Tag: mental illness

profoundly depressed

by Midnight Demon, posted in depression, mood disorders, suicide

Profoundly depressed

I met with my pdoc today. She didn’t talk me into the hospital. I argued against the reasons why I shouldn’t be in (no help basically and just being babysat). I told her about how horrible it was last night. Last night I had the thoughts of preparing and deciding how to kill myself. The thoughts were very intrusive and very hard to distract myself from. I told my pdoc that I thought of paging her but really what was she going to do beside tell me to go to the ER. I left the appointment a little better. I have to contact her on Monday or Tuesday to let her know how I am doing. She kept looking at me oddly when she said this. I don’t know if she was trying to detect my deceptiveness or if I wasn’t telling the truth but it was weird. I told her I had no plans for the weekend. I don’t think telling her “other than killing myself” would have flown very well. I told her I might get my coffee tomorrow to get out of the house and I was just planning on staying in on Sunday, like I usually do. If they had a bus going to my Starbucks, I might go out but they don’t. Sucks relying on public transportation on the weekends because the service is so different than during the week. She seemed ok with the answer but still gave me the odd look and kept saying she wants me to keep in touch with her.

I talked to one of my good friends last night and told him I was feeling like I might go into the hospital again because I just can’t stop thinking about killing myself. All week it has been like this but I have no energy, really, of going through with the thoughts. I just feel stuck. He was supportive and of course, doesn’t want me to die. The hard part is the family piece. I can’t just say bluntly either the hospital or a casket. My family just doesn’t understand when I have to go in the hospital, especially my mother. She thinks it is not an illness after my last hospitalization. She thinks that if I just talk to her, all my problems would be solved. Trouble is, she doesn’t understand any of my problems nor understand that this is a chronic illness I have nor that I don’t want to talk to her, at all. If I can come up with a creative response to why I am in the hospital, that might be good but I am not that creative. I can’t bullshit my way out of a paper bag.

The other problem I have is packing a bag for the hospital. I usually don’t know where I end up so I have to pack as if I am going to a maximum lock down unit. Nothing that I can use to kill myself, obviously, but would be considered a sharp. If I get admitted to the hospital I was at last time, I will be ok because I can have access to my phone and cords for charging. But there is no guarantee that I will end up there and it is a long process! Not only do you have to wait to be seen in the ER but waiting for admission is longer. Last time I was admitted, I was in the ER for almost 20 hours waiting for a bed. And then it was a 4 am admit. Not kidding.

I generally dislike going to the hospital because the beds suck. It more like a cot than a bed. And admission is not long like it was. You will be lucky if you stay more than a week. It really is just a containment and babysitting service. And I don’t think being babysat is not going to help with my self-destructive thoughts. It might help me feel safer because I don’t have access to all my stuff that I can possibly use to kill myself at home. If I do get admitted for possibly two weeks, I will be screwed on discharge because my therapist and psychiatrist are on vacation the following week. Which means I will not have follow up care for two weeks post discharge. Not a good thing when you get out of the hospital. And I don’t know if they will keep me longer because I won’t have follow up care post discharge. Some times, they will keep you longer because you don’t have a close enough follow up appointment. And seeing as I am chronically suicidal, they generally don’t like a far away follow up appointment.

I don’t know what to do. I think I should be in the hospital but the issues of getting there are always a pain in the ass. Maybe I will feel better by Monday and the depression will lift some. Doubt it but it could happen.

Suicide is painless

by Midnight Demon, posted in depression, suicide, suicide attempt

Suicide is painless

I wish that statement were true. It would make my suicide planning that much easier. I have decided to end things this weekend. I don’t know if I will go through with it or if my pesky therapist will intervene and have me hospitalized. She is going to call my pdoc and tell her I am suicidal. I have been upfront with my pdoc all week. She knows the ups and downs I have been having. But she doesn’t know that this weekend will hopefully be my last. I am tired of living in pain.

I am thinking of all that I have to do. I need to write letters and leave instructions. I hope to mail out the books for my review. Kind of sad that I wrote a book about being an attempt survivor and then I kill myself. But I can’t worry about that now. I have decided to let my friend be the person to do the informing. To call my therapist and let her know I am gone. I tried telling her that today but she was so stubborn she didn’t want to hear it. Idiot. I will leave notes for my family. I know it is going to be rough for them. But I am tired of suffering all the time. I am tired of being suicidal and not acting on it. I just hope I can fool my pdoc Friday enough to get by so that I can do the deed this weekend.

I am so in the pit of depression, the familiar abyss. I still haven’t decided on a method to end my life. That is one of the problems with depression, you can’t decide things easily when you are faced with many choices.

I hope to be cremated as that is the cheapest and I want my ashes spread over my childhood place where all my thoughts went by Chelsea Creek. I hope my family carries out my wishes.

My therapist and pdoc are not to blame for this. I am a hopeless case. I am worthless and meaningless. It bothers me that I have known these people for more than a decade and I still am suicidal. I haven’t changed, I guess. Once you are suicidal, you always will be suicidal.

