rough therapy session

Rough therapy session

I had a rough therapy session where all we did was talk about my suicidal feelings and the blog that I wrote yesterday. I also told her about getting a call from my psychiatrist. She doesn’t want me emailing her about my psychosis and I am to page her from now on. My therapist wanted me in the hospital but I don’t want to go. I really just want to die and be left alone to do it. We talked about that. I know that I should probably be in the hospital but I seriously don’t want to get doped up. I have been taking the trilafon as needed. I will page my doc tomorrow to get more as I only have four left. It’s not going to enough to get me through the weekend.

My therapist also wants me to toss the means I have or to give it to someone I trust. I don’t trust anyone so that will leave the dumping to me. She wants me to text her when I have done it. I am struggling with this big time because this screws up my plan. I may never have an opportunity like this again. And I will kick myself for getting rid of these means. It doesn’t mean I won’t have other means available, but what I have is considerably less lethal. I am also scared that if I go to the hospital with them knowing or me telling them the voices are telling me take all my pills, it might cause problems with my pain medication like it has in the past. Granted my PCP isn’t around anymore and I am being followed by a nurse practitioner, but still, the threat is there. I would seriously hate to have my pills restricted because of some idiot thinking I will OD on them, when I know what will kill me and what won’t. If I want to really fuck up my liver, I just need a bottle of 500 count Tylenol, handy at any pharmacy or store that sells drugs. That is more lethal than what I have in my stocks. Plus it will wreck your liver more than kills you in the process so I don’t want that.

We did some Crisis Response planning. I don’t think I will do anything other than possibly page my psychiatrist. My therapist said she is going away and she doesn’t have coverage so it’s either the psych or the ER as my options. And this is a holiday weekend so it would not be good to get admitted.

I need to somehow take a shower today. I bought a new shampoo that I hope will help with the itchy scalp. It was expensive but my rewards at Walgreens paid off so it only came to be around a buck. Now I got to start rebuilding my points. I still feel out of sorts today. I just took a trilafon to quiet the noise a little bit so I could possibly read. It’s been awfully noisy in my head the past few days that I can’t read. I have a stack of books that are waiting to be read and I can’t get through the ones I have started. I found out today that my favorite author Neil Gaiman is coming out with a new book in February. It’s about mythology. It sound very interesting. He is the only author I know that produces at least two books a year. I wish I could write like that. But then, I am not the creative genius he is. I got my AP Stylebook today. I have been waiting forever for it to see what it is like and stuff but today I don’t have the energy to thumb through it.

I really don’t have the energy to do anything today. I just want to die. I hope my heart stops beating. I just don’t want to live anymore. I feel like crap, like my soul has been sucked out of me. I still feel like I can go ahead with my plan tomorrow and no one would be the wiser. But I made a promise and I always stick to my promises.

Severe pain continues

Severe pain continues

I finally was able to sleep around 0230 or so. All the meds I was taking finally knocked me out so I could sleep. I shut my phone off so I wouldn’t be disturbed. I woke up around 1100, which was good. But the pain was still there and now my upper ankle is hurting me like I have been standing on it all night. I know that this pain is nerve pain because it’s more of a throbbing pain like the rest of my ankle and foot.

I needed coffee when I woke up so I made it. I brewed Pike’s coffee, a Starbucks blend. It is strong coffee but not the acid burning kind. I find that it is stronger than the Brazil coffee that I have. I wasn’t hungry so I didn’t make anything. I planned on making hot dogs, which I just had. They were yummy. I bought Fenway Franks which are the best dogs on the planet, to me anyway. I then had a piece of pumpkin pie. I am so full. I think I will have supper later tonight, if I get hungry. I still have the ribs from yesterday to finish off. I plan on making biscuits sometime today but it depends on how my foot is feeling. Taking a shower and making lunch really brought back the pain so I am going to rest for the next few hours.

Sox game is starting. I was going to listen to it but my favorite pitcher is pitching and he has been sucking big time lately. I really think he still has potential to be a great pitcher. I just think something mentally is going on. Maybe the pressure of being in Boston is getting to him. His first outing he pitched a no hitter and he hasn’t pitched well since. So every time he is on the mound people are expecting him to pitch well. Only reason I am not listening to it is that it is painful to hear him pitch badly. Much worse to watch.

