Today’s blog is a pain rant that is nothing but crap

I woke up in the middle of the night again, though I am not really sure why. I think my pain meds wore off and I woke up in pain but I don’t remember. I went back to sleep for a few hours until my med alarm went off. I took my BP med and then used the bathroom. I brushed my teeth and then went back to my room, where I almost fell asleep again. Luckily, I was able to shake off the sleepiness off enough to get dressed. My mother wanted me to throw the trash away and take the recycling down. I said I’d take one down and she said trash.

It was sunny out and the bus seemed to take forever. There was a kid that was very talkative to his or her mother. I don’t remember the sex of the child. I got to Starbucks and they didn’t have my favorite sandwich. I had to get one I didn’t like as much. I was feeling weird and didn’t know why. It was probably because I was late with my pain meds. I meant to take them but forgot.

I got to my appt. The new eye doc was okay. She wasn’t as friendly as my old one or as thorough. Even though there was a word I couldn’t make out with the different lenses, she didn’t take the time until I could read it. She said my vision changed a little and then gave me my new prescription. Whatever. I checked out some glasses. There wasn’t anything that really caught my eye. I found out my insurance will cover up to $150, so that was good. I will get my glasses there when my check comes in next.

Came home and my foot was smarting. I took my pain meds. I wasn’t wearing thick socks so my feet were freezing. It’s now several hours since I came home and my CRPS foot is still fricken cold despite wearing thermal socks. The pain has gotten steadily worse. By dinner I was limping again.

Hope tonight is not going to be another long night. I don’t think I can ever make up the sleep I have lost, even if I slept for weeks. I was talking to my friend in South Africa about the lack of pain care I have been receiving because of the stupid “epidemic”. He suggested that I emigrate somewhere that might be able to help me. I don’t know if I could leave the country. I have thought of going to Canada but that is only because of my fear of discrimination over being transgender. Canada is having their own problem with pain meds so I won’t be able to go there. A few of my Canadian friends are not being helped. I wish they would break down the damn overdoses to what they were exactly rather than lump them in a fucking opioid category. If heroin or fentanyl is what killed them, that is what the OD should say. Just pisses me off.

surviving depression 23 June 2006

June 23, 2006

I know what you are going through. Sometimes I think that everyone would be better off without me. The only thing that is keeping me alive these days is my word to my therapist that I won’t go through with my thoughts. The pain of living is just too much to bare right now. My therapist often asks me how I get through this. There is a quote that I keep telling her that I got from one of Kay Redfield Jamison’s book, “Only one option left, to suffer”. She is my inspiration as she has bipolar disorder, tried to die by suicide, and is one of the leading researchers/teachers of the disorder. I know it doesn’t make sense to suffer all the time but millions of people out there do it everyday. We few that are in this group do it every day, though it is most difficult and we come from different backgrounds and sections of the world. I know it sucks, but the trick is to realize when we feel this way, it is NOT our true selves, it is the disorder that is talking. I know we all feel like scum of the earth for no reason other than for being allowed to breathe, to be something called alive that we wish we didn’t have to be. One reason why I have read so much about depression and there are a lot of good books out there, is that you have to know the disorder, understand it, then you can know what to do, sometimes when it isn’t hitting you on the head with a 60 lb hammer. Sometimes knowing the demons is better than not knowing them. I know that it isn’t always easy when our physical bodies wreck our lives and we are no longer feel apart of the human race because our b&b are not functioning and we have physical pain that is driving us insane. But things aren’t always going to be this way. One of the books that I had read said that suicide is complete in 10 minutes and if you wait out those ten mins, you will survive. The same thing goes for depression. Though instead of 10 mins, it’s more like 10 days or more. But it doesn’t last. Eventually it lifts, and we return to “normal” functioning until the next episode. The HARDEST part of this fucking disorder is that we forget that we have survived the worse of it. Every time we are stuck in an episode, we think it is for the first time, that we are NEVER going to feel better, ever. I am telling you that you are. No matter how hopeless you feel right now, tomorrow might be a better day and if it is not, least you survived today. Worry about tomorrow, tomorrow I’ll be here for you. Count on it.

About the mood stabilizers, I suffer from bipolar depression, which is a little different than major depression. I sometimes have periods where I am really hyper, don’t sleep, eat, think I am on top of the world, talk excessively, and can’t stand still. These periods don’t last too long, maybe a week or two, then I either have a period of being normal and/or crash big time. I take Trileptal for it and it has helped some with the Cymbalta. Trileptal is an anti-convulsant that is used a “mood stabilizer”. There are other drugs that are used, but you should be seen by a psychiatrist for evaluation. Most GP’s don’t have a clue about psychotropic meds and it isn’t a good idea for them to play around with it if you don’t have the diagnosis.

