Tag: mental pain

Hip is on Fire

by Midnight Demon, posted in chronic physical pain, depression

Hip on fire

I woke up in pain again this morning. My hip just felt like it was on fire. I am so tired of being in pain every morning. Just when I think I am getting better, I take two steps back. I managed to get to the pharmacy to get my pain medication refilled. I desperately needed it as I took my last two this morning. Then it took forever for me to wake up. I planned on going soon as it opened at 10 am but I didn’t get out of bed until around 1330. I just couldn’t move. I also have been taking Ativan to calm down the damn spasms I have been having too. I just can’t win and I am tired of losing.

Tonight, I participated in the BPDChat on Twitter. I was using Tweetchat to participate but something was wrong with it as only my tweets were posting and no one else’s. I had to go to the main Twitter page to see everyone’s responses and comments. I should have just left and laid down and rest. I plan on doing that after I write this blog. I need to lie down. Sitting is getting almost impossible and despite taking pain meds, I am still hurting. I wish I could say that it is because I did X that caused this but I didn’t do anything. I didn’t lift anything. I just sneezed and threw my back out. Plus with this cough, I think I made things worse.

My mood sucks right now. I really am feeling like a piece of shit. I know my not sleeping right is also contributing to my sour mood. Tomorrow I have physical therapy and I don’t care if I don’t go. I really don’t feel like it. But I will go because it will get me out of the house. I just hope that I will be able to walk to get there. Lately, my hip/back has been giving me trouble walking. And going down the stairs is like I am tearing something. This really sucks.

I wrote my therapist a letter this morning. It was long as I was really tired and I was falling asleep as I was writing it. I just gave her a brief update to what was happening. I write her a letter every time she goes on vacation. Hopefully this time I will have it in the mail so she gets it when she is back in the office. I really miss her. I still don’t know when my pdoc is going to be back in the office. I hope it is soon. Guess I will find out after the holidays.

I really want to write a blog about the SSF and CAMS model. I realized that I don’t really talk in detail about them. I mention them in my blog but don’t go into great detail about them. I think it will be a good blog for therapists to have. And I have a few therapists that follow my blog.

I am really tired. Meds are working and I should be toast right now but I am fighting the fatigue like I always do. I have to take a shower sometime between now and tomorrow morning. I hate showering lately. But it’s something that has to happen. It just sucks when you are in pain with a bad back. Any standing motion just triggers more pain and spasms. It just really sucks. I should be getting better by now but for some reason, I am not. I don’t know why. It is really stressing me out. I am going to put a heating pad sticky on tonight to see if that helps. I figure it can’t hurt me. I would put my heating pad on but I really don’t want another thing on my bed. My bed is becoming more my office than a sleeping place. I have notepads, my laptop, journal, pens, a notebook, and a box of tissues. I also have my therapist’s card that I read to remind myself of what she said to me that means so much. I really value her words. I just wish they would sink in. But they don’t so, I have to keep reading them, if that makes sense. I can’t sit any longer so I am going to stop here.

One Great Mystery

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

One Great Mystery

“One Great Mystery” is a new song off Lady Antebellum’s new album, 747. It’s lyrics has struck a cord with me as I don’t know what I did to make my therapist “fall for me”. Tonight I am reminded of the time, many years ago, that I first encountered her stubbornness. I was in another suicidal depression and I so wanted to get rid of her. I felt like therapy was worthless because I was feeling such things. I was so into my suicidal mind that I was planning for my death and yet I wanted to make sure she was taken cared of. So the journal that I subscribed to had an article in it on therapists survivor group. She wouldn’t even accept the paper I was handing her, she couldn’t accept my eminent death, much less going to see a therapist for her grief. She really didn’t want me to die. Yet with every fiber of my being, I wanted to. I just couldn’t face life. It hurt too much. I was tired, extremely tired of fighting the battle of depression month after month, day in and day out. It is exhausting just putting a smile on your face when all you want to do is hide from the world. Yet somehow, some way, she got me through that episode. It was difficult work. I was almost as stubborn as she is. I had to consistently keep in contact with her via text message about how I was doing. I would write her the most awful of text messages. But it was a way to let her know I was still around. Long as I sent her a text, it meant I was still fighting this battle I so wanted to end.