A cousin of mine from Virginia sent me an email today. He said he couldn’t understand why I think about suicide. And in response to that, I can’t think of why he values life. I just don’t understand why people want to live. There were two suicides today. One on the East coast and one on the West coast. The east coast had a jumper from a bridge. The west coast had a person who jumped in front of a train. I am sure there were other suicides today but those are the ones I know I about. Two random people lost their lives today and I am happy for them because I know they are no longer suffering. And soon, I won’t be suffering neither.

Therapy and Coffee

by Midnight Demon, posted in blogging, depression, mood disorders, suicide

18-July-14

Coffee and therapy

Last night I read blogs about how a therapist lost a patient to suicide and how he got through it, two years later. It started to get me thinking about my journey with my therapist. Though this isn’t a linear story and is not about what went on in therapy, it is a story about how coffee brought me closer to my therapist and formed a bond that we didn’t know about at the time.

I was not always a Starbucks coffee drinker. Like many Bostonians, Dunkin Donuts coffee was sufficient. But once you have experienced a full bodied coffee, you can never go back to their coffee. My therapist’s office had an Au Buon Pain French bakery across the street. They sell great coffee. After having their coffee, I really couldn’t go back to Dunkin. I started drinking their coffee and found that I like it much better than Dunkin, even if it cost a little more.

A funny story about the Au Buon Pain coffee. Usually by mid-session I would be finished with my coffee and I would play with the cup, mainly playing with the protective sleeve by picking at the corners. During one session, it was getting intense, and I was playing with the empty cup. Some how the lid flew off in the direction of my therapist sitting across from me. We both laughed at the symbolism and meaning of with this lid. But I guess the lid meant more to her as she kept the it after session that day. It was just a plastic coffee lid to me but she found a treasured object. When we started exchanging gifts sometimes after my 30th birthday (my birthday falls near Christmas), I received the lid back with a corny message. She had placed it in a picture frame and on the back was the message. I am unable to find this frame at this time and I don’t remember what the lid said. I just laughed.

I have a sensitive stomach so it wasn’t too long before my gastritis would act up over my one cup of coffee a day. I think it was around this time that I switched to Starbucks. I figured I couldn’t go wrong with espresso diluted with milk. At first, I couldn’t tolerate the switch as it has been forever since I had a glass of milk. But after a while I got used to it and I am now a full time Starbucks junkie.

It didn’t matter what office we were at, there was always a Starbucks I could find. I swear I have an internal GPS Starbucks locator in my brain. When she first moved to Framingham, 30 miles from her Cambridge location, she said there weren’t any Starbucks nearby. I found two within two miles of her office. I would always have my mocha during sessions. During one session, the lid came off again and this time I spilled my drink on her fancy rug. I felt so bad. Starbucks had changed their covers to flimsy plastic and it didn’t fit right on the cup. This time, my therapist didn’t keep the lid.

I think I have consumed more Starbucks coffee over the years than any other establishment in my area. I now make their coffee at home, which further debilitates my staying in the house. But then, I will only drink Starbucks coffee. Occasionally and in a pinch, I will have Dunkins or Au Buon Pain or even the local convenient store coffee. I still have remained a loyal customer even though the price of their coffee has gone up over the years. I used to solely drink their espresso drinks, but since they out with the Clover system, which makes one cup of coffee at a time, I have gone back to coffee. It is cheaper than the espresso drinks. I have yet to try espresso by itself, however.

Through all the coffee consumption, I still have the same therapist. She has been with me for the past 13+ years. Next month will be technically our 14th year. I say technically because I had my first session with her in 2000 but because she didn’t take my insurance at the time, I couldn’t see her. When I changed my insurance the following year, I called her up and was happy to find that she still was accepting new clients.

Her vacation this year will be welcome. I need a break from her. It’s not that she is doing anything wrong, it’s just that I need some space. I know that I’ll probably write her letters while she is gone. I have always written her letters to say what I cannot talk about. Mostly I write to vent and then I forget what I write. They (researchers) says it’s a cathartic response. And most of what I write is cathartic. Of the more than 700 blogs I have written over the last two years since starting my blog, the only ones I specifically remember are the papers I have posted. The rest I may remember from a tag or title but sometimes, I have found, the title isn’t what the blog is about.

My therapist started her practice at the middle of Mass Ave in Cambridge. She moved down the street several times until her final destination was 30 miles away. Each move, I went with her. She could have stopped seeing me at any point in the consolidation of her practices, as she called it. Course it was very difficult when her final destination was Framingham. I don’t have a car so we communicate mostly by phone. I try to get my sister’s car at least once a month to visit her but it sometimes doesn’t work out because of my pain levels. And usually, I will get a coffee before starting the trip. It’s anywhere from 45 mins to an hour and a half from where I live to her office. It all depends on the traffic. And which route I go. I mostly go one route that is through several towns rather than go the direct route, which is the highway. The highway would be faster but I have had one too many tire blow outs and I am just too afraid now to go that way. It has traumatized me to the point I will only go if I have a very reliable car. My last tire blow out, I thought I was going to get killed because I was stuck in the middle of the road and a semi was coming in hot after me. Since that day I only use that highway only if I absolutely have to.

