Tag Archives: mental illness

Rambling 29 July 2018

Rambling 29 July 2018

I didn’t do much yesterday but sleep because I didn’t go to sleep till 5 am. I had a bad night of pain. I sent an email to my psych around 4 and then took an Ativan and that finally got me to sleep. I put my phone on do not disturb but set my alarm so I could take my morning meds. With the do not disturb, my app alarm doesn’t work.

Sox won. I listened to the game, though around the 7th inning, I was getting sleepy so tried to sleep. My foot decided to explode. It was hurting me before I laid down but then it really started to hurt. I took some Neurontin. It didn’t work. I put some lidocaine on, and that seemed to calm it down a bit.

My cousin was calling me a few times during the day. He gets anxious if you ignore him. I really think, after talking to him tonight, that he is paranoid. He seems to think his mother and sister want him to move out of his apartment so his other brother can live there. I don’t know. That seems kind of crazy to me. I don’t know where he will go. He says he can’t live on his own, but yet he is. He can do a lot of things I can. I told him I might have to go into assisted living if something happens to my mother. I can’t be on my own because I never know when my ankle is going to go out on me. I can’t keep up with house chores. I found that out Thursday when I tried to do six loads of laundry. It took a lot out of me.

I have some dishes in the sink but I was too tired to do them after I ate. I used my last cold brew iced tea bag today. I have it brewing in the fridge right now. It is probably done now but a few more hours won’t hurt. I like it to be strong. I think you can use regular tea bags but I think it takes longer to brew or maybe you use hot water and then cool it so you have iced tea. I have a hyperchill think I can use. It works great for coffee. I just make coffee like I do for hot and then put it in this cup with ice around the chamber and it cools the coffee without diluting it. It is really neat. Only thing that sucks is that it is small. You can only get about 12 oz of coffee. I like at least 16 oz.

I am listening to my country music. Cam posted a little vid that she performed in Mexico. She sang Diane in Spanish and OMG it was better than it was in English! It was just one part of the song and then she sang the rest in English. I was bummed. I had to listen to her song again and just let the playlist play.

Weather is supposed to be less humid today. We’ll see. Today is going to be the only day the weather is less humid. Monday is going to be yucko again. I’ll have to carry my sweat rag with me. I can’t help it. I just sweat a lot in hot weather because of my nerve condition.

I am going to try and sleep. I will write more if I can’t. Thanks for reading guys. It means a lot.

about today’s therapy session

After I wrote my blog last night, I stayed up for maybe an hour and then I crashed. I was so wiped out and knew if I fought it, I was going to get overtired and then sleep whenever. So I basically fell asleep by 2130. But fucking stupid pain woke me at 0100. Again it happened while I was dreaming to wake me up. Annoying. I had taken my pain meds so I don’t understand why I am waking up in pain. Doesn’t make sense. It was difficult to go back to sleep. Around 5, I made breakfast. I read. I laid down to try and sleep but then my fricken bones started hurting. I didn’t fall back to sleep until 0630. I took my morning meds before I tried sleeping, including my pain meds as I put the do not disturb on my phone but set my alarm for exclusion so I wouldn’t oversleep.

The damn thing went off at 10 but I didn’t want to get up. I had to sleep because I had a late therapy appointment and if I stayed up, I might be groggy by the time therapy rolled around. I didn’t want that. I took a shower and then went to my room to cool off. Then I made some cold cut sandwiches for lunch. I then left to do the errand for mother. When I was done, the bus was there so I took it, even though it wouldn’t take me to the square. I ordered my espresso got some Pike for home. Then I had my sandwich. It was good. I had brought some cookies in case I wanted something sweet but I was too full. I wrote in my journal for a bit and then left for therapy.

Therapy was good. I brought up some difficult things I wanted to discuss but wasn’t sure if he would dump me after I told him. I said so and he said there were only about 4 things that would cause him to dump me. 1) self-harm in his office, 2) injuring him, 3) destroying any of his office things, and the 4) undressing in his in office. Then asked him if he planned on undressing and he said no. Good. I really don’t want to see him naked!