During one horrific suicidal place that lasted for about three long weeks, I asked her if she would tell me that she loved me. I needed to hear that if I was to survive. So toward the end of session she would say it, and it would always surprise me. I was taken aback that she complied. Who does that?? And I could tell in her voice she was sincere. I knew that I had to keep on doing this thing called living. It’s like the song by Garth Brooks, “learning to live again”. One of the lines is “learning to live again is killing me”. And it was. I can’t describe the battle of death vs life that was going inside of me. I so wanted to die but I had my goofy therapist wanting me to live. My “kids” that needed me for their various things. And my sisters who need a person to vent to. When I was working, it was always responsibility to my job, though I planned on killing myself at work because I hated the place. Even though they tried to promote they were for taking care of your pain, they really didn’t. If I didn’t have a caring PCP, I would be screwed. I know that I would have ended my life years ago had my PCP turn me down for opioid therapy.

My therapist knew this. She and my psychiatrist know that my physical pain drives my suicidal tendencies to the limit. And when I don’t have a break, I get into a very depressive state that is hard to get out. Luckily, with my last hospitalization I was put on an antidepressant. If I wasn’t on it, I doubt it would have lifted my depression and suicidal thoughts.

But my therapist is great, as much as I call her a bozo and a PITA (pain in the ass). I know I wouldn’t be here without her persistent nature.

Birthday in Review

by Midnight Demon, posted in bipolar, blogging, cauda equina syndrome, suicide, suicide attempt

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Birthday in review

This time last year, I was thinking of taking my life. I was sure I was going end things. My book was done and I didn’t care if it got published or not. But I had commitments to keep. I had to keep my relationship with my writing partner. I had to keep going for my therapist’s sake. And by the time this day came, I really didn’t want to take my life. I wanted to see my book published. I wanted to see if I could lose weight (I would gain and lose for most of the year).

The relationship I have with my therapist is unconventional. Today, I finally saw her after months of not seeing her. She dressed my 3 ft bear with a birthday hat and a card. The card was a goofy one, as show in this post. But the words that she wrote really touched me. She called me exceptional, something I have never heard before. Unlike my father who said that I smelled. I didn’t shower today and don’t plan on it. I did way too much today and my ankle is thanking me kindly. And I still have my party to attend.

My therapist is someone who is very extraordinary. She goes beyond the limits of any therapist I have ever had before. I have had 12 before her so I know. She has always been there for me, at my worst times and is usually available for the extra session or two when I really need it or when I don’t want it. Though she is terrified of losing me when I bring up the “S” word, we work through her issues as well as mine. I finally had the idea of using a code word to tell her when she has become tense. There is a baseball on her desk that she keeps there. She knows I am a baseball freak so the word baseball would not in itself clue her in that I noticed a change in her demeanor. So I came up with “baseball on your desk” as the code word. In that process, my hope is that she gets ‘grounded’ and figures out that I can tell she is tense so I can be more comfortable being open to my dark feelings. It’s a process. I don’t know if it is going to work, but we’ll see.

This year has been tough. Not every month was a good month. I got hospitalized again this year because I was close to ending my life, again. I don’t think I will ever be free of wanting to end my life, and I know that one day I will succeed. But right now, it’s not on my mind. I just am letting the day be and hope to god that I don’t crap my pants today because of this damn cough I got. I am not living, I just am being a part of this thing called life, which I hate. I still don’t want to “be” anymore. But like I said before, I have commitments to people that I take seriously. I have responsibilities to my family, whether it is helping to pay for bills or watching my niece when my sister needs me to (and I am able to). I have “grown up” the past year, though it wasn’t an easy thing to do. I am learning to live on a fixed income, which isn’t easy.

