. I much rather be content about things than feel happiness. Happiness, to me, is a fleeting emotion that is hard to hold onto. It is slippery like silk, never lasting more than a few minutes and devastating when it leaves you.

So I sit here in my room, surrounded by darkness so the sunlight won’t come in, staring at the brick wall and it staring back, trapped in my own prison.

Sunday Dinner

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

My sisters invited me to have Sunday dinner downstairs. I obliged. It was good food and laughs. After eating, I cleared the plates and then went upstairs again. My ankle was acting up and I wanted to put it up like I have it now. It sucks that I still can’t do stairs like I used to.

For the umpteenth time, I didn’t sleep well last night. I woke up in the early morning hours and then some how fell back to sleep around 7 or 8. I probably would have slept longer but my father called me, waking me up. I didn’t answer the first time, so of course, he called a second time. When I didn’t pick up (I really didn’t want to talk to him), my sister started calling me. That was it. I was up. I called him to find out what the hell was going on. He said he had a doctor’s appointment tomorrow. I told him he doesn’t as I canceled it. He asked why and I said because my foot hurts. It was a small lie. I really canceled it because they would be removing his mole and I would have to change his bandage every day until it healed. Fuck that. I wasn’t going to go over there every day, not when my suicidality is up. He would drive me to drink and then I would be in worse shape. I really despise my father and any time I have to deal with him is a hassle and a half.

I was on Twitter for most of the time last night and all that was talked about was the fight and the NFL draft. Boring. So I picked up a book to read, The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman. It has a good story line but feels empty, like it’s missing something. I will be giving my review after I finish reading it. I am already on chapter 4 and it is a short book. I should be done with it probably tomorrow. I had to read something. I hate not reading when I have nothing to do on the laptop anymore. I still haven’t found a game or even looked for a game on FB. It’s too soon. I also keep unfriending my gamer friends. Any time they post something, I unfriend. I feel bad doing so but we don’t know each other or have common interests other than the game we played. And now that I am not playing anything, why bother being friends. We don’t interact or talk. There have been some that do and those people I will keep as friends, but the others are going.

Baseball doesn’t start till late tonight. Game is either on Fox or ESPN, most likely ESPN and I hate watching games on that network. I probably will listen to the radio. I have no idea who is pitching tonight. I say the line up but for the life of me I cannot remember the pitcher. The lineup is the same as it was yesterday, only exception is that Nava is batting 7th instead of Holt. I don’t know if I am going to be up for most of the game. I am really starting to feel tired and I had my coffee later than I usually have it today because I woke up so late. I am glad I don’t have anything to do tomorrow so hopefully I will just have another day of rest. If I feel inclined to go out, I will but it all depends on how I feel and how much sleep I get.

I think I am going to take a shower tonight, before the game. It might calm down some of the pain that I am having in my foot, or at least, distract it for a while. I know I took a shower yesterday but I just feel “dirty” for some reason.

My mood has been low today. I keep wishing I was dead. I just don’t want to live anymore. Nothing makes me happy. It will be Mother’s day next week and I have no idea what to get my mother. I thought about getting her a card thanking her for all she does for me, but then she pissed me off today calling me names. The worse part is that she keeps on calling me “miss” and it is driving me nuts. I am not a “MISS”! I fricken hate my mother so why should I pretend to be nice to her for one fricken day of the year when she treats me so poorly emotionally?? It just infuriates me and makes me feel worse than what I already feel.