We had a good chat around my suicidality. I brought up some points that my friend on Twitter brought up with the blog I wrote over the weekend. He asked why I thought it would scare him away and I said because I wasn’t sure how crazy you would think I am. He said he has extensive work in trauma so understands how things can get wonky trying to cope with it when you don’t know how to cope, basically (my words, not his). I felt better talking about this and asked what to do about it and he gave me an answer that I didn’t like, which was “this”. And I was like what, put things in a bag and then pull them out one by one? Deal with everything? Come on, man, give me some guidance! We went over the stuff little by little until time ran out. But there is no structure with how we will proceed and that kind of irks me. He said I like control and I do, to a degree. This guy really gets me and I am so glad because I can talk to him and not worry he is going to force me to go to the hospital after we talk or bind me to some safety contract before leaving. The suicidologist in me is totally freaking out about this because there should be SOME plan but there isn’t. He has said that if I want to kill myself, I am free to do so, just don’t do it in his office, basically. This is really hard to grasp when I have had 27 years of therapists that have been very strict on safety and calling for help and the what not of trying to keep me alive. Sometimes I feel like he doesn’t give a shit if I live or die, but today I got a glimpse that he does care if I do. Usually, the therapist’s care if what helps me to know if I am worth caring about. I know my psychiatrist cares. She wouldn’t nudge me and be a pain in the ass about me seeing her if she didn’t. I don’t get that way with this therapist though. If I want to cancel, it is okay where past therapists have always given me a hassle on why did I cancel like if I didn’t have a good enough reason, I couldn’t cancel the session. I tell him I can’t make it, and that is fine with him. He understands that I have a medical condition that sometimes forces me out of the game. I sometimes cannot physically make it in. I try though and I sometimes wait too long to cancel until I realize I can’t cancel because it is past the golden hour to do so.

Anyway, these are just my experiences with this therapist. I like him even though there is no structure. Just talk and see where it goes kind of deal. It kind of drives me crazy some times but it is also okay because there is no linear path of getting better. Just like my memoir. It goes forwards and backwards. I hope we do talk about what we talked about today again. I think I will have to bring it up to work on it. I just don’t see him doing that.

Busy day

Busy day

My cousin called me around noonish wanting to know if I still needed to go to Stop and Shop. I said I did. I only had to pick up a few things. My mother also wanted me to return the bottles and can for recycles. I get there and there is an elderly man that thinks he owns the place. He fended me off the first plastics machine. I just went to the cans and started putting them in. He was done with the plastics so I started putting in what I had and switched when I needed to. Then he comes over wanting to use the machine. I wouldn’t mind but there were two other machines!! He then opens the door to the bins (which were nowhere near full and left the door open. I look at the thing to see if there was something wrong with the machine and there wasn’t. I closed the door, kind of guarding my can machine so he wouldn’t get the ticket. It was hot as hell in the little room as there was no air. I was sweating bullets and was starting to get soaked. I was working as fast as I could to get the hell out of there. I collected my tickets, then went to the store.

I went to the fruit section because I wanted some watermelon. I like getting the pre-cut fruit so I don’t have to do it. Yup, I am lazy. But it was way expensive for a little container. I would be better off buying the melon and cutting it up myself (which I have no idea how to do without destroying it). I then went to the deli to get some cold cuts. I asked for a third of a pound of salami and I think I got like more than half. It was a huge pile of salami! Glad it doesn’t go bad right away. I will be having salami sandwiches for a while! I then got a little other things. I wanted some cookies so got some Chip Ahoy thins. They are okay. I’m not crazy about them. I stayed away from Oreos because I can eat the whole thing in one sitting with a glass of milk. I paid for my things and then cashed in the tickets for the cans and bottles. I got $5.40. whoohoo!

My cousin was done with his thing so took me home. I told him about the creepy elderly man. He said I should have called him. What was he going to do?? I came home and put the things away. I must have sat on my bed for at least 15 minutes when my cousin called me again. Why was his mother going to see my mother again. UM, I have no fucking clue! I called my sister and she said she was bringing my mother some food. My mother hasn’t been eating because the food sucks. I decided to go with her and the lunatic to see my mother. I haven’t seen her since last week. I didn’t wear my AFO just some sandals. I knew that was risky but it was too hot to wear socks and sneakers. I am glad I did because my mother’s room was stuffy. The AC wasn’t too powerful. I think it was cooler outside than inside!

I came home but wasn’t hungry. It was med time. I took my night meds and I am really tired. Ball game is going on and we are winning so far. Last night we won. The Snakes lost because their catcher was stupid. HAHA today they placed him on the DL. I forget what for. He isn’t a fast runner but he apparently was even slower than usual which cost them the game. I want to listen to the game but I really should try and sleep, even though it is early. I know if I don’t try, I will get overtired and then be up all night. I am already trying to plan my day tomorrow because I have to do some errands for my mother, which means leaving earlier than usual. It is also going to be hot. I need a shower and also shave my head again. I saw the pic of when I was last at the barbers. My hair was very close to my head. Now it isn’t at all. Looks like I haven’t been to the barber in months. I am trying to grow the top out. I don’t know if I can keep up the shaving once it grows out. It is already getting hard to shave in the back. I am just going by feel.

I need to wash clothes tomorrow. The hamper is getting pretty full. I hope I can manage it. I got to wash my mother’s sheets that my sister took off the bed. They have been sitting on the floor for a while. I have been meaning to throw them in the washer but I got to take off the pans that are on top of the washer. It is a pain in the ass.

