thoughts floating around the brain

Thoughts floating around the brain

I took a nap that was longer than I wanted to take. Now I am having trouble sleeping. I am not in a super amount of pain, but just enough to let me know it is there, like it always is. I really didn’t eat much today and I probably should eat something but other than my frozen burrito, I don’t know what to have. I would have cereal but the milk sometimes upsets my stomach. If I am able to afford groceries next week, I will get some almond milk or soy.

I am feeling guilty that my psych feels she needs to keep tabs on me. She wasn’t judgmental about what I wrote to her nor did she panic like I knew some mental health professionals might. She has known me for a long time and I think she knows that even though I get really suicidal I haven’t really acted on it in years. There may have been a few occasions where I have taken one too many doses of things that I told her about that usually lead to a hospitalization or the tone of an email that signaled to her that things were not right with me. I told her how the meds are messing with my cognitions around writing. It is rare that I am writing at this hour (just before midnight) but then this is blog isn’t called “Midnightdemons” for fun. I write around or after the midnight hour.

With technically yesterday being my anniversary of my blog, I really started thinking about what this blog means to me. It has always been my outlet to either share information about suicidal research papers or books that I think maybe helpful. I am not sure if there are any clinicians that still follow my blog as I have turned this more into a chronic pain/depression blog but still talk about the daily chronic suicidal feelings I have. There are some days that I have no idea how I got through them and even if you asked me, I have no answers. I know when I got really suicidal back in May and there were two nights where pain was really bad that I had wanted to act on my feelings in the worse way. I just kept holding out for daylight because then I knew I would be okay but those nights were long and how I was able to get to sleep before those daylight hours or close to it, I am not sure. My psych has been there more for me since my therapist of 16 years left me two years ago. She has been my only rock and continues to be because therapists don’t tend to stay in my life that long. I have no idea how I lucked out with her. I truly don’t. And if she has a reason for that, she hasn’t told me.

There was a lecture that someone posted about psych meds and whether people with chronic mental illness needs to be on them long term as they don’t really know if they work the way we think they do. But there is that medical model of trying to “cure” and to do something to alleviate suffering. Some people will say these medicines have saved their lives. I used to believe that but now I am not so sure. I don’t want to be on them but I know what my life is like off them. I really want to get off the antipsychotic I am on but it took a really long time for me to find something that helped keep the delusions, paranoia, and “bad” voices away. I still have two or three that are my “normal” voices and the one that “reads” to me while reading a book or something. Without this “reading” voice, I cannot comprehend the words on the page. I can read the words but they make no sense to me. I found that when I was on high doses of trilafon, it stopped all my voices and I literally couldn’t function. It was around this time that I had to consistently take an antipsychotic. The voices just got worse as I grew older and with it, took longer to control. I don’t have side effects from this drug but I am just wondering if the Ativan is what is keeping those side effects at bay like it did with the previous one I was taking.

The lecture was interesting. I didn’t finish watching the whole hour and half but just got the gist of what it was all about. It is on youtube though I don’t remember the name of the video.

My pain hasn’t been horrific the past day and a half, which is kind of freaking me out a bit. But because it hasn’t been, my suicidality has been lower than it has been the past few weeks. These breaks are welcome because being highly suicidal all the time is just a dangerous place to be in. Even though I was hospitalized for three weeks in May, I didn’t give up my plan on how to end my life. That is still ongoing. I am just finding that I keep getting closer to acting on it with each flare that I have as the pain just makes me feel so hopeless and I want to escape from it so bad. My psych knows that pain is the principle driver in my suicidality. She understands it, maybe not all of it, but she validates what I go through, which is more than what anyone has done for me regarding it. I am not sure if the therapist will. We are still learning about each other and how she can help me. But it will take some time before that happens. I don’t know if she will ask how my suicidality will be from here on out or if she will just go with it if I don’t bring it up. We haven’t made any plans surrounding it and she hasn’t even said to reach out to her if I am in trouble so I am again not too trusting of her, least not yet. I tend to keep my suicidal stuff private with people. Sure I write about it here but how many people that I interact with read my blog on a daily or semi-daily basis? Some people don’t even know I have a blog unless I tell them. I feel like I have to keep my suicidal thoughts private because I don’t want to end up in the ED or hospital every time I bring them up. That doesn’t help me. In fact, it will just piss me the fuck off, and that is the last thing you should do when you are suicidal.

