Pain and dealing with a moron

Pain and dealing with a moron

My ankle decided to act up around 2330 because I wanted to lie down and god forbid, sleep. I called UNCLE but it still said fuck you. I just took another dose of pain meds so I am hoping to say fuck you back. I am not surprised I am in pain after the day that I had. I would be surprised if I wasn’t in pain. I am listening to music so that is helping the anxiety that accompanies my pain.

I posted a post in my CES group about wanting advice about what to do with having urinary problems due to possible medication and pain. I got this moron that thought that my pain medication and something else was the reason of my urinary problems. He also was confused about urodynamic testing and when I pointed this out to him, he said that you just pee out of your ass. I had enough of his antics and put a stop to the conversation, because the next step was to kick him out of the group. I can’t deal with people that don’t know basic anatomy.

Meds are making me very drowsy but the fucking pain is keeping me from slumber. Didn’t help matters that because of my nerve injury, I didn’t know that I was scratching myself in my anal area to the point of bleeding. I immediately cut my nails down because that is the last thing I need. I can’t believe how stupid I was doing something like this. Now I am in pain in that area and because of the inflamed nerves, I don’t know how long that is going to last. I really hope I don’t have a bowel movement because the last thing I need is an infection there.

In other pain news, my right Achilles is flared up. Every time I walk it hurts. I really need to do those exercises I got from the internet to help ease the pain. Some ice would probably help too but I am too tired to get the ice pack. I will ice it tomorrow. It’s probably hurting because of all I did today too. I just can’t fucking win with my damn ankles.

For some reason, I am getting hungry. I really don’t want to trek downstairs again. I ordered some cheese and crackers on my next online grocery order. I will have them up in my room so the mice can’t get at them but I can. Would love to get some cheese whiz and crackers but I don’t have the space for all that stuff. My night stand is already crammed with junk. I really need to go through it and clear it off. But I’m afraid that once I start moving stuff, I will cause a domino effect and things will fall where I don’t want them to.

I want to share this picture that someone posted on Facebook about Chronic pain. I love it. If you suffer from chronic ailments, I am sure you will find it true as well.

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ASAD: Acute Suicidal Affective Disturbance

ASAD: Acute Suicidal Affective Disturbance

http://www.mdedge.com/clinicalpsychiatrynews/article/100017/depression/aas-acute-suicidal-affective-disturbance-proposed

I read the above article with interest. One of my Twitter buddies shared it with me and wanted my opinion on it. I think that it is right on queue and I hope that Dr. Joiner eventually sees this as a diagnosis. But I worry that if the stigma of suicide is not dealt with, it might just be an admitting diagnosis and thus cause more harm than good.

According to the criteria lined out, I meet this diagnosis, though at this time, I am unable to rule out whether a medical condition or conditions exclude the diagnosis. There have been many a times that while I am in excruciating pain, this condition is activated and I am acutely suicidal. The only thing that has saved me from actually making an attempt on my life is that I physically cannot walk and have refused to kill myself in my own home. Then in the morning (most of these attacks have occurred in the midnight hours), I no longer feel so suicidal.

It used to be that what I would call a “switch” would be activated and I would be suicidal until I fell asleep. Now I know that it’s this disturbance that occurs and it makes sense to me. But in every suicidal occurrence that has happened over the past two years, it has been because of physical pain or some kind of dissociative state brought on by physical pain. Very rarely has it occurred solely with psychache or psychological pain. Granted not every episode is psychache free and physical pain free. I will have what Shneidman calls the three Ps, Psychache, Perturbation, and Press as well as physical pain that causes me to be severely suicidal. These nights, I swear to myself I will end my life the next day when I can walk again. Fortunately, I don’t feel as suicidal the next day because I had a few hours or more of respite from these kinds of pain and perturbation. That isn’t to say that I won’t be activated the next night or come up with a suicidal plan to end my life the following day. These plans are usually a few weeks away to give me time to think things over and essentially put off today what can be done tomorrow. These plans have also given me time to work through my feelings and usually by the time that date comes, I no longer feel suicidal enough to go ahead with the plan.

