Tag: mental illness

random 654

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

The shipping box for my new laptop came today. Now I just have to drop it off at FedEx to ship it. This will give me a chance to go to my old Starbucks hang out in Wellington. I hope that I can take my sister’s car tonight to drop it off, otherwise it will have to be tomorrow morning.

So far my day is going ok despite my allergies flaring up. I have had two sneeze attacks since getting up at noon. I woke up at three-thirty in the morning and fell asleep around six. I slept for about six hours. But I was productive during the early morning hours. I got to work on my book (nothing triggering) and came up with at least six pages. I am excited because this line of writing will be at least fifteen or so pages, if I am able to keep it up.

I am feeling less depressed than I was yesterday. I have more energy and I hope this isn’t a crash before a fall. I still am worried that I am going to lose my data on my laptop. But seeing that I have what I need, my blogs and book, I am not so worried. I have my music on my phone that I can always back up and Amazon has all my music is on cloud. The rest of the music is on CDs (actual CDs not CDRs) so I can always make copies of those to put it back on my phone if need be. It is weird working on my old laptop. I forgot how different the keyboard is. I am just hoping that I don’t have any more blue screens of death or that my monitor screen get funky.

This week is National Suicide prevention week. I think there was a chat on twitter about it that AFSP and Mayo clinic were holding. I wanted to see what it was about but I missed it. I don’t usually say anything, unless they discuss treatment options. Then I will put in my two cents about Jobes’s CAMS and the Aeschi model. More clinicians need to be aware of these two similar modes of therapy if they ever want to get the suicide rates down. Course the biggest hurdle is actually getting the person the help he/she needs before they act. I know it wasn’t easy for me to reach out and get the help I needed in the beginning. It took me several calls to Samaritans before I ever saw my first therapist. And I only saw a therapist after I tried to kill myself because I felt like no one would believe me otherwise. I was an intelligent teen and didn’t seem to have any behavior problems so I just felt like they wouldn’t believe me. I felt that if I cut my wrist, it would give me more creditability. After all, my own mother didn’t believe me when I told her I was suicidal. And it took the school nurse to convince her that I needed help.

There were no anti-suicide campaigns at my high school, least none that I recall. I know now they have a counseling center as well as a health center at the school, thanks in part to the movies they have made around the school and other donations. I don’t know how I got through high school as I was extremely depressed and suicidal. But I guess part of it is the connection I made with the school nurse. After I had my problems, I saw her nearly every day just to say hi and chat for a few minutes. I think those chats were the most helpful.

While I was up in the wee hours of the morning writing, I was also reading a little bit in the Comprehensive Textbook of Suicidology. I wanted to see if they had anything about “suicide careers” by Ronald Maris. And to my surprise it did. I don’t know why I wrote this book off. It also has Shneidman’s ten commonalities of suicide. I also included that in my chapter that I am writing. I think I will make what I am writing a blog post. It will be long as already it is almost seven pages or I could just write about it separately. I haven’t decided yet what I am going to do. But I am glad that I don’t have to go searching for “pathway to suicide” by Maris to find the definition of “suicide career”. The way he defines it, is a lifelong depressing road that ultimately leads to completed suicide. In the book, he uses Sylvia Plath as an example.

In finding this little tidbit of information, I feel energized to continue writing a book that talks about the newer age treatment of suicide rather than the old. I talk about my experiences and hope that one day someone will read my book and not feel so alone. Maybe they will have attempting, maybe they have been thinking about it. I will never know.

all i feel is down

by Midnight Demon, posted in depression

I can’t stand people this morning. Last night I wrote my FB status that I was depressed. Instead of getting supportive responses, I basically got the cheer up kind, like I had nothing to be sad about bullshit. This morning I got another bought of “stop thinking” that way. Like I have a fucking choice. I feel wicked depressed and I don’t know why. People that don’t have depression have no clue what it is like. You try and make it through the day without trying to kill yourself. But it’s hard to do when you feel you are dead yourself. I feel like there is an envelope enveloping me and I can’t breathe.

I need to take a shower today but I don’t want to. I don’t want to do anything. I just want to stay in bed all day. I do want coffee so I haven’t worked out the logistics to get that. If my sister is home and I take a shower I might get her car and go to Starbucks. If not, I guess I will just have coffee from the Keurig. I finally got the half and half to have coffee at home.

I don’t know why I am so depressed. I know part of it is because my laptop is broken and I am worried that it might not be able to get fixed and I will lose what is on there. Another part is that it is the end of summer where I usually get depressed anyways, though it usually isn’t until the middle of October. It’s the cycle for me. I get this low level depression and then it creeps into a major depression. It’s always the case this time of year. I didn’t ask for it to come around. I just feel so blue.