I am glad I was able to shower. I feel better, a little bit than I did last night. I emailed my psychiatrist twice last night. I sent her my blog and then a few hours later, I sent her an email exactly telling her what was on my mind. It wasn’t good. Between the voices creeping up and the severe pain, I am suicidal, again. The voices aren’t telling me to harm myself. But they are just encroaching on my space. They want to know everything that I am doing, all the time and why I am doing it. If I pick this coffee over that one, they want to know why. If I take a pill, they want to know why I don’t take two instead. It’s exhausting. I wrote a lot last night. I had started writing at 0130 that day so around 2340 I continued where I left off. I think I wrote until it was well after 0100. I don’t even remember what I wrote. I still fear a hospitalization is coming. I just don’t want to go back because I don’t want to be doped on meds. I can still function, well, as a psychotic person can. I am used to it. I am not scared except when I am paranoid. But that is mostly when I am out and about. It’s really hot today so I am just staying in my room.

I plan on reading more of “Common Struggle”. It’s a good book and it’s hooking me in because he is at the point where he is realizing he has an alcohol and drug problem. I find it amazing when people recover and do something about their illness. He also has been pushing mental health parity in the US Congress. He really wants brain diseases (mental illness) and addiction to be treated the same way as diabetes and cancer. Unfortunately, there is more stigma to fight because people don’t seek help for fear of not being helped or being told to “tough it out” or think positive thoughts. Most often, people seek help and find there are huge waiting lists to see someone. The same is true everywhere. Sometimes even after a suicide attempt, there isn’t a bed available so they stay in the medical ER until a bed becomes available, only to be released a few days later with the “promise” not to try again. No follow up or after care is given, usually. There just isn’t money to follow up. That is why I think it’s a joke that some places are taking on the “Zero suicide” initiative. That is all well and good until someone falls through the cracks and kills himself or herself.

Some Thoughts on a Saturday Evening

Some thoughts on a Saturday evening

I recently found out that a friend of mine on Twitter lost someone by suicide. She had interviewed this person two years ago for her photo thing called “Live Through This” (www.livethroughthis.org). I was sad to hear this because I thought people who were interviewed were somehow free of suicidal thoughts, that they had their life together after their attempt. I never was interviewed because I don’t want the exposure and I didn’t think I had anything positive to contribute because my moods were so bleak. I also was actively suicidal at times. I still think one day I will die by my own hand, that is if some alien parasite doesn’t take it first.

I have been reading over my blogs from 2-3 years ago. The blogs were all about the severe pain I was in with my ankle/foot and how suicidal it was making me. I also wasn’t getting any support from my PCP. He just wanted to “fix” me but really couldn’t. He also was very discriminating towards me because of my weight. There were blogs on the visits where he just wanted me to be more active. How was I going to be more active if I couldn’t walk without severe pain? Even on the last visit he wanted me to go to some program to learn to live with the pain and gain function. I know he doesn’t want me on my pain medication but I really don’t have a choice. It’s either be on this medication or end my life. That is how I see it.

This evening, I have been thinking about suicide. My foot has been aggravating me all day. It didn’t help that I kept on going up and down the stairs or that I fixed my lunch or put away all my groceries. I just don’t want to be in pain anymore. And I am tired of being in this depression that has been going on for months. Despite me being on medication for it, I don’t feel relief. It could be that the grief of my father has clouded my thinking. I just know that I can’t go on living like this. I have the means to end my life. I just don’t know if it will be enough. I don’t want to attempt and fail. That to me will be worse than dying.

