Tag: mental pain

it doesn’t take too much to be overwhelmed

by Midnight Demon, posted in blogging, depression, mood disorders, suicide, suicide attempt

****WARNING MIGHT BE TRIGGERING****

I didn’t mean to start off the day like this, I don’t think anyone does. But I am feeling miserable and when I am miserable I write. This darkness has invaded my soul. I am no longer a good person but just an empty shell off what was, if that makes sense. I haven’t had coffee and wouldn’t you know it, I forgot to order cream with my groceries? Figures. Guess no coffee today, unless I go to Walgreens and buy it when I pick up my prescription. I also need a case of water. I need to try and keep myself hydrated which I have not been too successful at, if my lips are any indication. My lips are wicked dry and chapped, like a desert. I never made my chamomile tea last night. I got too sleepy and wanted to stay in my nice cozy bed. I will have to change the sheets after I take a shower. It is going to suck as I hate changing sheets but if I smell, I know my sheets do, too. I don’t know why everything has to be a struggle. I am struggling to stay alive. Struggling to do normal living activities. It is just so overwhelming. I hate being overwhelmed. But then, it doesn’t take much to become overwhelmed.

I had my therapy session tonight with my pain in the ass therapist. It’s funny but today I was reminded that even though we have been working together for years and years she still fricken panics whenever I get into a suicidal state. It’s like the blog I wrote a few months ago, Mentioning of suicide, therapist panics. Instead of asking me what my story was that went behind my suicidal reasoning, she didn’t want to hear it. She just wanted to listen to my reasons for living, my reasons for dying, and what I was going to do to get me through the next four days until we talked again. It is the SAME THING every single time. Nothing changes. I can hear the panic in her voice soon as I divulge my plan. It’s like she cannot tolerate listening to it. I don’t know why it is. It makes me feel better talking about it. But she doesn’t want to hear it so I don’t speak of it. I keep it inside and I think that is where Mr. Hyde is born. Mr. Hyde is my suicidal part that like to come out and write suicidal notes.

Tonight I was reminded that my therapist is not Aeschi in the least because I scare her. I don’t mean to scare her. That is not my intention. But my suicidality freaks her out. I only have a voice here on my blog to talk about my suicidal plans and thoughts and feelings. You would think, that a therapist office would be the place to divulge this information but it is not. It freaks them out too much. Maybe that is why there are so many suicides. The talking about suicide doesn’t get talked about so the client feels more alone than they already feel. I think that if I was a therapist, I would want to know my client’s thinking about suicide and why he wanted to throw himself out the window. Maybe in talking about it, there would be some underlying thought process that could be explored and then, maybe the feelings wouldn’t be so intense. But my therapist doesn’t want to hear about it. She wants to know where it hurts but not really. It is too scary for her. Where it hurts is where I want to put the rope around my neck. Where it hurts is where I am hopefully dangling out my bedroom window. I want to know what it feels like to lose the oxygen to my brain and lose consciousness permanently. But no one wants to hear that part. She just wants to know that if I want to act, I will call her first or someone else or go to the ER. Those places will not help me. They do not want to hear my story. They do not want to hear my plan or know of my pain. They will just hear that I am suicidal and should be in a safe place for a few days and hopefully in those few days I won’t be suicidal anymore, like it’s a magic cure. They do not want to know the depth of my sadness, the depth of my pain, the depth of my intolerable despair that has come upon me with its unrelenting hold around my throat. I am being suffocated. And no one can see it. No one can bare it. So I say what is expected of me and move on to another session where the same things go on. I am not saying my therapist is a failure. She is not. She is just a person who panics with the mention of suicide like the rest of the world.

having a crappy crappy day

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

this is one of the few times I am not using word to type my blog before posting so if there are huge errors for the grammar police, I am sorry.

