Tag: mental illness

ramblings 4

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

My blog had quite a lot of views and comments yesterday which made me happy for a little while but I was in a deep funk and still am in a deep funk. I don’t know why but I should stop reading about suicidal stuff because it is giving me ideas. I know I already have them in my head but I keep thinking, if I am not suicidal, then should I kill myself? As the saying goes, you should NOT kill yourself when you ARE suicidal. Mostly that is because you are thinking irrationally. But if you have been thinking irrationally for so long, does it become rational at some point? That is where my thinking is heading. I tend to think about killing myself nearly every day. I have yet to act on it for various reasons. Usually it is an in the moment type of thing but lately I have been thinking of a plan and a date. I KNOW it is because of the time of year. Every late September/early October I get seriously depressed, more so than anything. Since 2005 I have planned my death every single year without fail. I don’t know what it is about this time of year that makes me want to kill myself. I know that baseball season is over and that saddens me to no end. I no longer see pitchers on the mound and balls and strikes being called. Right now it is Postseason but I know that baseball will truly end by mid-October. Around that time is when I always think of ending my life.

I don’t know why this time of year brings me to my knees. I just don’t feel like life is worth living anymore. It is a seasonal pattern but doesn’t fit the usual SAD (Season Affective Disorder) criteria (mostly because I have recurrent depression throughout the year anyways). If it did fit, I probably would not be so crazy this time of the year. I’d get a light box and be done with it. But this is something more. I call it the black dog as I show more signs of depression than at any other time of the year. I just feel so worthless and guilty that all I can do is think about my own demise. The physical symptoms I get is more psychological pain, lethargy, fatigue, loss of pleasure and loss of interest (also known as anhedonia), loss of appetite, crying for no reason, worthlessness, guilt, etc.

I don’t know what takes me out of the black dog. Sometimes it is just perseverance, sometimes it is just means extra support from my therapist and psychopharm. I also have the hospital when it gets too much to bear, but I only use that as the last resort. Some people would say that is not right but I have had over thirty hospitalizations over the past twenty years that I know when I need to be in and when I don’t.  Though there is some literature saying that the hospital is under-utilized for suicidal patients the same can be said that it is over utilized as most clinicians do not know how to treat suicidal clients. And that bothers the hell out of me because there is (going on my Jobes soapbox) there is an assessment form easy to use and is applicable to all modes of therapy called the Suicide Status Form (see Jobes, 2009). If more clinicians used this, there would be less hospitalization and suffering and possibly less suicides. Granted my therapist tries to use this during each suicidal crisis but I wave her off. Not because I am a hypocrite, but because it was my idea and not hers mostly. Could this save my life? Possibly but the thing that bothers me is that she only uses one piece of the form. If you are going to use the form, use the whole of it. It will make your notes easier and all you have to do is have each person sign it (it is a collaborative effort on both the client and clinician parts). I love this ingenious form but I hate it when it is not used properly. But then my therapist has known me for upteen years now so knows what information to get from me to get me away from my suicidal thinking. Another form that is NOT used at all that should is the psychache form by Richard Holden at Queen’s University in Canada. That I have used to monitor my psychache and even modified the form for my needs. Every journal I have has the psychache scale in it. I would reproduce it here but it’s not kosher and I don’t want to get in trouble with the web police for copyrighted information. Holden wrote the article in 2001 and it is printed in the Canadian Journal of Behavioural Science, 33(4), 224-232. I find Jobes and Holden to be the best suicidologists in the world because they have come up with assessments that are clinically useful and empirically validated.

seriously want to know…

by Midnight Demon, posted in depression, mental disorders, mental illness, suicide, suicide attempt

Seriously want to know why I take meds when it doesn’t seem to make a difference. I really believe suicidal thinking is more of a psychological think more than a biological thing, because shouldn’t I be better with meds than without? I have been on meds since I was sixteen. I have had many suicide attempts while on meds and while off meds, my most serious attempts being while ON. I am not saying that the medication that I take for my mood disorder made me suicidal. If that were the case, I think I would be dead by now. But seeing as I have been doing what the books tell you, to be in therapy and to have a medication regimen, shouldn’t I be LESS suicidal or at least a little bit more content with my life that I am not thinking of taking my life every day?