exhausted just from doing little things

Exhausted just from doing little things

I had a hard time sleeping last night. Pain was part of the problem. Every time I got comfy my foot decided to scream in pain, no matter which way I moved it or had it placed on the pillow. It would settle down and then when I did fall asleep, it would wake me up a few hours later. So around 2 or 230 I took some melatonin. I slept till around 7, took my morning meds and fell back to sleep around 8/830. I only woke up once but then went back to sleep. Then someone called me and that woke me up. It was my eye doc. I have been trying to see if one of the other docs can redo my eye exam because I wasn’t satisfied with the doc I saw a few weeks ago. I had a hard time seeing out of my right eye where everything was blurry and the doc just rushed through the exam, not taking the time to make sure I did see clearly. It pissed me off.

I got up and decided I needed coffee. I had to make it using my French press as I am out of iced coffee. I thought I could make it but it didn’t come out good. I think I didn’t use enough coffee as it tasted weak. I know for next time. I made something to eat while half a sleep. I kept going back and forth in the kitchen getting things while making sure my eggs didn’t burn. I made my egg burrito as that is all I want to eat these days.

After I ate, I decided to shower. It is cool today with low humidity. Not going to be like this tomorrow so I took advantage of it. I showered and shaved. I got razor burn on my armpits. I hate that. My back didn’t give me too much grief but when I came back to my room, I was fricken exhausted. I want to go back to sleep but fear that will make things worse for the night. I weighed myself in the bathroom scale. It said I lost five pounds. I didn’t think that to be right, though this is the second time it has said this. I used my digital scale when I went upstairs and I guess it was close. I was really only two pounds less than what I was last week. My eating hasn’t been consistent. If it hasn’t been for the burritos, I probably wouldn’t be eating at all.

I am feeling pretty numb. I guess that is a good thing for right now as I got so much on my mind. My mother asked again how my room was coming. I wanted to blow off on her but I told her I threw my back out last week and I wasn’t going to do that this week. She said I hadn’t been using the bins I bought. Well, duh. I haven’t done anything since Friday and I don’t really plan on doing anything this week. I really don’t want my back acting up again because I have four fucking appointments next week. I am going to try and see if I can move up my pcp appointment to an earlier time just so I will have time to see the therapist without a problem.

Got a notification from WordPress. Today is my 7th Anniversary of this blog. I have come a long way since the early days of my writing on here. Sadly, depression and pain has slowly take the joy out of it but I still try and crank out a blog when I need to or when I don’t want to (that is always harder). Today will be the second day in a row in a long time. I need to get back into a routine of writing again but it is so hard when dealing with chronic pain that just saps your energy and brain cells. There have been days I want to write but just cannot for the life of me get the words out. I hardly am writing in my journal anymore for the same reason. Sometimes, if I have time, I will write in my day journal at Starbucks but most of the time I am on my phone, drinking my coffee and then be rushed to leave because I have been misjudging time so much. Plus the bus take a little longer to get to the station because of the detours. Getting home has been more difficult than going out, even though I have two buses at the Square now. The schedule sucks big time and is worse on weekends. By the time I do come home, I don’t want to do anything. I barely want to eat or drink. I just want to rest in the cool air. I am just exhausted and sometimes it will only be 3pm. I need a nap so will stop here for today.

got to keep tabs

Got to keep tabs

Last night I was in a rough spot again. Pain had been bad yesterday, so bad that I dissociated on the way home. One minute I was at North Station and the next I am at the pharmacy. I have no recollection of how I got there. Pain was too intense I didn’t even have a number for it. All I know is I felt myself floating above me the whole time since leaving the brace eval to get my AFO adjusted. They adjustment felt good except the figure 8 strap that goes around my ankle to keep my foot in place. It is annoying the sensitivity I have in that area. Pain kept on going higher, I would dissociate, it would go down and I would be suicidal.

I sort of noticed a change with the way the pain happens. Intense pain would hit and I would become suicidal. Next time it hit, I would then plan on my escape because the pain was so unbearable and life was not worth living, at all. With this change, the urge to act is getting stronger. I realized last night it would be only a matter of time before the intense pain would hit and I would act on my urges if I had the means to do so. I had emailed my psych about the dissociation and how I either was going to pass out from pain and instead dissociated. I honestly have no idea how I got home, I wrote to her. Then to make me smile, the zoo I follow for giraffe pics showed the newest giraffe, Azizi, who turned four months old yesterday. She wrote back saying she didn’t know I liked giraffes.