Fear of suicide (revision to blog of 6 Feb 2013)

Fear of suicide.

This statement can be taken one of two ways. The first is that some people are afraid to talk about suicide for fear of sparking ideation or thinking about suicide. The second is that when
someone knows you are feeling low and have attempted before, they are afraid of losing that person and react in ways that may or may not help that person. Suicide attempters are at higher risk than non-attempters.

I’ll talk about the second interpretation first. I have a friend who is having me motivate her into
writing by having me contact her every day for six weeks. What sparked this was, she read my blog about my recent near-suicide attempt. Now her ulterior motive is to keep me alive the only way she can think of, by having me write to her every day. In return, she has to write at least two pages a day for her own well-being. She needs my help to pursue her writing, which is important to her more than anything. We are also guarding a human connection that is valuable to us. My writing keeps me alive, and because she doesn’t want to let me down, that helps her to write. She has this idea that people need human connection in order to stay connected to what they truly need to do, even if that connection is between polar opposites. She is bubbly and athletic, a motivational speaker, while I’m someone who is in chronic pain and disabled because of it.

I have to say that since I have been writing, I have been in better space. I would not say that I feel more connected, but I don’t want to let her down, so I try and write a little each day. Our rules are to email each other when we are done, and we are allowed our birthdays and Christmas off. For days where it is not possible for me to write because of whatever reason, we have given each other three passes on writing. Sometimes, because my pain or sleep deprivation is intolerable I find that it can help me be creative and write about things. I don’t have a censor when I write. Whatever I think at that moment, I write it out. Sometimes I find that writing it on paper helps more than writing in a word document.

I sometimes feel exposed because I am bearing my soul to this person I met through a friend on Facebook. We both belong to the same organization for suicide prevention. I am guessing that because she thinks of me as a sibling, and she did lose her sister to suicide many years ago, she does not want me to end up that way.

I write often because it is an outlet for me and my emotions. I am anonymous when it comes to my blog but not too much, as I pass these blogs on to my personal Facebook site, where my family members can have access to it if they were inclined to read it. Most often they do not because they are not online as much as my other friends are. I do not tell my family what I am doing. It would be heartbreaking and awkward for them to read what I write and then get asked at the dinner table what I meant by something I wrote. To be honest, half the stuff I write about, I forget. It’s an outlet like no other.

I am not going to lie and pretend that I don’t think about killing myself every day. It is a constant struggle, and I think that I worry a lot of my close friends who actually get to know me or who read my blogs about my struggles. But I think the reason why my blog has been so successful is because people can relate to what I write.

As far as the fear that talking about suicide can bring about a suicidal crisis, that is a common myth. Talking about suicide can actually prevent one, but some people are just not comfortable with the subject, and so they will say stuff that they think the person who is miserable wants to hear, like. “You have your life ahead of you,” “Don’t be so down, things could be worse,” or my favorite “You have so much to live for.”

People don’t understand the pain that is involved in depression or in thinking about suicide. I have problems. Quite a few. I have mental illness and chronic physical and mental pain. Both make me want to take my life. I have been thinking about taking my life since I was 8 years old. I was in a lot of pain for some reason or another, and it never got taken care of. Today, I think that pain stems from the fact that I am really a male and not a female. I knew at a young age that I was different, and back then, there was no expressing how I truly felt. I really think that if I had gotten help sooner, this would have come to light sooner, and I wouldn’t be in this pickle today about what to do with my transition.

I’ve started a new journal. And like every other journal before it, the first thing that goes into it is my crisis response plan which is the following (taken from the Air Force Guide to Managing Suicidal Behavior-Appendices)

When thinking about suicide, I agree to do the following:

Step 1: Try to identify my thoughts and specifically what’s upsetting me
Step 2: Write out and review more reasonable responses to my suicidal thoughts
Step 3: Do things that help me feel better for at least 30 minutes (examples can include trying to sleep, playing internet games, listening to music, etc.)
Step 4: Repeat all of the above
Step 5: If thoughts continue or get specific, and I find myself preparing to do something, I will call a suicide hotline or someone that I trust sometimes hotlines aren’t so helpful but calling a friend is
Step 6: If I cannot reach the above, I will call my therapist or psychiatrist
Step 7: If I am still feeling suicidal and I don’t feel like I can control my behavior, I will go to the ER or call 911

I have found having this useful when I have been hospitalized because it provides a plan of something that they need for discharge, and I always carry my journal.

