Tag: mental pain

Serious Pain 2

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

Serious Pain 2

Going on day 2 of not being able to move. Back has seized up making it difficult for any movement. This sucks so bad. I did okay going to my appointment until the last bus I was on stopped short and set off a pain attack. That was fun as I could hardly move to get off the bus. Then walking home from the bus stop took me forever because I was walking short strides, hunched back. I felt like an old crooked man walking down the street.

Well, I didn’t think it was going to be possible, but I am finally tired of listening to 1989 after listening to it straight for a week. I am listening to “Springsteen” by Eric Church right now. It is refreshing to listen to some old music.

This cold still won’t let me be. My throat is still sore and I am congested. Luckily, I haven’t moved to the cough phase of the cold and I hope I don’t as that will surely delay my back getting well.

I had a quick appointment with the NP today. I just told her I needed a refill on my pain meds and she briefly looked at my ankle and wrote up the script. Then she asked for a urine sample. Shit. I couldn’t go so I will have to give one on my next visit. If I had the time to get my coffee, I probably could have gone but there was no way I was going to waste spoons getting it while my back is out of commission.

I heard the verdict for the Ferguson case. I hope that people there stay safe.

I have therapy tomorrow and for once, I am glad that I don’t have to get out of bed to have it. I could barely get undressed when I came home this afternoon. I still am in a lot of pain as I am writing this. What is worse is that I cracked my back when I was getting in bed after I had my dinner. I don’t know how I did it. But man did it hurt. I haven’t been in this much pain since my before my surgery in 2006. I hope I didn’t do anything to my discs. I hope it is just a muscle spasm that will go away with rest and medication. But even though I don’t really do anything all day, it still is hard just to lay down and do nothing. Sitting while playing with my laptop brings me some pain but nothing like standing and walking does.

It was in the 60s today. I am really hot in my flannel PJs and want to change but that will require spoons that I don’t have anymore. So I am just going to stay in them with the covers off. I have to get my wedge to put my feet up. I know that will relieve the pressure on my back and take some off so I can feel a little better. But I don’t know if I can stand up again to grab it. I wish I had someone to get it for me, even though it is just a foot and half from my bed. I was able to reach it with my grabber!! Whoohoo!! I love this thing! It is the best invention ever!! Now I just hope that I can lay on my back with my feet up for the rest of the night. I doubt it because I am such a side sleeper but even if I rest with my feet up for a few hours, that should give me enough relief.

It’s getting late and I think I should be getting to bed. I don’t think I can sit any longer. So thank you for reading.

don’t call me daughter

by Midnight Demon, posted in blogging, psychache, suicidality, suicide attempt, transgender

Don’t call me daughter

Just recently, I was discharged from the hospital because of a suicide attempt. The self hate of being in the wrong body grew to unbelievable proportions. I hated my body, myself, my breasts, and my menstrual cycle. I just couldn’t take it anymore. The self-loathing I felt was unimaginable. I don’t know what set me off. That was one of the first questions I was asked when I was in the hospital but it was a cascade of everything in my life from being disabled to being transgender. I didn’t care anymore. I still don’t. I don’t want to live my life in a hole anymore. Sure, I talk about being transgender on my blog but my mother doesn’t know. She will NEVER accept me for being her son. And that hurt is what drives me to suicide. I’d rather die as her daughter than as her son.

Idiot PT guy

by Midnight Demon, posted in blogging, cauda equina syndrome, chronic physical pain, depression

Idiot PT guy

I went to physical therapy (PT) today. Guy did some strengthening exercises and they hurt like hell. I am icing my ankle as we speak to try and bring down the swelling and pain. We were talking after the torture and he thinks that he can strengthen my ankle. I just nodded in agreement knowing full well he was wasting his time. If I haven’t regained strength in my ankle after 13 years, I don’t think it’s going to come back. I did a whole lot of PT over the years and I just don’t see how this is going to help me. My foot becomes fatigued which leads to the weakness getting worse. I don’t know what he is feeling but even after all the exercises he did today, I was feeling fatigue and I could tell I couldn’t hold my foot up for very long. He kept telling me to lift my foot so I had to use other muscles to lift it. How is that helping?? I really think that he just doesn’t get what I am telling him. I am not hopeful that my strength is going to come back. We can continue to do the exercises but it’s only going to hurt me in the end.

I also had talk therapy today. I don’t know why I asked for another session tomorrow. I must be out of my head. She totally annoyed me today and I bet anything she is going to annoy me tomorrow. She gave me “homework”, which is to write a blog about how I value myself or something to that effect. She is wasting her time on me if she thinks that I am going to write some bullshit thing about me. I don’t know what she hopes I will gain from this exercise. I have no purpose or worth in my life. I am just a sack of chemicals. And I hurt physically more than I ever have in my life. I have no reason for living. Yet I still continue this existence. Why I don’t know. I am a coward. I would kill myself but I don’t have the energy to do it or plan it. I am just stuck and it sucks.