I have been on all the different psychotropic medications out there, from lithium to valproic acid, from Prozac to Zoloft, from remeron to cymbalta, all of the anti psychotics to deal with the nagging voices in my head that criticize me and tell me to kill myself. These voices sound like real voices to me and sometimes I have to be careful when others are around because they do think I am crazy when I have a conversation with myself. And I mean a full-fledged conversation with questions and answers. I don’t see my voices, just hear them. And a tiny pink pill called Abilify helps me to control them when they get too loud.  Nothing else works with less side effects. And side effects is what kept me going from med to med to what I take today which is a handful of pills a day. Not only do I take meds for my mental illness, I take it for my blood pressure, menstrual cycle, GERD, pain, spasms, anxiety/worry, and allergies. I long for the day when I was only taking one or two pills a day.

Life has become more complicated and so my has my suicidality. I thought that if I stayed in talk therapy, I would be better. I thought that if I took medication, my moods would be better and I would be able to function. But none of that is true for me. I have struggled with this illness for the past twenty years and no break has happened. I am constantly depressed, constantly suicidal. I just cannot be happy or if I am it is short lived. My one highlight of the day is my Starbucks trips. I get my latte or mocha and all is right with the world for a little while. I might write in my journal or just watch the traffic go by on the street or just take my coffee and head home, which is what I do most days. I just cannot be out for more than an hour. I become fatigued too quickly and then need to lie down. Plus if I stand long while waiting for the bus, my leg gets inflamed and then starts hurting me. I hate being in chronic physical pain almost as much as I hate being in chronic psychological pain.

Why do I still continue to take my meds despite not feeling 100% better? I know what my life is like while taking the meds versus when I don’t. it’s not pretty. I can barely get out of bed and do things on most days when I don’t take my meds. Taking my meds give me the hope I need to try and see the silver lining in some shape or form. If I didn’t believe that a tomorrow will be better than today, then I think I would have killed myself a long time ago and succeeded. I know I don’t have much to live for. I am hopeless most days. But I do the routine as frustrating as it can be some days. I know my psychiatrist has helped me more than anyone. She is my rock of hope when I no longer have one. When I went on a med hiatus, she is the one that got me back on the meds because my heart was so heavy I didn’t think I was going to make it.

There are some people in my life that I am still here for and I guess that is why I take my meds. I have to be here for my nieces and nephew. I don’t want to. I rather be six feet under pushing up daisies for an eternity. But not today. Today is a dreary day in Boston and I am just going to sit in bed and write this story about why I take my meds and maybe sleep some. I have nothing else to do today. It is my day to relax and put my feet up. I ran out of spoons on Tuesday and today is the day that I am trying to collect them back.

sense of humor keeping me alive?

by Midnight Demon, posted in depression, mental disorders, mental illness, suicide, suicide attempt, transgender

Sense of humor keeping me alive?

Been thinking about this today.. I was at an interview meeting for first year medical students and I remember joking a lot with the interviewer. I was talking about serious stuff, like my suicide and transgender issues and I kept thinking why is every one laughing. I was laughing at myself, but inside. The voices were watching me and I could tell they were not pleased. They always get nervous when I tell people my most personal thoughts. I guess they get jealous when I tell people outside because the voices are lonely and they need me to continue to talk to them to exist. I have not been faithful with my medication the past few days. I find that my mind is better for writing when I am not medicated than when I am. It truly sucks trying to write and you can’t because the thoughts just are not flowing.

I began reading a book on sibling suicide written by a friend of mine. I had no idea how suicide affected siblings. I never thought about how my sisters would react to my death if I died by my own hand. I was more afraid of their children’s grief than theirs. I guess you can say I am too old to kill myself but that does not mean I want to live. I am forced to live because of my responsibilities to others. That is why I am still here. I can joke about suicide and suicidal thinking, because it is who I am. Right now I am feeling like the biggest asshole on the planet and I am betting not a single person on facebook responds to it. I know I post a lot of statuses. It is because I am bored most of the time and have to tell people what I am doing like they really care. I find that less meaningful statuses draw more attention than serious ones. I don’t know why that seems important to me but I have noticed it. Very rarely do my family members respond. Usually my friends do. Even those that are across the pond will respond. I know that not everyone can respond to each of my twenty or more statuses but the ones that mean the most to me are the ones that I find the most painful. I complain a lot about being in chronic pain. I use my Facebook status to vent about how awful I feel, both physically and mentally. It is very rare that I will post I am having a good day. The days last week are gone and I doubt they will happen again. I feel like my air has been let out of the balloon and now I am back to my usual level of depression.