I have not done a single thing today. I was in bed for almost all of today. I just couldn’t bring myself to do anything. I need a shower. I need to brush my teeth, but I just can’t do any of that. I am just so depressed. I got it in my head that I don’t need therapy anymore and I have been trying to “sell” it to my therapist who is far from buying it. I successfully cancelled my appointment with her for tomorrow only for her to uncancel it because I have suicidal thoughts. I thought up a beautiful plan while I was in bed, in agony. My foo/ankle has been bothering me since the night before and other than cutting it off with a sawzall, I don’t know what I am supposed to do. I have been taking my pain medication around the clock and still have had no relief. So I started taking ativan too around the clock to try and make me chill. It has but I have not passed out like I was hoping to.

I am just sick of being in pain. No one knows because other than the four walls I trap myself in, no one else is around me that cares or listens to what I say. They still want me to go to the “top” doctor at this “top hospital” but I refuse because I am tired of seeing doctors. I am tired of them telling me (in an unspeaking code of course) you are fucked and I don’t know what the hell is wrong with you. But I don’t care go back to your primary so he can load you up on pain meds and don’t come back to my office because I have nothing to offer you. Physically, there is nothing wrong with my ankle, foot, or leg. They just hurt for some reason unknown to any of the 20 or so doctors I have seen. I might be exaggerating a little but I have seen close to twenty, in all specialties, from neurologists, neurosurgeons, podiatrists, physiatrists, orthopedists, you name it. All tell me nothing is wrong and that three have said that I have complex regional pain syndrome. Which to me is a vague for saying I don’t fucking know but we’ll call it this. There is no real treatment for this condition. Physical therapy won’t help. acupuncture won’t help. so I am just stuck living with this fucking painful diagnosis.

So that is why today around 5 pm, I started thinking about taking my life and shared those thoughts with my therapist hoping she would give me the ok to go ahead with it. NOPE. I got a session out of it and I am not happy about it. I don’t want to talk about it. I am done talking. all the words in the dictionary have been used up over our 13 year relationship. and a few more words that we make up and swear about. Today in the text message she actually swore and told me “fuck that shit.” it was in relation to me telling her we had no session but she didn’t want to hear about it.

I am tired of living. I have a friend in South Africa that is terrified of losing me because he reads these awful blogs I write. but they are my escape. I feel better writing them than I do actually acting on my feelings for killing myself. I know what I write is horrible. Now one wants to read it, well go to another “happy blog”. this is what it is like living with suicidal thoughts and if you don’t like it too bad. I don’t write things that are hopeful because I am not a hopeful person. Things sucks in my life and I have no control over it but what I do have control over is writing about how I feel. So if you don’t like it, there is the door. Don’t let it hit you on your way out. I am tired of trying to keep these feeling inside all the time. It wears me out physically and mentally. I know a fellow blogger friend is in the throws of this horrendous condition we call like and would gladly take it away in a heartbeat. I feel bad for her because I can’t really help her. I can listen to her and I guess that helps. I hope it helps. I just wish there was something more I could do to really help her have better days. But we have each other to get us out of the darkness and it is helping. It is nice to help someone going through the same shit that you are going through.

I recently declared on Facebook that I am not going to be on it much anymore. I am tired of the stupid photos that say share this if you lost someone in heaven, or the ones that show puppy mills or beat up dogs half starved to death. I hate seeing that shit. Yes I lost someone in heaven but I don’t need a candle every day to remind me of that loss. I want to unfriend all those idiots about dogs and cats being tortured. but then I will get the “why did you delete me” and I want to tell them, because you are a fucking idiot that is why!! I have a friend that posts stupid jokes all the time and lately she just has been royally pissing me off so she is going to be the first to go. I can’t take stupidity in an agitated state. I just can’t.

Think I will be going back under my warm blankets to try an escape the world…

distress intolerance

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

Tolerating distress

I have been in a bad mood for the past hour. I have been in wicked bad pain and it has me thinking of ending my life once again. It is after midnight my time and there is no one that I can really call that will really understand what it is I am going through. I tried reaching out to a few people but as it is a late hour, I got no where.