We talked about my book for a little while. I was telling her a high school friend of mine just bought a copy of it and thought my style was “nice”. I didn’t even know I had a style of writing. I also told her that my second book is troublesome. I don’t know what to write and I am such a condensed writer that for me to expand on something is painful. Just like the band that is around my foot right now. The PT suggested that I wear compression stockings and today I found the pair and am wearing it. It is hurting me so they are not going to last much longer. I am supposed to wear this knee to toe stocking to help decrease the swelling in my leg and ankle. I don’t know how this is supposed to help if the damn thing hurts me. Just doesn’t make any sense.

I have been trying to write about my experience over the past year that lead to my decrease in being suicidal. There are days I don’t think about it like I used to and then there are times I think about it all the time, but only for short periods of time. Not days on end like I used to think. And it is all because I became accountable to a person. She basically guilt tripped me into living. But now I have nothing to live for. My work is done. And I am supposed to write a book about it when I have no motivation. I am such a loser. I don’t know why I feel this way but I do. I guess the depression is overwhelming me and I can’t see nothing but gray skies. I feel so utterly useless.

Today as I was listening to Pearl Jam, I thought of writing a blog called “Don’t call me daughter”. Unfortunately, I didn’t have any writing pads with me so the thoughts kind of left me. They are there but I think I will have to listen to the song to write it out. I am too tired now to listen to music just to write. I just want to listen to my old country music on Pandora and relax. Going to PT really wore me out. And I hope that I don’t have mega pain tonight because of it.

I felt like this blog was too short so decided to add to it. I am feeling perplexed because I want to “please” my therapist but what she is asking of me is total bullshit and I don’t write bullshit. I have no value as a human being. I deserve to die. But things seem to keep me here. I have no responsibilities anymore, other than financial. But I am broke most of the time so who cares that I can’t pay a bill. I have 0.89 cents in my checking account right now. I am rich! NOT. And this is stressing me out. I hate November because there are a shit load of birthdays. My sisters, my godparents, my cousins. You name the person and they probably were born in November. I don’t even have money to buy these people a card let alone a gift. Every year is the same. I get gifts from these people on my birthday but I never give in return because I don’t have the money. It is a huge stressor on me.

Tonight, I was going through my blogs and found the post “when jupiter aligns with the crescent moon”. That was one of my psychotic phases. For weeks the voices were out of control and telling me what to do and kept repeating this phrase 24/7. It was driving me nuts. I don’t know if I eventually went in the hospital or not but I have never been that psychotic before. It got me thinking about how I am taking my abilify every other day because of side effects. I hope I don’t become delusional again. I don’t feel it coming on but the depression is driving me crazy. I am more irritable. My sister just told me my nephew wants to take his mother out for her birthday. I really don’t want to go. It’s like I want to stay trapped in my room all the time now. I haven’t left the house except for doctor’s appointments or PT. I don’t remember the last time I went to Starbucks. I think it was last week or the week before when I bought coffee. I hate being irritable and quick to anger.

Another thing the stupid PT guy said was that it has been a long while since I had foot drop. Well, damn, tell me something I don’t know. I still have scar tissue on my nerve root. He says that goes away in time. Really? Why does it still show up on my MRI? AFTER 8 years??? I also have bone spurs in my back. That is fun. Luckily they don’t cause me any discomfort. I really think that if I had another back issue right now, I will kill myself. There is no way I will be able to handle the pain.

So I left tonight’s chat…

by Midnight Demon, posted in bipolar, blogging, cauda equina syndrome, chronic physical pain, psychache, suicidality

So I left tonight’s chat

Don’t know if anyone that reads my blog knew, but a 29 year old woman with terminal cancer ended her life today, on her own terms. She basically committed suicide. It got me thinking about Robin Williams and why his death was not treated the same way. He was battling demons we knew nothing about and a medical illness that threw him off the ledge. I don’t blame him for killing himself. It makes me sad, but also makes me happy that he is in a better place than he was in. No one understands why I have such happiness for those who kill themselves. But for this woman, I am having a hard time feeling happiness for her. I am glad she chose the method of her death and she had free will and all. But a part of me doesn’t like that she was an advocate for choosing to end your life with dignity and she took it. So we lost an advocate and that bothers me.

Then I entered the SPSM chat that was discussing this. The current president of the AAS sends out a PDF of Shneidman’s 10 commonalities of a good death. That’s when my suicidality peaked for some reason. Then talking about how depression was a terminal illness just made me snap. I had to get out of the chat room. I could have just left without saying anything but I said something, that today’s topic is too triggering for me. I got some pleasant responses. Then I got a weird one that said that I should be kept abreast of the topic. I was like “Huh”?