LGBT appt and other things

LGBT appt and other things

I woke up early this morning to see the LGBT doc. I was nervous about it. I got there and I had to have them change my name. I thought I had my insurance card on me and I didn’t. They had the right info though so didn’t need it, it was just my name that needed changing. I liked the doc. He answered my questions and said that because I had a history of bipolar, he needed to talk to my psychiatrist and therapist. He also said that it will be a few appointments before I get started on hormones. I already figured that. He said that testosterone might increase mania. He asked if he wanted to transfer my primary care there and I was hesitant. I told him I was on pain meds and he said he had no problem taking over. I am not happy with my current PCP so I took a chance and said okay. Now I got to let my PCP know he is fired.

I have an appt with the new doc in seven weeks, which is more than what my pain meds would be for another refill. I would have to keep my current PCP a little longer. I see him the week before the appt with the new doc so I will tell him I am planning on transferring then.

I have been in so much pain since I came home. Because I was up early, I have been trying to sleep but dammit, half my ankle and foot go berserk every time I lay down. The last time, the pain was so painful and indescribable, I just started crying. The pain then caused my shin muscles to cramp up. I needed to get the heat pack and of course my bladder forced me downstairs because it had to be emptied. My mother was in the bathroom so I had to go down another flight of stairs to use my sister’s bathroom. There was no way I could hold it long. When my bladder says it is time to go, it’s time to go.

I hope I am not up all night in pain. I am so tired of sleepless nights. I might try finishing the baseball book. I just don’t know if I have the brain power. I feel so foggy from being sleep deprived. I think tomorrow I am just going to rest. I am not going to do a damn thing. I’ll try and change my sheets Sunday. I might make the zucchini bread then too. I don’t know. I know that anything I do gives me pain. A member of my support group says I should walk when in severe pain. OK. That doesn’t help me.

When I came home, it was freezing in my room because it was windy out. I had tried to nap but the wind was so bad it was rattling the doors in my room, and they were closed! It was scaring me so I had to close the window. Now my room is hot again. My foot has now gone from indescribable pain to burning. I really don’t want to take the Neurontin because I think it causes dizziness the next day. I don’t know why it is causing this now as I have been taking it for years. I only took 600 mg last night. I usually take more.

One thing that stands out from the LGBT doc is that he asked me if I had any Narcan. It is a drug used to reverse the effects of opioid overdose. I told him I was never prescribed this med. He said he would as I could accidently overdose. Although I have often felt like taking a handful when my pain is bad, I don’t take more than I should. I take my two tabs every six hours or so follow by the strong pain pill if I need it a few hours later. I am very careful with my meds, all of them, not just the opioids I take. The only med I might take more of is the Neurontin. But I haven’t been doing that lately because my appetite is out of control the next day. I have also gained a lot of weight the past two months. I hate it. I feel so yucky. I hate myself for letting myself get so fat. I’ve been trying to cut back but there are days when I only eat one meal and then there are days where I am always hungry. I can’t win with these meds. The testosterone might cause weight gain too. I don’t know what I am going to do about that. It could just be more muscle than fat but in my mind, more weight just is an issue regardless. It’s not like I can go to a gym and workout. I would love to go back on a treadmill or even walk to the train station like I used to as either one is about 1 mile from my house. I really miss walking. If you are abled bodied, please don’t ever take walking for granted. You never know when it will be taken away from you.

Another twitter rant on suicidal thoughts

Another twitter rant on suicidal thoughts

Severe pain is an apparent suicidal trigger for me as I am sure others with Chronic Pain are too. In that moment, you just want to die as you don’t know if relief is coming or not. With CRPS, pain changes. Bone pain could become foot pain. It is never ending. Suicidal thoughts are fluid in people with chronicity. I can feel it for a few minutes to hours to days. It just takes a spark to ignite. Add hopelessness and the longer it lasts. If I feel trapped, I start planning my death. Sometimes I will give myself a date. Having that date comforts me. I can act on that date if I am still as intensely suicidal as I was in the moment of planning my death. Otherwise, the day passes like an ordinary day. Tonight I just had the passing thoughts of death and intense feelings of Joiner’s interpersonal theory of burdonsomness, better off without me feelings. I still don’t know why I am still here. I don’t wish to be. Guess I am just a coward to act. I have felt intensely suicidal a lot. I’ve given myself so many dates it is not funny. I fantasize about my plans and going through with them. Yet I am still here. As long as I have the fantasy of death, it keeps me here. It is a great escape, especially when pain keeps you from moving. Hopelessness intensifies the suicidal feelings more than being depressed or sad. I don’t have to be depressed to think about killing myself.