Then I thought about all the DBT bullshit that I have been through and thought I am doing this wrong. What if I am supposed to be feeling the distress as much as it is intolerateable? I don’t know if that is a word but it is the closest thing that I can think of to describe what I am feeling. The thinking is that if you tolerate the feelings you are better off. I am not sure how. Feeling this way sucks and all I want to do is get rid of it. I mean I am feeling this way only because my foot is killing me and there is nothing I can do except wait for the pain medication to kick in and give me some relief. Listening to my favorite playlist is helping me. I listened to Laura Branigan and her voice always soothes me. I thought about writing in my journal but I am not up to putting pen to paper just yet.

My AAS blog was just published and it started off with today I am in distress because I wanted to kill myself. Why am I still alive when I want so badly to be dead. I just can’t go through with it and it is killing me, being alive, and suffering so much. I know that if I were a dog or cat, I would have been let down already. Funny how we are more humane to animals than we are to humans. The reasons are many and I won’t get into it because I am just not sure it will help me calm down. Anytime I talk about hurting myself I get riled up. And when you throw in that humans suffer because it is, well, expected, it just pisses me off. Would you expect a person dying of cancer to suffer?? Or Parkinson’s disease or any other terminal illness? That is what irks me so much, I have a non-terminal illness and am expected to suffer and go about my life like it is not weighing me down. I hate being like this. I cannot tolerate it. So the hell with the distress intolerance bullshit. It is not helping me just making me wish that I was dead all the more.

chronic urge to kill myself

by Midnight Demon, posted in Chronic pain, chronic physical pain, depression, suicide attempt

It has been less than 24 hours since my last post. I really don’t care. I am in a lot of pain right now and soon I will be down for the count. I hate being in pain all the time. It started when I got to the kitchen to make myself a bagel. My foot cramped on the cold tile floor. I know I should have been wearing slippers but I wasn’t thinking. I had to go to the bathroom fast or I would have lost control of my bladder. Soon after my foot settles down, my calf muscle in the same leg decides to spasm up a little bit so now it is tight and I can’t stretch it out. I was going to watch the Red Sox parade on TV but I just took my pain meds so I will be knocked out soon.

People think that I am normal and that is what kills me. Most of the time I feel like I am normal until the pain starts and tells me otherwise. I cannot win. I wish I were dead. I wish I had taken my life back in August when I was supposed to. Now I am living and in pain and I hate myself for it. Those blue buildings are crushing me and I can’t keep myself away from me any longer. Time for a new plan and one that I can go through with. I am just so tired of being in pain every single day.

In other painful news, The book Team of Rivals that took me literally most of the year to read, I finally finished it last night. I didn’t cry like I thought I would. The author wrote almost ten pages to get to his death. Talk about being wordy. There were some good parts of the book. I wrote a review of it and sent it off to my writing partner for comment. I was harsh but then I really did not like this book. I read it because ten pages of it were based on the movie Lincoln. 10 bloody pages of the 800 page book!! Yes, just shoot me and even those pages were like, huh? That didn’t happen in the movie!! The book rushed the 13th amendment, Robert going into the Army, and the delegate meeting for peace. Ten pages! Really makes you wondering what the 790 pages were about…but This blog is not for book reviews that do not deal with suicidality. I just wrote about it because it was a very painful read, and that I read this book for something other than it was worth. Soon as I post the review on Amazon, I will tell you, for those that are interested.

I am off to dreamland again. I had an interesting breakfast of Oreo Golden cookies and a bagel. I will watch clips of the rally on twitter or TV. I am sure people will be posting pics on Facebook as well. There are more than 10,000 people already in Boston. I would have gone if I was healthy but I am not. I just have the chronic urge to kill myself and chronic pain to fuel it. This is the type of life I lead.