Today I had a migraine. It was really bright outside and I resented having to go out to this meeting but I agreed and I always hold up to my commitments no matter how bad I was feeling. In this meeting I divulged more than I should have and I think that is why I am feeling very terrible now. I can’t shut up the voices in my head. They have been chattering non-stop since I have come home. I have been trying to read to drown them out but it does no good. They keep telling me I am a loser and won’t amount to a thing. That the book deal with my friend will never happen, that it was a joke to start with and I am starting to believe them because why would someone want to hear my voice? What makes me so damn special that others want to know my struggles with depression and suicide and being a transgender or being homosexual? But am I really homosexual if I am a guy and like women? I am so confused!!! I just want to fricken die rather than deal with this stuff. I know that I must continue to live to make others happen but it’s killing me to struggle every damn day, whether I pee my pants, crap my pants, am in chronic pain with my stupid ankle or have the nerve pain from hell or just have the biggest psychache in the world for no reason other than I am not who I am. I am a guy trapped in a woman’s body and it is killing me to be this way.

In the thick of the Abyss

by Midnight Demon, posted in depression, mental disorders, mental illness, suicide, suicide attempt

I don’t know why but the past few days have my mood going down and down instead of in the opposite direction despite the changes in my circumstance. I now know how Poe felt when he wrote I am wretched and know not why. “My feelings at this moment are pitiable indeed.  I am suffering under a depression of spirits much as I have never felt before.  I have struggled in vain against the influence of this melancholy-you will believe me when I say that am still miserable in spite of the great improvements in my circumstances.  I say you will believe me, and for this simple reason, that a man who is writing for effect does not write thus.  My heart is open before you if it be worth reading. Read it.  I am wretched and know not why.  Console me-for you can. But let it be quickly or it will be too late.  Write me immediately. Convince me that it is worth one’s while -that it is all necessary to live, and you will indeed prove yourself my friend.  Persuade me to do what is right. I do not mean this- I do not mean that you should consider what I now write a jest-oh pity me! For I feel that my words are incoherent- but I will recover myself.  You will not fail to see that I am suffering under a depression of spirits which will [not fail to] ruin me should it be long continued.” edgar allan poe

 I truly think that I am a bad person who just deserves evil things to come at me not good. I can’t understand why though. People say that I write good but I think it’s crap. I am supposed to have this editorial position but yet I don’t think I should have it despite the person who wants me to have this job thinks I should. I know she is a better judge of character. I just can’t see anything but darkness right now and for someone to tell me that there is a light at the end of the tunnel, well let’s just hope they don’t because I know I will dope slap them. There is no light as far as I can see. Today is a dreary day and it should make me happy but instead it just eases my gloom because it’s how I feel. I started feeling down Sunday and it’s now Tuesday. I don’t see my mood changing. What is worse is that I had an impulse to put a rope around my neck this afternoon soon as I got home from forcing myself out. It quickly went away but the thought unsettled me. I guess it doesn’t help that I can do this at anytime, anywhere I choose. It won’t take much to do. I just need the guts to do it. I am going down this road and it is horribly painful. I had another incontinent episode today so that further brought me down. You would think I would be used to pissing my pants but I am not. Yesterday I got awarded being disabled and I can’t help but think that I am been demoralized because of it. I no longer feel like I have a right to anything, much less life. It is the price you pay with a damaged nerve and damaged mind. I can’t go back and change things but I can at least appreciate things more. I just hope I am fit enough for the task ahead with this writing that I am doing but I am not so sure.

Writing has always been something that I do to pass time and it has worked well. When I am not writing, I am deeper in the abyss. There have been studies on it but I can’t think of who the guys are right now. Not that it really matter to you, my reader. I have wondered always if I am too smart for my own good. Maybe I am. Maybe I’m not. I don’t know anymore. I just know my heart is broken and I don’t know what caused it to be this way. I am just so damn downhearted and it is just getting worse.