I am supposed to meet up with my friend today. I told him I would call him after 2 as I know he goes to the gym and is done sometime after that. I really don’t want to see a movie. I just want to get some coffee and talk. I am not a movie goer. I will go if there is something that I want to see but for the most part, I just don’t like going to the movies. I don’t know if it is because of the price or because of the loudness of the theater, but I just don’t like movies. I rather read the book.

Star Trek is coming out soon so I might watch it on my cable. That is something that I do want to see. But it’s nice to watch something at home versus going out. I know it’s not the same but at least I am not paying fifteen dollars for a ticket!

I just woke up and other than getting together with my friend, I have no other plans for the day. I don’t even plan on writing anything for my book because my psychiatrist wants me to take a break and that is what I am doing. I need to clear my head a little bit before I can continue. I hate doing it because it is taking away my goal but my health is more important. Won’t do me any good if I end up in the hospital.

I haven’t had any urges to self-harm in almost 24 hours. I am hoping they stay away but they could come back if I am triggered again. I had thoughts of what I wanted to write but they have left me now. I should have jotted them down when I had a chance.

I am re-reading Darkness Visible by William Styron. It’s a really good book. I started quoting some of his stuff on twitter that I thought was good. I will place some of the quote on my quotes page. Here is a guy that was on the brink of suicide and yet got help. I give him credit for doing it. Not many men will admit they have a problem and get the help they need. That is why stigma is so dangerous. It can kill someone because they don’t want to get help for fear of being downcast. Just like my friends, who are trying to be helpful, are just making me feel like I am a loser or I should be better than that. But I can’t help the way I feel. And right now all I feel is down.

And what is truly depressing is I have used my last k-cup of tribute blend 😦

loss of self

by Midnight Demon, posted in cauda equina syndrome, chronic physical pain, depression

Today I broached the subject of grief with my therapist. She hasn’t received her packet of letters that describes my grief and how I think I should address it. I couldn’t bring myself to tell her that I think the reason for my craziness the last few months has to do with my grief and not dealing with it. Course, I didn’t think much of it until I asked if grief can cause psychosis. Then I just shut down. And thank god, it was the end of session. She wanted to see me tomorrow but I told her Tuesday was fine. It will give me more time to think about how to approach this.

She encouraged me to write about this stuff and how I am thinking about it but I don’t know how. Just thinking about my losses just makes me extremely sad. It’s like knocking the wind out of me. I mean, I used to be able to work two friggen jobs and now I can’t even work one. I was stable enough to work in one job for fourteen years and then I messed it up because my foot got messed up. I don’t know if I could work again at the same job. I would like to. But I can’t be all running around like I used to. Thing is, being a lab assistant, you sometimes have to do phlebotomy (draw blood) and I was never keen on drawing blood. Even the easiest of veins I blew and I don’t want to go back to it ever again. I was lucky my department didn’t have to do that. There was a separate department for blood draws.

It still hurts that after fourteen years of service I was just not accommodated by my job to do my job. It really hurts. I never told anyone how bad it is losing my job. Even though it has been almost a year and a half now. It also sucks I can’t do my other job of driving around Boston picking up samples because my driving record got messed up. I got a speeding ticket one morning because I was too sleepy to notice I was over the speed limit. But a State trooper noticed and I got fined. Then because I couldn’t pay the fine, my license got suspended. It took me almost a year to get it all cleared up. But it is going to take a while for me to have a “good” driving record again. And that kills me. I know it doesn’t matter now because by the time I have a car of my own again, I will be “good” again. But the fact that I can’t get a Zipcar to have some independence just kills me. I can borrow my sister’s car to go places but mostly her husband takes it and I hate driving the truck. I know I should conquer my fears and learn to get used to it but I have a peripheral defect and I am just afraid I am going to sideswipe someone or something. And I HATE backing up in the drive way because my sense is not great. Even with the car I hate it, especially when there is a car parked across my driveway.

I really have other deep losses such as the loss of myself and the loss of my abilities. Walking used to be my joy. I was able to walk long distances and think nothing of it. It never bothered me. Sometimes it did when I used to get Charlie horses if I walked too far and didn’t drink enough. But other than that, I really enjoyed walking to the train station which is about a mile away. I used to do the Walk for Hunger, which is a 20 mile walk around Boston. Haven’t done that in years but I am determined to do it one year, long as I go slow. I will have to do mega training to work up to it as right now my limit is four blocks .