I have been trying not to think about this plan that I cooked up months ago. I just am so sad. I have been reading today to distract myself. I was reading “Common Struggle” by PJ Kennedy. He was talking about his addiction to alcohol and pain meds. He was hooked on oxycontin. I was on that drug many years ago. It worked for me but then it made me kind of manic. I was glad to get off it. I am glad I am no longer taking it. It just did a number on me psychologically. My current pain meds don’t affect me that way. They help the pain and make me sleepy at times, but not all the time. If I am already exhausted, sure, I will get sleepy. But if I am already catching my second wind, they will not knock me out. I don’t know why sometimes it does and sometimes it doesn’t. It’s just weird. And it’s the same dose that I take so I really can’t understand it. But getting back to Kennedy, he made me appreciate that I do not have an addiction problem when I could very easily. Addiction runs in my family, but mostly for the illicit kind like cocaine and heroin. I have had one cousin die from a speedball (combo of coke and heroin). They ruled it an accidental death but I learned that a week before he died he was giving away possessions so I think it was more of a suicide.

I often wonder what it would be like to be dead. I just don’t want to be anymore. I am tired of living. In Kennedy’s book, he said that he didn’t have suicidal tendencies because if he did, he would probably be dead. Given the amount of alcohol he consumed and the pain meds, I would say he wouldn’t survive an attempt. I wonder why I am still alive. I know it has been a long while since I last attempted. But even though I have meticulously planned out a suicide plan, I have never gone through with it. My therapist or psychiatrist always seem to pull me away from going ahead with the plan, either with increased sessions or with them telling me how devastated they would be with my loss. I don’t get what they see in me.

I always feel they will be better off without me. They can’t stop me. No one can really. Sure they can hospitalize me but there is always discharge a few days later. And I know the system to get out and in. They know I know this. It’s just a matter of time before I act on my feelings. It may not be today or tomorrow but it will be soon.

King of Pain

King of Pain

I was listening to my MP3 player and this song came on. I thought it was perfect for today. I have had it on repeat because I like the melody and lyrics. It describes how I feel today. The song is by the Police. It is one of my favorite songs on their album Synchronicity.

I woke up early and was fidgety. I went to the Square to get my coffee and do a couple of errands. Now my bowels seem to have woken up since I came home. This sucks but I am glad that I am home and not out and about. The cramps are what is killing me. I don’t know if it’s air or crap. With CES, you never know so it’s always best to be on a toilet when you let loose. Otherwise, you might be sorry.

I might go out again after my therapy appointment. I won’t get another coffee, but I might get an iced tea. I really would like to read the psych book that I bought and have been neglecting to take with me. The only reason I don’t usually take it with me is because I don’t have my journal in the bag. But the thing is, I will either write or read. I usually won’t do both. We’ll see how therapy goes. If it’s favorable, I will go out. My psych got back to me. She wants me to page her this evening. I am glad I got a response from her.

I didn’t take my abilify last night and the voices are rampant. I don’t care. I trust them more than real people right now. I should have trusted them all along but the “real” people persuaded me otherwise. I can’t believe how stupid I have been. I texted Bozo telling her I am no longer taking the abilify and I am canceling next week’s sessions. I really don’t want to talk to her anymore. There is no point. She hurt me and I don’t think there is any reconciliation. Besides, I have the voices to talk to, who needs therapy. They understand me better than anyone. They can read my thoughts where as no one else can. Sometimes I don’t even have to talk to answer their questions.

I wanted to get my haircut today but I forgot the money to get it. Maybe I will get it before going to Starbucks to read, if I go back out. My foot is acting up so I am not sure if I will go out. I kind of had to put pressure on it today while on the bus so I didn’t go flying off my seat. I was on the new bus and it’s not made for short people. My feet dangle off the seat so I have to stretch to stay on the seat.

I hope three is the charm. My rear is killing me from going to the bathroom so many times. It’s not just irritation, but also nerve pain that I feel. It really sucks to have a bowel movement when you have cauda equina syndrome.

If I don’t make it back out today, I will read some Dostoevsky. I charged up my tablet last night. I found that the battery does last longer if you don’t have notifications going off. I disabled most of them. There really is no need as I have my phone and laptop and I hardly will use my tablet for messaging or sending email. I primarily use it only for the Kindle app. As long as the tablet doesn’t die on me or run out of memory for the books I buy, I will keep it. No point in getting another one. If it ain’t broke why fix it?