Tag: mental pain

Appointments that didn’t happen

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

Appointments that didn’t happen

My therapist agreed, reluctantly, to cancel my appointments for this week. I am glad because I don’t feel like talking this week. I see my psychiatrist tomorrow. She just emailed me to change the time. It’s later in the afternoon which means I get to sleep a little longer.

My father wasn’t feeling well so we didn’t go to his appointment. I rescheduled for next week. I went over there because he wanted me to be there. I stayed for a couple of hours and then I had to leave. I couldn’t stand the shows he was watching. I tried to get him to eat something but he said that if he did, he would vomit. I must have asked him fifty times what he wanted to eat and he said no each time.

My appetite struggles continue. I just had coffee and an Ensure. I was going to order a steak and cheese but changed my mind so I might order it for dinner. But right now, I am not hungry and the thought of food repulses me. This has to be the longest streak that my appetite has been next to nothing. Yesterday I barely had 800 calories. Today is looking to be the same unless I get the cheese steak and fries.

Physically I am exhausted. I just want to sleep. My pain levels are minimal so I haven’t been taking pain meds too often. I feel like a deadweight. Even though my mother said she wasn’t going to call me to ask what I wanted for dinner, she did anyway. She wants to make porkchops. I don’t feel like having porkchops. She got mad. Oh well.

My psychiatrist acknowledged how difficult things are for me right now. She said that it would be ok for me to go to the hospital if I needed to be there. Things is, until I get things settled with my father, I can’t really go in. If I have another suicidal episode, I will. I will have to pack a bag and that seems so daunting because I don’t know what to pack. I have just one pair of pjs that are decent. I need to get more pjs. What really keeps me from going in is the mountain of pills I will have to take because they don’t have the dose of many of my meds. For example, last time I was there, I had to take 4 pills of Lisinopril because they didn’t have the 40 mg tabs. I hated taking my meds every night because of this. It was worst than what I take at home.

sleeplessness, suicide, and other things

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

I took my night meds because I was feeling sleepy. Then I experienced some side effects. I think it was most likely withdrawal as I haven’t taken a pain med since last night. So I took one pill and now I am awake. I am listening to music and it’s keeping me awake. I know I should shut it off and try and get some sleep but I am not tired anymore. I hate when I wake up. It’s after midnight.

I started writing a blog/essay about my experience with dealing with the suicidality of the night before. I got to less than 200 words and gave up. I should have hand wrote it. Now the thoughts have escaped me. I hate when that happens. I really wanted to include it in my book.

The American Association of Suicidology will be having their annual conference in a couple days time. People are already meeting up and the conference doesn’t officially start until Thursday. I just care about what Jobes says. I hope he doesn’t have a pre conference workshop. I won’t be by my laptop Wednesday because I have an appointment with my psych. I also emailed her about my “episode”.

What strikes me about this episode is that there was no trigger other than intense psychache. My heart was being torn apart in a million pieces and I just wanted to die. I had the means to die. I just had to act but I didn’t. No one would know why I attempted to kill myself. I am not so sure either. I know I didn’t want to die in my room, not where someone close to me would find me. I never would be trusted again with my pills. And I am 40 years old to be treated like a child would be such an insult.

I honestly don’t know what would happen if I attempted and didn’t succeed in my house. That is something that I really don’t want to find out. I didn’t do anything to harm myself last night, as intense as the feelings were. And it seemed like they only lasted about ten minutes before they dissipated as fast as they appeared. I held out, again. My only question is, what about next time? Will I be so lucky, if that is the word to use?

In twelve hours I will find out if my therapist will honor my cancellation of our appointment. There has been no indication from her whether she will call me or not. So I am left wondering. I gave her plenty of time to cancel, more than 24 hours. But I don’t know if the blog that I sent her will void the cancellation. She will do that sometimes. I guess that is part of the reason why I can’t sleep. I am too worried about the what ifs. If she doesn’t call, I can leave my house earlier and get my Starbucks. I can also get my letter from my new PCP for my loan documentation that I need.

I continued the rant on Twitter about how the NP dismissed my depression as “stress”. I have never felt so offended before in my life. Stress is not something that causes depression or make you lose weight, your appetite, lose sleep, and feel worthless. I had all the physical symptoms of depression and she dismissed them. I can’t trust her anymore, not with my depression anyways. I have to keep the elephant in the room quiet now. I miss my old PCP. He understood. He was one of a kind. And the institution where he worked lost a great physician.

weight, food and books

by Midnight Demon, posted in Bipolar Disorder, blogging, depression, mood disorders

I sent off my protected blog to my therapist so she can read it and then I cancelled therapy for the week. She hasn’t said anything. I am still waiting for my father’s doc’s office to call me back to set up an appointment. If I don’t hear anything by 1500, I am going to call again.

I got one thing accomplished today. I took a shower. I was going to go to the barber’s shop for the haircut but now I will have to go Thursday. The shop is closed on Tuesdays and Wednesdays. I also made a tuna sandwich for lunch. I didn’t have breakfast as I fell asleep after I made the phone call this morning and showered.

I went on a rant last night. I started to complain about how the medical profession doesn’t seem to care about depression the way they ought to. I also ranted about how this is all “stress”, like it will go away. I lost another eight pounds due to this “stress” aka depression. I should be happy but I am not. I have always felt weird around my weight. My old PCP was after me every month to lose and the “stress” of him telling me to lose actually caused me to gain. Now that I don’t have that pressure with the NP, I am dropping pounds left and right. I know it’s because I am not eating my usual foods. I am eating just one meal a day, if that. So I just eat when I am hungry no matter the hour. Trouble has been what to eat because nothing appeals to me. I have lost interest in food.

I know this may sound silly but I am going to say it anyway. I feel like with me losing weight, I am losing a part of myself. I know I don’t need the weight. I am too heavy for my frame. I never was skinny. I was always on the heavy side. But I just feel like I need to be heavy or no one will like me. People liked me when I was much lighter. I have proof of that. But It’s just a weird thing because I have been overweight for so long that I grew used to it. Now there is a chance I might meet my goal of being 185 again or lower if I just continue to watch what eat. I guess you can blame my father for this because he always called me fat and ugly.

I am addicted to books. Last night a friend on Twitter showed a Neil Gaiman book, the Sandman Overture. I had to have it so I bought the collection on Kindle for $20. It’s the third Gaiman book that I have bought the last few days. I don’t know when I am going to read them, but I have them. I am still working on Brothers Karamazov. I read a little each day or try to. It’s hard with the depression. It’s kind of fun because you go back to Russia and think about those times before communism and fascist regimes. When Russia was ruled by the church. Least that is what I am getting from the book.