I became more active on Twitter and met people close and afar. I have been involved in chat groups, something that I have missed since the early days of the internet. I follow my childhood idol, Wil Wheaton and his wife, Anne. I have learned just how geeky Wil is and how much his wife adores animals. Just recently, she rescued a pup called Lucy. She is only 10 weeks old and was malnourished. Anne found a good home for her and the pup is doing quite well. It brightens my day when I see a PUPDATE text on my phone (I have mobile notifications for both Wil and Anne as well as a few other members of the STTNG cast). Twitter has brought me to socialize on social media in ways I never thought possible and to expand my network, making new friends every day. Most of my Twitter buddies are therapists as I try to spread information about lived experience and my thoughts about suicide prevention. But I also have buddies that I follow for baseball and my beloved Buckeyes and Huskers. I follow them to keep abreast of new information. I don’t read newspapers so Facebook and Twitter are my news info. I just recently made 300 followers. I hope this time next year I have 400.

What also has been a life saver for me is my writing on this blog. I do it whenever I feel like it or when I have to express my feelings in a safe way. I doubt I would still be here without the blogger world support. A few months ago, I asked if I should keep the blog or shut it down after my hospitalization because I was getting negative feedback. The response was an overwhelming yes. I guess it is true that a few bad apples can spoil a good thing. I have tried to avoid these apples but they creep up every now and then. One blogger comment basically was begging me to kill myself. I have noticed that when my blogs are at the worst, is the only time s/he “likes” my posts.

I can write more, but I have a party to attend…my own! So if you are reading this and are struggling, hold on, there is hope!

oh what a day

by Midnight Demon, posted in bipolar, blogging, cauda equina syndrome, depression

Oh what a day

My PCP was 25 minutes late. That started my day just perfectly. When he came in, the appointment commenced just as I predicted. He poked and prodded my ankle and toes. Told me I needed to lose weight. Said that my back was muscular in nature and then handed my prescription for my pain meds for the month. He also tested my urine as I told him it smelled really bad. I don’t know why. I hope I don’t have a UTI.

Next appointment, I was a half hour early but I had forms to fill out so that is what I did. Fill out the same forms that I filled out at the other PT place. Wish they would get their shit together. Appointment lasted just about ½ hour. There was some confusion on what treatment to pursue. She said she would try the ultrasound but I still need to do the strengthening exercises, but we’ll start slow. I told her which ones made me hurt more and she seems like she is willing to work with me. Better than the other idiot. I then go for aqua therapy when the “dry” therapy is over in four weeks. We should know by then what is helpful and what is not. I am feeling hopeless about the whole thing. But at least it gets me out of the house a couple of hours. She doesn’t know if she will be the one leading the aqua therapy or if it will be someone else. After the appointment, I got really frustrated because she did nothing but evaluate me. I have to wait until next week to actually do something. My back was not happy with the evaluation. Anytime I had to move, I hurt. I just feel like giving up. I don’t know what the point of all this is. My ankle is not going to get better. But I will go through all the rig a ma role to see if it does decrease my pain some.

It’s going to be nasty out tomorrow. But I am driving the 30 miles to see my therapist. I just hope the car has gas or I won’t be going anywhere. And that will really suck.

My mood has been up and down all day. I was really hungry when I came home from my appointments and found I couldn’t cook anything because my mother was baking. I nearly had a fit. I hadn’t eaten anything all day because I woke up late. Well, really, I woke up very early (3 am) and then went back to sleep around 5ish. I just couldn’t sleep. So around 0430, I took some Ativan and hoped that I wouldn’t sleep through my alarm. I woke up about a half hour before it went off. I had to take a shower and get ready. I didn’t want to get out of bed because the pain was bad and I was groggy from the short nap. I knew that what was going to happen. I hope it doesn’t happen tonight. I need to be out of the house around 9ish so I can be at my sister’s work by 10. All of this is dependent that my pain isn’t through the roof and the roads aren’t icy like they say they are going to be. I am not driving 30 miles in slush!

I feel awful. I am tired and my stomach keeps giving me mixed messages about whether or not it is going to hurl, all because my throat is dry. I haven’t had anything to drink except for my latte and some water at the doc’s office. I didn’t drink anything with my supper because I just didn’t feel like making something or getting a bottle of water. I think I would feel sicker if I drank something. The cough is giving me dry heaves, which is why I don’t want to drink anything. I know that a little stuff will come up and I don’t want that. Fucking cough is so damn stupid. I didn’t cough once while I was at the docs then when coming home, I couldn’t stop coughing. So annoying!!