Then I have the loss of my bodily functions. I never thought that at the age of 36/37 I would have to wear diapers to events that last longer than a few hours. This is because I no longer get the signals to my brain that my bladder is full. Once I am full, I start leaking excess until I do go. It isn’t until I feel wet do I ask myself the last time I went potty. The number 2’s are a different story. I can’t feel myself went I go unless my stools are hard. If you are the squeamish type, I would stop reading right now. This could be disgusting to you. If my stools are soft I don’t feel them as they move out. If I have the runs, I can quickly have an accident as I can’t hold them long, though I have been lucky the last few times in holding them in by not letting loose my farts. If I lose control of my farts, I lose control of my stool and well, you got it. A nice number 2 in the pants. It has only happened to me a few times, the worse was when I took too much fiber pills and thought I was farting but really I was shitting myself. That was a lesson learned. I usually take senna because I find that it is the only thing that makes me go without too much trouble. Too much however can cause very bad cramps and possible accidents. Every time I have an accident or have skid marks because I didn’t wipe myself well enough, I lose it. I really go into a darker place and usually want to kill myself. Same with when I have a urine accident but I am getting used to them. Having stool in my pants is a real downer. And I don’t think anyone can get used to that. It makes you feel so small. And people take it for granted that their bodies will tell them these things. My body, because of the nerve damage, no longer does. And it is a HUGE loss. Again, not something I have dealt with nor wanted to.

Then, of course, there is the loss of where I should be now had my mental illness not shut me down and forced me to stop school once again. I call this the “if onlys”, such as if only I didn’t have a psychotic breakdown in 2008, how different my life would have been. If only I went to a four year school instead of getting just my Associate’s degree I would be better off now than I was back then. If only I had decided to work part time and go to school full time would I have been better mentally than I am now. Or would the financial strain of not working been too much? Or would the strain of going to college full time really be my downfall? Either way, I can’t change any of it, but it is a HUGE loss to me not being able to go back because I fucked up. I should have just made a simple phone call to put my loans into deferment and I would have been able to go back now that I am just sitting on my ass doing nothing most days. I think me not going to back to college is the most hurtful to me because I loved my studies, didn’t matter what they were. I just loved being in academia. Psychology is really my thing. And I know I could have been a good therapist. But I don’t think those dreams are ever going to come true. Maybe if I win the lottery.

Then you take into account all the times I have been suicidal. It is a loss because I am still having to piece back my life and I don’t like it. I rather be pushing up daisies for eternity. But as past blogs have talked about, I can’t kill myself anymore than I can make a gourmet dinner. AND it hurts to go on living like this.

adequate pain relief and suicide

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

Was going through some old journals and came across an article on pain and suicide. This was the “first” study to find that moderate to severe pain caused suicide to happen. **clap, clap, clap** Tell me something I DON’T KNOW. I don’t get how they have to do a study in order for doctors and other mental health professionals to realize that any type of prolonged pain (physical or mental) is going to result in suicide. It astounds me, it really does. And the worse part is that these people are not being treated. That’s the other thing that drives suicide, untreated pain. Granted you can’t treat psychological pain like you can physical pain. There just isn’t a pill you can take to relieve psychological suffering. That is the sad part. But you can assess it. You can hear the person talk about their pain. That is all the person wants really, is to be heard.

Physical pain is ambiguous. And the study didn’t focus on any particular pain in the body. The researchers just asked have you had pain in the last four weeks and then they rated it. So there is no telling that this pain was coming from the head, back, legs, stomach, etc. Does it matter? I don’t think so. I just think that more doctors should ASK their patients if they are experiencing pain and how severe it is to them. And also ask if they are thinking about suicide because of this pain. But most doctors don’t have the TIME to ask these questions.

In the months after my psychiatric hospitalization, my doctor asked for three months if I was suicidal because of my pain or for another reason. Then, the questions stopped. He began to ask more about what was causing my pain and try and help me there. A few months ago he asked me again if I had suicidal thoughts. He then told me that he cares a lot about me and that he would miss me should I kill myself. That took me off guard. I know I have a good relationship with my doctor but do other patients have good relationships with theirs? And are the people that are prescribing narcotics regularly checking to see if their patient is at risk for suicide? My doctor has stopped asking me if the pain medication is adequate for me. Sometimes it is, other times it is not. And I think that finding an adequate pain relief regimen is key to saving a life.

I know that I am constantly complaining on my blog about my pain. But I have pain meds to control it. Even if at times it is inadequate. Do I think about suicide? Yes, I do. But I have protective factors that are preventing me from going through with my plan. And I hate these factors because I wish I could kill myself. I know that I will be missed by my blog readers, my family, my therapist and my psychiatrist. I have a sense of belongingness to these people and as much as they drive me crazy, they keep me here. So all I can do is write about my pain and hope that it helps someone to know they are not alone in their pain too.