I have no one I can talk to about this and so I just decided to write, like I always do when I am in distress or feeling intolerant of my feelings. It helps me to put perspective to my thoughts. I also have been terrified of crapping myself for the past few hours and it has taken it’s toll on me. I have decided that if I crap myself tonight, I am going to take all of my meds, every last pill that I have will be ingested. I have had enough of dealing with the indignity of crapping myself. I can’t live like this anymore. I am only 38 years old. I should be able to control myself but that control has been taken away from me. I am no longer an “anal” person, so to speak. It is draining me being this way. I could cry but why bother. Darkness envelops my soul. I feel like I should not live like this anymore. Isn’t it my right to die? I may not have “good” reasons. I just want to end my suffering, is that so bad? I have no purpose in my life. I have no responsibilities like I did before. The only responsibility I have is to clean my sheets or clean my room, which never gets done because I don’t have the motivation to clean. My mother takes care of the cooking and cleaning, though it kills her to do it. She cleaned the bathroom and it took her almost three days to do it. She did it a little at a time. And I have to do the same or my back goes out. But lately my ankle pain has been worse so I have been having a hard time standing for any length of time. I was given exercises to do to help do something but all they do is cause me pain. I stopped doing them because I hurt so much afterwards. I shouldn’t be in this much physical pain. I have tendonitis in all of my tendons on the outside part of my ankle starting from where the bone is to my feet. There is a tendon called the peroneous that wraps around the ankle and anchors into the foot. Aren’t I lucky that I have aggravated this tendon and the ones surrounding it. The docs don’t know why. But the usual course when they don’t know what to do with you is to send you to physical therapy, like that is the cure all. I am so sick of physical therapy and it hates me. My goofball swelling has returned and it is throbbing like no tomorrow. Yet despite this pain, I am not suicidal over it. I am more suicidal over the fact my bowels have taken a run for the hills and decided not to tell me when they are moving. Usually if I have gas, I know I will soon have a movement. But lately, the stools have been soft and when I fart, the stool comes with them. I have shit myself twice in the last two weeks, both times in bed. The first I was lucky that it didn’t leak onto my bed sheets as I was in bed at the laptop like I am now. The second time, I didn’t even feel myself shit. I just farted and thought that was that. Wrong. I got up and there was a yellow stain on my bed. Fuck. I was wearing black underwear so it didn’t show anything but my pajamas did. I feel like the biggest asshole on the planet. And if it happens again, I want to kill myself. I have stayed away from taking laxatives and fiber pills. Now I will have hard stools that will cause me to bleed but I don’t care. It might also flare up my nerve pain in my ass but I don’t care. That will be the least of my worries. I don’t want to shit the bed again, literally or have another accident. I am lucky I have my menses now so I am wearing a pad. But pads irritate my skin after a while. When I had my menses that lasted for more than six weeks, I thought I was going to go insane. And I was wicked irritated by my clothing (female underwear) and the pads. The elastic in the female underwear was digging into me after a while. I don’t know why. But even my boxer will irritate me after a while too, especially if I don’t shower on a regular basis. And I have been too depressed to keep up with hygiene. I just am a mess. But with my menses, I have been forced to shower nearly every day. But now they are showing signs of stopping so I might be back to my every two days routine.

I have been safe so far tonight with passing gas and not having friends with it but that could change at any moment. It scares me to think that I might shit myself again and not realize it. I bought diapers for when I go out. I refuse to wear them when I am in the house for fear of just wasting them. Thing is, I don’t trust myself anymore and that has been a hard thing to endure. I have gotten used to peeing myself more than crapping myself. No one understands this. No one really knows this, aside from my therapist. I haven’t seen my psychiatrist in more than a month because of my own mobility issues and now she is out of the office because she broke her hip. I miss her really bad. I also feel bad going through what she is going through. She said she needed surgery so that must have been a real bad break. We have been together for twenty years and this is the first time, other than her maternity leave, that we have been apart for an extended period of time. So I this weighing on me as well. I am set with my medications for at least a month. I hope she is back soon but I know that it takes at least 6-8 weeks for a bone to heal. She didn’t say how long she would be out for but my guess is that she will be back after the holidays. This so sucks. My demons are coming back and I don’t have her around to corral them back into outer space. My therapist can only do so much. And lately, we have been on the wrong page of things. I am getting frustrated with the whole talking on the phone all the time. She is ok with it, course she would love to see me in person but I don’t have transportation to go out to where her office is, which is 30 miles away. I am still trying to finagle getting my sister’s car one week and going out to see her but my sister has been so stressed lately that I don’t want to bother her with my needing her car.

Closing thoughts: I feel a little bit better since writing this out. I love having a blog that I can write my nonsensical thoughts out. I still feel ashamed about myself but I know it will go away in time. I hope it will anyways.