As much as my therapist is a “PITA” (Pain In The Ass), she is also stubborn. We will butt heads frequently about sessions to my safety. Since she calls me a suicidologist, I have often brought in tools to help with the suicidal thoughts and ideation. Before then, we just used with the “no harm contracts” which suck. Now we use a Crisis response plan. See this blog to find out more about it. It’s good I see a stubborn therapist. The only thing I hate is that she NEVER allows me to cancel a session anymore. I used to be able to cancel whenever I didn’t feel like going in. Those days are long gone. If I cancel due to a legit reason, say my father’s doctor appointment, I need to reschedule. We always meet twice a week. Very rarely do I see her once a week, though when my suicidality, peaks it could be three time a week.

There was one session I really didn’t want to see her. She called me and asked where I was and I told her I was home. This is after I canceled our session. She bribed me with a mocha to come to her office. Who does that?

Daily living activities and pain

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

Daily living activities and pain

I made dinner tonight. Nothing extravagant. Just boiled some potatoes for potato salad and my mother made grilled cheese. The whole peeling the potatoes killed me even though I was sitting down while I peeled them. My foot just couldn’t take the pressure on the floor I guess. I must have stood maybe ten minutes to get the potatoes in a bowl and cool them off some so we could eat them. I made potato salad with vinegar as they were too hot for the traditional mayonnaise. I will make them tomorrow as we still have some potatoes left over.

I am in so much pain from doing a little cooking. I made myself breakfast this morning and it wasn’t as bad as it is right now. I can’t believe that just standing for a about 10-15 minutes caused my pain levels to explode. Granted I am not supposed to be doing any of this. I am supposed to be resting to get my swelling down but I just can’t stay in bed all day. I am really bummed out that doing something simple hurt me so bad. I was going to take a shower today but that is off the list.

I am supposed to go to the pharmacy tomorrow to drop off my prescription for my pain meds. I have no fucking idea how I am supposed to walk there when I am in this much pain. My sister has a graduation party to go to so it’s not like I can borrow her car or have her drive me. I am so doped up it’s probably good that I am not behind the wheel. I am going to have to force myself to walk the three blocks to the pharmacy tomorrow. I am not looking forward to it because I know I am going to be hurting. I might as well stay and wait to have it filled as I don’t want to pick up the script the next day. I will just be in the same position as I am in now. I still have to walk the three blocks either way.

My cousin called me today and pissed me off. He asked where have I been and said he left a message the other day. That is bullshit because I don’t have a call from him. I checked my phone log and the last time he called me was last week. I hate liars. Then he said maybe I didn’t get the message. That really ticked me off. I quickly got off the phone with him as I said I wasn’t in the mood to talk. But he would let me off the phone without knowing why I was so pissed off. UGH. I don’t know why I answered the phone to begin with!!

I finally got the number for the junk car company to remove my car in the driveway. Now I just have to make the call. LOL I was talking with my writing partner about this. My family has been hounding me to get rid of the car. I don’t know why. It’s not like it’s bothering anyone. But they just do it to annoy me. My sister even volunteered to call for me. But I got mad and said I would call, don’t be rushing me. I stormed out of the house and went back to my room. I have been in a lousy mood and it’s hard to call people when you are hurting. My family just doesn’t understand how much energy it take just for me to go down the stairs to pee. I hate being like this but this is what my life has become. I can’t do simple things anymore. I am just too depressed and overwhelmed. My family thinks it’s because I am lazy but I am not. I just am too overwhelmed with stuff. And I hate talking on the phone. I get worried that I might not get a good deal for the car and I will get screwed. One place already tried to get me at a lower price than what is advertised in the paper. I will call tomorrow. I have the paper by my bed and hopefully by noon, I will call one of the three numbers and see what I can get for the car.

I know my sister wants some money from me because she cleaned out the car. I didn’t ask her, she just did it on her own. It was nice of her to do it but I hate that she now wants money for it. No good deed goes unpunished, I guess.

I am really worried about one of my blogger friends. She is going through a rough time. I wish I could help her but she is across the country, on the west coast of the US. We chat usually late at night if I am up but my late at night is early evening for her. We have a three hour difference in time so it’s sometimes hard to arrange a chat. I just hope she gets through whatever she is going through without harming herself. She is talking about going back to the hospital as a defeat and I wish she didn’t think of it as that. She needs help and the hospital is there to help her. I think that is part of the stigma of having mental illness. People that are frequent visitors of the hospital take it as a personal setback of some kind when it shouldn’t be viewed as such. It’s reaching out and admitting you need help and that takes more courage than anything. I used to think like her but I realized that my life is complicated and I have severe mental illness. It requires me to be in the hospital time and time again. There might be some shame in that but it really needs to end if we are to end the stigma around mental illness.

I know a blogger/twitter person that instead of calling it mental illness, she calls it for mental health. To me, that is different. People who are mentally healthy don’t end up in the hospital a few times a year or take psych medication on a daily basis. They don’t struggle with their illness every day, be it bipolar, depression, or schizophrenia. It pisses me off when people try and pawn off one thing for something else. Yes, I would like to be mentally healthy but that is never going to happen and I am not being pessimistic. That is reality.