Tag: mental pain

I’m Atypical

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

I’m Atypical

My third appointment for the day was for my new PCP. She seems nice and knowledgeable. She diagnosed my dizzy spells as atypical migraine, meaning instead of getting the headache, I get dizzy. Aren’t I lucky!? She also looked at the labs at my request and noted my potassium was low. She wants to have it rechecked next week when I see the NP. She also will be sending a note to my psychiatrist. Why, I don’t remember. I think it had to do with taking the amerge for the migraines as it can interfere with the sertraline. So now I got to be careful when I get a migraine. Shit. Forgot about this side effect. Fuck. My psych is going to flip.

Spoke to my psychiatrist about my father. She thinks he is in liver failure. I am in denial, only because his alt/ast are normal (liver function tests). But I could be dead wrong. Guy is going to die if he doesn’t get the fluid out of him, and soon. He is seeing his doctor tomorrow. I made the appointment today. Beats having to go next week. This will be trip 3 to the hospital this week. I might as well stay at the holiday inn around the corner, I am there so often.

Had therapy today. My therapist wants me to deal with the impending bereavement of my father. Fat chance. I killed him off when I was younger. His physical body just isn’t in the ground or urn to make it complete. There is nothing I feel about him other than anger. Hell, I have gone on to call him fuckface now because he angers me so damn much. I give him a year to live, sooner if he doesn’t listen to his damn doctors.

I couldn’t believe she brought this up. I am glad I don’t have to deal with her until next week. I might see her on Wed if I can finagle it. It’s been almost two months since I last saw her in person. I was supposed to see her this month but my father screwed that up.

I slept pretty good today, though I am exhausted now. I left the house at 0800 and didn’t return until 1700. I tried writing in my journal but my thoughts were so slow and I couldn’t think of anything to write. Then when I did write, it took me an hour and half to write a page and a half. It’s painful to write these days. I hope the Zoloft helps. I am not sure I can go on like this. I feel like I am living in a crater and every time I try to get out, I get sucked back in. My psych said that I am depressed because of my biological vulnerabilities and my stupid ass father. I don’t know why both my psych team are dwelling on my damn father. Leave him alone and he will go away, though I was telling my therapist today he is like a boil that keeps returning. Just when you think it’s safe, the boil comes back. I was telling my psych today that the reason he refused treatment on Monday was because he wasn’t spoken to by medical personnel in the ER. If a nurse had talked to him or something, he probably would have consented to being admitted. But nope. His ego wasn’t stroked and it didn’t help that my idiot sister was telling him there were other patients besides him they had to get to before him. He got mad and so left, AMA (against medical advice).

My brother in law just called to say that he is downstairs. I asked if he was ok. He said he was. I said good, I will see him tomorrow. I don’t give a fuck. Why should I spend time with him? A son shouldn’t have to ask for a relationship with his father. I love that quote.

Depression and its lies

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

Last night I couldn’t sleep. Someone had mentioned how “useful” a screening questionnaire was for suicide assessment and all I could think was, seriously?? Where were you when Jobes mentioned it 20 years ago? It got me steamed. Then I thought of another more direct questionnaire that dealt with suicide and wonder why that wasn’t being utilized. My brain was going and going. I had to write down my notes on the subject because it was 0200 and if I started writing and reading, I had no hope of catching any sleep.

I had therapy. I cried at certain points. Emotions were hitting me like a wet rag. I tried to contain myself but couldn’t. We were talking about feeling like a burden, that she should leave me, and that she was better off without me. I really need to read the Interpersonal Theory a little better. Maybe when I start feeling these things, I can climb my way out of it. Depression lies. I still don’t have a full appetite but I am eating. The physical symptoms of depression are still present. And no amount of therapy can help with that.

I was feeling dizzy after therapy but I had to do an errand for my mother. I did it and my back went out. I had to sit for a long time before I could get up and walk again. I really had no interest in leaving the house but I really wanted a soy latte. I got dressed and waited at the bus stop. While at the bus stop, I was still feeling like crap and must of have thought a million times to go back home. The bus came and I got on it. I got my latte and then I wanted to leave. I forced myself to write for at least a half hour in my journal before catching the next bus home. I don’t remember what I wrote about. I emailed my psychiatrist again. I really didn’t want to. But my therapist was telling me that she wanted to see me because it’s been so long since we have talked. She is a good support for me so I should see her. The depression is telling me otherwise. It’s so hard fighting it. I haven’t heard back from her yet. I have a feeling I am not going to. I don’t know why I keep trying. I just feel like it’s hopeless.

I wrote down my thoughts of my therapy session after we ended. I wrote longer than I intended to but that is ok. No one is going to see it except me. I feel bad that this month I am not going to see my therapist. I will try and make up for it next month. I am ahead in my cell phone bill so I plan on saving that money. I need to start saving money if I can. I hate not having a dime to my name some months.

I haven’t emailed my psychiatrist about going back to sertraline. I feel that warrants an in person conversation. But if I can’t get an appointment with her, I don’t know what I am going to do. It’s not like I am not trying or am avoiding her. It’s just exhausting waiting for a response. I know she is busy. For all I know, she might not be in the clinic full time.

The temps are really messing with my lower back. Sciatica flared up earlier today and now my lower back is aching. I think the weight loss has something to do with it as well, but I could be wrong. I just know I am not eating anything else today. I am just not hungry. The latte killed whatever appetite that I had. All I had today was a handful of pretzel nuggets and a pop tart with some apple juice. This is the longest my appetite has been affected, going on a month and half now. I have lost 12 lbs. so far. I am being careful not to gain the weight back on, but with no appetite, it’s been easy to do. My therapist thinks my stomach has shrunk and that is why I am eating something small and getting full. Whatever works! If I can lose another eight pounds, I will be happy, weight wise, anyway. My jeans can fit me better.