Later that night, I thought I would reply to the email and then tell her the situation with the means and how close I am to acting on it when my pain is out of control. I have no real stop gap measure other than to email my doc like I have always done. Sometimes I will page her if I need to but I am not sure the pager is working and because most of the time this happens at night, I don’t want to call her late. I was hesitant in sending the email and I told her I would be meeting with the therapist today. I had no idea if I would be able to tell her this stuff. I get scared when talking to new therapists about my suicidality because some of them just don’t know how to deal with it and just send you to the ER. Around 2 am, and reading the email a fourth time, I sent it.

I didn’t have a response when I woke up so I figured she had read it but wouldn’t respond to it. I woke up late, like literally have to run out the door to catch the bus late. My bowel can always be counted on to stop the rush, which meant I couldn’t wash my face or brush my teeth. Seeing as yesterday I had somehow had a piece of shit stuck to me for hours I couldn’t fucking feel because of CES, I made sure I wiped good and pushed to make sure all the shit that was going to come out, did. Today turned into shit day as by the time I got to the bus stop, I was needing to go again. I wasn’t going to miss the bus because that would mean missing my appointment. There were no other buses coming for another hour which sucks. My stomach settled down a bit by the time I got my espresso. I didn’t have time to eat something. I got to the train station and had to go when I got to the hosp. I had a half hour before seeing the therapist so plenty of time to hopefully empty my bowels. Was not the case because by the time I got to the building where the therapist was at, I had to go again but there was no time. Luckily I was able to hold off the whole session without having to excuse myself.
The session went ok. We talked more about CBT and I showed her the book I wanted to lend her. She said her reading time was limited so she didn’t want to take the book. She asked what was specific in the book to work on and I said the CBT stuff was over my head as there was very little I knew about it other than the basics, which after 25 years, I barely remembered since psych 101. She explained and we went over things. I told her I needed a stop gap measure between the intense pain leading to suicidal thoughts that lead to planning and is leading up to acting. She had some coping stuff like putting an ice pack on the back of my neck. I could do that. I actually had that during one of my hospitalizations when I was in really bad shape. Somehow we discussed the crisis response plan that I have in nearly all my journals (only exception is the night journal I am currently. I don’t have it there because there is a strap and I am scared some idiot in the hosp, should I bring it, will treat it as a safety issue and take it away from me). She said this was good. I said yes it is but I need to be held accountable to actually using it because I can skip the steps and go right to crisis mode, which is calling my contact or my therapist/psych or even going to the emergency room. Plus, I don’t think I am ready for it as I get too overwhelmed to think about writing alternatives to my suicidal thoughts. I said the “stepping back” might work for me, which I have been trying. It hasn’t been easy but I try. She did say a lot of the stuff is going to be based on how much I do. Hence why I have avoided CBT for the longest time. I sort of want a quick fix and sometimes just talking about things is that fix except when I don’t get validated for what I say.

On my way to my appointment, my psych emailed me. When I was riding on the train, I got to read it. She said she wanted to talk and would call me in the late afternoon. I said that is fine as I should be home by then. She called a little after 1900. I gave her a brief update on things. Told her I have been having a hard time keeping up with my blog. She said that was okay as I didn’t write every day. I told her it is now more than that, like 4 days or so before I write. I told her I haven’t even been writing in my journal. I have stuff to write but nothing is coming out. She seemed kind of worried about this but didn’t say anything. I told her about the means and how I plan to have someone hold it for me. I just need to figure out logistics. She asked if we can talk next week. I said okay. That is when she said she needs to keep tabs on me, in her professional “motherly” voice. I said don’t you always?

Pit of Doom

Pit of doom

I didn’t think it was that long a period between blogs but I guess I am writing every 4 days or so. I don’t like it but some days it is so hard to get my thoughts together. I am missing the hell out of my psychiatrist even though it has only been two weeks since I last saw her. We have been keeping in touch through email but it isn’t the same thing. I went through the email communication while she was out during her hip surgery and it was torture. I didn’t see her for about 3 to 4 months while she was recovering. I seem to be emailing her at least twice a day, more if there is a response. I just miss her so much.