What if I live?

What if I live?

Been thinking seriously of ending my life in a few weeks. I plan dates. It helps me cope knowing I have some date to look forward to so I know the misery will end. Usually this happens in a state of despair when my pain levels are high and all I can think about is death.

But the next morning, after a few hours or more of sleep, I feel differently. Some mornings I cannot believe I sunk so low. Yet usually there is some record of it—a blog or email or social media post. It brings me back, temporarily, to that place and I wonder what if I live rather than go through the plan to die?

I have few events coming up in the next few months. Something to look forward to, so to speak, yet on the nights of despair, they are far from reach, unable to be thought about. Someone said that I should write goodbye letters. I wrote one to my psychiatrist. The other 19 people on my list is a little harder. I don’t have all my ducks in a row, so to speak, to end my life like I had planned way back in March. I was supposed to die in June. It is now the middle of July and I am still here. I do’t feel that getting help would be helpful to me. I have been in therapy for 27 years, that is nearly half of my lifetime. Yet I still remain as suicidally trapped as I did when I was 15 years old and wanted to seriously end my life then.

What if I live?

I don’t know the answer to this question. I just keep going, hoping the day won’t come where I’ll say I’ve had enough and go through with my plan. I don’t want to live. I am in too much physical pain. CRPS has taken so much from me. Might as well take my life as well. I’m not worth living.

I feel like I am crying wolf too many times. I don’t think anyone believes just how serious I am this time. But even I am not 100% convinced I will end my life on the day I planned. What if I live? What if I die? What if I am rescued in time? No one knows my plan. Hell, I don’t even know it completely. I’ve been too afraid of putting it forward because that will make it more real. Do I have to end my life? I feel I have to. I feel no one cares how bad I hurt. And not one medical professional wants to see my suffering end. I’ve had enough of fighting for my care. I had to do this since I was 16. I can’t do it anymore. I’ve run out of gas. If I live, I’ll continue to suffer just so my family and friends aren’t in pain. What kind of life is that?

I’ve been pushing through trying to hang on. I know the demons will pass in the morning. Hence I live to see another day. Hence I live, least until despair grabs a hold of me once again.

What if I live?

painsomnia ramble

Painsomnia ramble

It is almost 0500. I have yet to sleep. I thought I would write to see if that would help me fall asleep. I went to have something to eat and as I turned to walk back to the stairs, my ankle gave out on me. I couldn’t bear weight on it. It was the slowest walk through the house. There was no one I could call as it was so early in the morning. Now I am in a lot of pain, more than what I was in.

I was thinking about what I wrote early in yesterday’s blog about there being a kind of “split” where you have this dark side no one knows about and then you have this side where you appear like nothing is wrong. I want to write more about it but my mind isn’t that clear. I took some Neurontin and so I am kind of cloudy. I don’t know what more to say about it because it is how I feel. Like if I unleash the dark side people will freak out and maybe force me in the hospital or something. I emailed my psychiatrist and let her know yesterday was the day I wanted to end things. I also told her about my mother’s upcoming surgery and how I had planned my death before I knew she was going to have surgery. I told her I really wish I went through with it as I was and still am in a lot of pain. I am regretting the decision to put it off. I wrote her the goodbye letter. I didn’t tell her that though. I told her that next time I will go through with it as I will not make that mistake of taking back the decision and postponing the inevitable.

In the meantime, I am supposed to live my life like it is all hunky dory and shit. Other than my online friends and a few close people, no one knows about my plan. Hell, I don’t even know if I have a plan. I haven’t checked out the location so I have no idea if that will work out. It has to be a desolate area or I am fucked. Someone sees me and the chance of rescue is great. I don’t want that. I really don’t want to be fucking saved by some stranger. That is a fear. I just wish I had a car so I can drive some place and do it there. Easy clean up too. Kind of. I don’t know. It is not like I have done this before. No one knows what my plan is. And I won’t tell anyone. I think my therapist might know but I am not sure. We haven’t talked about suicide in a long time. And we won’t. There is no point. I have made my mind and I am going to stick with it when the time comes.

I have been trying to manage this pain. I tried distraction. Playing with my phone, being on social media, though nothing is really going on at these hours. I was talking to someone about cats. But that was hours ago. I wrote some tweets. I posted some Instagram pics. I was really bored. I really screwed up my ankle. It feels like someone is trying to cut it off. Fucking pain is terrible. It going up my ankle but only half way. So fucking weird. I am just going to stay up until I pass out. I can’t sleep anyway. Every time I lay down, pain increases. I try to wait it out but after three minutes I kind of lose it and have to sit up. I had the AC on but it is cool outside. It is also 30.2 for barometric pressure, which is why my pain is all fucking whacky. Hope it settles down. I will take another Ativan in about an hour. Hope it fucking helps.