Suicidality is a tricky business and not everyone’s suicidality is the same. What triggers my suicidality might not trigger someone else’s. There are mitigating factors that might be similar in nature like the criteria states but I would love to see the data in the context of ruling this a diagnosis. Just because I find this disturbance fits my suicidality, doesn’t mean that it will someone else’s and that is the difficulty with the nomenclature I think Joiner talks about in his article.

Cubs Win, Baseball Season is Over

Cubs win, baseball season is over

It was a thrilling game. The Chicago Cubs won after a 108 year drought. I was cursing them the whole time but I was rooting for them just the same. I don’t like their manager, Joe Maddon. I think he is a crooked guy.

My love, for now, has ended and I am sad. I won’t see another game until March, when Spring Training starts, that is if I am still alive by then. I will miss baseball for the next few months and the depression will kick in and knock me to my knees. I hate this. I have what is called BDD, baseball depressive disorder. Only cure is baseball games and they don’t start until March a long ways from now.

Ac in October, why not?

AC in October, why not?

I just came home from my therapy appointment. It warmed up considerably as I made my way back home. I am sweating so I turned on the AC soon as I got in my room. It was supposed to be in the 80s but it’s 10 degrees cooler. I don’t care as long as I have AC.

I woke up five minutes before my alarm was set to go off. I waited it out before I got up to take a shower. Then I killed time before I trekked to the car. It wasn’t bad as it was last time. I guess because I wasn’t in as much pain. Surprisingly, I didn’t have to put gas in the car as it had more than a half tank. I set off and got to my appointment a half hour early. I waited in the car listening to the radio and checking Twitter.

Therapy went okay. She wasn’t able to read the password protected blog I sent her because she was putting in the wrong password. She didn’t read the text completely so didn’t see what the password was. She isn’t that technological. I told her what the password was and what the blog was about. I also told her that I emailed my psychiatrist bluntly about what is going on. We talked about my pain most of the time and how yesterday was a really bad day for me. I never cry because of pain but yesterday between the sleep deprivation and the loss of my father hitting me hard, I was more vulnerable.

We talked about my suicidality but I didn’t give her my new date and she didn’t ask. She understands why I go there and how things get so bad so quickly. What I don’t think she is getting is how fucking close I am to attempting. I am beyond snapped. I just got to get the courage to go through with it and I hope to do it sometime soon. My biggest fear stopping me is being found before I am dead and then I survive. That is the problem with taking pills, they take a while to work before they finally kill you.

We did talk about my “lovely” father as his six month anniversary is coming up next Tuesday. I really can’t believe it has been six months already. It still feels like yesterday. It’s weird yet relieving that I don’t have to deal with his abuse anymore. The hard part is that I miss his banter, his stupid, demanding phone calls. I had a voicemail message come through last week. I missed his voice so I replayed one of his old voicemails. When I played the message thinking it was the new message I was shocked for a little bit. Then I realized I didn’t get out of the message. I miss that fucker.

My therapist hasn’t texted me about liking the cake I sent her. I hope the sweetness didn’t kill her. That would be the first. Death by pumpkin cake. My mother is making lasagna for dinner. I am going to be loaded with carbs tonight. Lasagna is not my favorite dish but I will eat it if I am hungry enough. After therapy when I came back to Boston, I went to Kelly’s for roast beef sandwich and onion rings. I ate the sandwich but couldn’t finish the rings. It’s the only thing that I have had today other than a latte.

My mood is still kind of sour and my ankle is throbbing. I took some pain meds when I came home and the voices started on me. They want to know why I just don’t take the bottle. I didn’t take the afternoon dose of trilafon because I was on the road. I took it with my pain meds to shut the voices up. They have been really ornery lately, especially when I am vulnerable with pain overload. I told my therapist that my PTSD is up because the pain is so awful. I really don’t know what is going to get me out from under this. It just seems so pointless and I just want to die so I don’t have to deal with it anymore. I told her I was just mentally and physically exhausted from dealing with it night after night. I am being conditioned to fall asleep around 0300 nearly every night. If I can’t break the cycle, I dread what will happen. I need two pain meds to get me through these horrible nights. I know part of it is the anxiety I have when the pain is peaking, making it hard to settle down. Then it’s pure exhaustion when I do finally sleep. It’s good that I don’t work because I would be sleep deprived nearly every work day.