Rearview Mirror and other things

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

Rearview Mirror and other thoughts

I have been trying to write all evening. I wanted to write the “ending” to the trauma of this week that happened 25 years ago but there is no ending. I live with it every day. I am haunted by the memories, though they aren’t intrusive as they once were. The song rearview mirror by Pearl Jam really sings to me. It’s about abuse and how you survived it.

I have a narcissistic parent, there is no doubt about it. He might not be diagnosed by anyone but he fits all the characteristics of the disorder. “supposed to endure, what I could not forgive” that was a common theme in my house. “it wasn’t my surface most defiled”. My father, though violent at times, didn’t hit us after the third grade when someone told the teachers he had been doing so. But that didn’t stop the verbal abuse. Still to this day, he abuses my sisters and I. He thinks he is the king and should be respected above all else. “I guess the beatings made me wise”.

I never call him a dad to other people. He is my father or sperm donor when I refer to him. I call him dad when talking to him but it doesn’t mean anything. See, when I was learning Italian, the word for father was “papa”. I guess I used the word a little too much because I got a few backhands to stop me from using it. So it was dad from now on though I loathe the word.

I wish I could put him in my rearview mirror. Just forget he ever existed. But I have to deal with him to get him to his medical appointments and such. There is no emancipation from him until he is six feet under. And the bastard wants to live until eternity.

Meanwhile, my patience for the guy has hit rock bottom. I don’t care about his demands. I just want to die. The depression has peaked and I can’t tolerate myself anymore. My psych got back to me but we are unable to meet at an agreeable time because of the bastard. I am sure we will find another time.

Bad Pain Day

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

Bad Pain Day

My day has not gone off to a good start. I woke up early, around 0630, and my ankle was hurting so took some pain meds. I went back to sleep faster than I think the pain meds kicked in. When I woke up a few hours later, I thought I was ok. I wasn’t in pain. Then I got up and stood. My ankle was killing me with the pressure of standing. But I had to go pee so had to walk and go down stairs. I don’t remember if I had something to eat or not. I just wanted to get off my leg.

Some time during the night a good friend IM’d me. She needed my input on some gender “privilege” questions. I found the questions to be scary and some of them offensive at the same time. I couldn’t answer them because I didn’t know what to say. Some were yes or no answers, others required more thought. It was very difficult. There were questions about bathrooms and such. I never gave it a thought because I am still my “assigned” gender. Until I have surgery, I will use the designated bathroom for women. I can’t picture myself using a men’s bathroom with knockers on. That is just asking for trouble, in my opinion. And the doctor questions were really biased. A medical professional shouldn’t have to ask what gender you are to swab your throat because you are sick. Strep doesn’t discriminate. But if you are being swabbed because of an STD, I think you should see a different doc.

After I went through these questions, I decided to make some dinner. My ankle again didn’t like me walking on it. Course, my mother was ever so helpful in saying “maybe I twisted it”. Yea, I twisted it while I was sleeping all afternoon. It’s been almost four years that I have been out of work because of my ankle injury and she still doesn’t get it. This is why I hate bringing up my pain issues with her or telling her I am in pain because I get dumbass responses. She still thinks I need to find a doctor that will help me. I guess the 15 that I saw before I was deemed disabled weren’t good enough. If 15 doctors can’t figure out what is wrong with me, I give up, because doctor numbers 16 and 17 still don’t know what is wrong with me. I wish I could see the ankle doctor that I saw when I first hurt my ankle eight years ago. But he is no longer at the location down the street from me. He was a good doc, straight forward, no horse shitting around the bush. I think that is when my ankle started to go downhill, but I will never know. It was the other side of my ankle that I hurt, not the outer part. For the most part, I would say it has gotten better because I am not in as much pain as I was 3.5 years ago. Resting has done it’s job.

But why my ankle would bulge when I put weight on it today, I have no clue. Once I start walking it eases up but soon as I rest and start standing again, holy hell. I was going to take a shower today. It’s no longer in the works. I will try again tomorrow.

My mood kind of sucks right now, not to say it was good to begin with. I still have a heavy heart and black clouds following me. I am really tempted to restart the remeron just so I can have some relief from this darkness. But the risk of gaining weight outweighs the benefits right now. I really don’t want to regain the weight that I lost. Sertraline will be better, if I can get a hold of my pdoc. I’ll start on a baby dose and then if I tolerate it, move to 50 mg. Of course, there is no guarantee that even at 25 mg I will not become nauseated. And there is always the possibility that my pdoc will say no. It’s doubtful, but a possibility. I just priced a new SSRI called ViiBryd and it’s $50/month. If I go on sertraline, it’s, no kidding, $1.35/month, at the 25 mg dose. Sickening.

I have been sleeping most of the day because what else is there for me to do. I am very tired anyways. I wish my CBC showed that I was anemic of some kind that would explain the tiredness, but nope. All came back normal. I hate when there is nothing physically wrong with you when you feel so rotten. It’s just so annoying. Like my ankle pain. Every x-ray and MRI showed normal stuff except for some swelling in a place that wasn’t near my pain. I thought so many times of stabbing myself in my ankle to prove there was something wrong. Even if I damaged a tendon, that would at least be something rather than nothing. There is nothing I can do about the darkness that is surrounding me. There is no x-ray or MRI for that. And it sucks.