In the meantime, my mood has blackened. The suicidal mood that I was in in April seems to have returned. It isn’t quite as deep as it was then, but it is slowly getting worse. I am 100% sure the stress of being home and arguing with family nearly every day or every other has significantly contributed. I honestly don’t feel like I am wanted yet I am expected to do things even though my pain is through the roof. Sunday my youngest sister, who I thought was on my side, came up and put my clothes in the bin it was on top of, all without asking first. I did not want them in the bin because I do not want them smelling like plastic. She said she would throw in some dryer sheets. I got so pissed. I sarcastically thanked her and said it is going to hurt my back bending to get my clothes. She said I was being mean and to use my knees. Then she tells me to live my life, storms back up here and puts my clothes that were in a neat pile before, out of the bin in a messy fashion. I was in tears the whole fucking day as my pain just went through the fucking roof I was so upset. Later that night she calls me and I didn’t answer. She calls me a baby and tells me to be an adult. I say you tell me to live my life then call me a baby? Then she goes on about how living in a “mess” is unhealthy. I say I am not dead yet, nor have I been seriously ill. She then calls me selfish and I say good night. We haven’t spoken since. Last night they were having another argument with my mother, and again my fucking middle sister said to my mother “she wasn’t getting younger”. I have no fucking idea why the hell she is obsessed with age. She is 11 months younger than me and says she is old. WTF. I don’t get it. I do not like the fact they have my mother’s bedroom at the far end of the house while every one else is not near her. Something happens to her, we aren’t going to know till morning. How the fuck is that fair. Her sugar was low Saturday night and she came in my room. I was up because I had used the bathroom and couldn’t go back to sleep. She is supposed to navigate with a low sugar to get help or to the kitchen?? Obviously they didn’t plan this out or think this through.

Last night I was in a dark mood. I wrote a draft of what I wanted to say to my psych. Then sent off another email around midnight as I was in so much pain with my back and ankle I couldn’t sleep and was thinking of ending it. I have been slowly doing stuff in my room and it is costing me big time. I bought 6 bins to put my stuff in. I wanted to do stuff yesterday but all I got done was making space for one bin when I wanted to clear my bed so I could change the sheets. I had spilled Gatorade on the bedding so they need to be changed. I wanted to get it done today but I needed a shower, something to eat, and to pick up my meds. I actually had to go to the pharmacy twice because I forgot my ID at home. By the time I came back the second trip, I could barely make it home. I was sweating profusely, back and ankle kicked up two houses from mine, and I was kind of wishing I was fucking dead at that point. I had to change my shirt again. I wanted to jump into a cool shower but I don’t have the energy. Changing my sheets might have to happen Friday, if I don’t have to go to another pharmacy for my pain meds. Maybe I will go to a different chain this time. This new pharmacy always has problems with my meds every month since the other one closed. I am sick of it.

Back is so flared up my scar is hurting. I had to email my pcp to see if he knew of anything to help. He said maybe lidocaine. I have some lido patches so have been using that at night. It has been helping the pain but not the inflammation. I can’t use ibuprofen anymore because I have been getting flares of gastritis. I am on a PPI so I shouldn’t be getting the gastritis and having to use an antacid to settle my stomach. I switched from morning to evening and that has helped. I still don’t want to risk rocking the boat so am avoiding the ibuprofen. I just been taking Tylenol. Some times the pain med helps if the pain is severe enough but it is mostly muscle pain. I know I need to rest it but I got so much shit to do in my room. I thought every other day would be okay but nope. Just makes the pain worse and then I am out of commission for a week. I am just resting the rest of today. I had made a breakfast burrito so that should last me all day. I stayed in my room all day yesterday to avoid family. I didn’t go down to eat at all. I was going to when they had the meeting with my mother. I feel like my sisters are ganging up on my mother and I. All I had to eat yesterday was a protein bar and half cup of coffee. Think I might have had another protein bar before bed but my stomach was killing me so I don’t remember. I lost eight pounds in a week because of the stress. I either had no appetite or just didn’t feel like eating. I think last night’s stomach pains was hunger pains.

I am holding off on sending the draft to my psych. I have a tentative date I want to end things. I really don’t see the point of going on with the ongoing stress at home. I am trying to hold on to what she said of what I have to give to the world. A person on Twitter that I do not know had said the same thing. She had followed me for a while and said somethings that really made me think I mattered in what I say in my tweets, even if I don’t get likes or comments on them. A follower I know through the red sox said she found the courage to share her pain issues on Twitter because of what I write. It is so damn hard to continue living when you want to die yet know people out there, many you don’t know but know of you ether online or through social media, want you to go on despite you having no desire to.