Tag: psychache

A review and a Rant

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

This morning I woke up to two comments, one was on my blog and the second was about my book. The one about my book was from a fellow CESer (Cauda Equina Syndrome sufferer) who loved my book so far and had to tell me about it. I felt good that she took the time to write such a lengthy comment, but well worded. She said I was an inspiration and that she would be sharing my book with friends and relatives. She is British, so used the word brilliant a few times. I didn’t mind. It was the kindest review I have gotten in a while.

The second comment left me perplexed. Either the writer had no clue what my blog was about or was trying to talk ragtime. Either way, I deleted the comment because if I couldn’t make sense of it, neither could anyone else.

To my new followers, thank you for following me. My readership has exploded the last few days and I thank you for it. I hope you find this blog informative and relative to what you are experiencing, or at least helps you to understand what it means to be suicidal a little better.

I did not succeed in canceling my appointments with my therapist this week. I texted her my swollen ankle and some how that was reason to uncancel my cancellation. UGH. Won’t do that next time! Course, the reason why a swollen ankle would not cancel a psychotherapy session is beyond me. She still wants a signed copy of my book. She desperately wants me to come out there. I am still trying to figure it out but I haven’t been feeling well all week. Today, my allergies have been making me sick with gagging episodes. I really hate post nasal drip and it doesn’t help that my area has trees that are in bloom, that I am allergic to. And it’s chilly. Temperature has gone back down to freezing. I can’t believe it’s almost May and we still have the heat on. There have only been one or two days that have been above 50 degrees in the past two weeks. My back and foot hate the cold. I used to not mind it but when it causes me pain, I have to pay attention to it. I also have been in a lot of pain the past few days. And of course, all I want to do is sleep because that is what my depression wants. I forced myself out today, gagging and all, to get my prescription and a mocha. I am praying the mocha stays in my stomach. I just figured maybe, if I got some coffee, I would feel better. I am a little bit more awake but I definitely feel like I need a nap.

My cousin invited me over for dinner tonight. He is also going to cut my hair. The barber didn’t do a good job so it’s longer in some places and shorter in others. I know I should go back but I think my cousin can fix it. Besides, it has been a few weeks since my last haircut. I usually like it buzzed on the sides and back and then short on top. My cousin will likely blend it in with scissors as his regular stuff is at his shop. I told him I was looking forward to dinner but really, all I want to do is sleep. Screw the haircut and dinner. I don’t care. But I told him I would go so it is too late now to cancel on him. He is making me cheeseburgers.

My therapist was annoying today. She will ask a question, say how am I doing and then when I ask to clarify, she replies with three questions. WTF. I hate that! It gets me all jumbled up. So I just answer one of them. We were also talking about how there is a suicidologist that seems to be making headway with his Interpersonal theory on suicide. His name is Tom Joiner. I read his book, Why People die by Suicide? And it was good. His theory is valid, as I have been there but the one element he is missing is psychological pain. I have noticed since Shneidman’s death, no one talks about psychological pain anymore. I find it sad, really sad. But even with knowing about the perceived burdensomeness and thwarted belongingness, how do you go about “treating” suicidal patients? That is the one thing that I believe is lacking in his theory. There is no treatment for it, and that is where Jobes’s CAMS model and SSF (suicide status form) comes in. Using this is the best defense in preventing suicide. That is my belief. If I didn’t feel so strongly about it, I wouldn’t be writing about it. Because it helped to save my life and I know it has helped others. It is also a reason why I talk about it in my book.

stupidly depressed

by Midnight Demon, posted in depression

Despite feeling like shit, I forced myself to go out with friends tonight. It was good but now I am very exhausted and not looking forward to tomorrow’s appointment with dear old dad. If I liked his doc, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, but I just don’t like him. He rushes through everything and doesn’t leave you time to ask questions about things.

I know the depression is getting worse. Today I was writing with the same pen I always use and it felt heavy. Like suddenly it gained twenty pounds and I couldn’t hold it in my hand. It was so hard to grasp. It almost made me cry but I was in a very public place so I sucked it up. I really NEVER felt like that before. How can a pen suddenly feel heavy? Easy when you have a depression that makes you exhausted. I feel like emailing my psychiatrist but what is she going to do? I will page her tomorrow, or try to. I think I need to be back on an anti-depressant. Maybe remeron or something. Just to get me over this hump that I am in. Maybe it will help decrease the constant suicidal press that I feel.

I emailed my writing friend for some spiritual help with my dad. I am not a praying person but she is so I asked her if she would say a prayer for him. I know he will never be 100% again but if his swelling goes down, I will be grateful. I know one prayer might not work but at least if I have some one that cares about him, maybe it will work. If that is how things go. It’s hard for me to pray because I never go to church anymore, unless it is a wedding or a funeral. And the last time I was there, for my aunt who passed, I was too overcome with emotion to really pray for anybody.

I don’t know how I seemed to have “slipped” into this depression. I could blame the Sox as they have sucked most of the season already but that is too easy. I just feel really down and I don’t care about a lot of stuff that I used to. I have a lot of things weighing on my mind, mostly financial things and how to afford my medication this month. I still have a month before I am on state care. But I haven’t even applied yet. I have been too lazy to think about it and it bothers me that I “forget” because this is so important.

I feel so bogged down in things. I don’t shower regularly. I don’t brush my teeth regularly. I don’t leave my room unless the house is on fire. I must stay in my room 20 hours a day, some for sleeping, most for doing stuff on the laptop or reading a book or writing. But none of that stuff interests me anymore. I have a new journal that I want to start writing in but I haven’t. I started a new book but I am getting frustrated with it because it keeps going back and forth with time. First it is in the 1840s then it’s 1860 and then back to the 40s. WTH. Move forward or don’t move at all. I know somewhere in there Abraham Lincoln becomes nominated for president, but they haven’t mentioned this at all and that is frustrating me! So I think I need to read another book. But what? I also need to write in my co-authored book but I have no mind for that while I am in this depression. I can barely keep up with my blogs. It is just that everything is overwhelming me. I just don’t know what to do anymore, what to do with myself anymore. I used to have a routine. I would have therapy and then I would shower and get dressed and then go to Starbucks for my coffee. Or I would just get dressed and head to Starbucks. Now I don’t even do that anymore. I shower just twice a week, if that. And that is, if I feel like it. Most times I don’t, so I procrastinate another damn day. Then I stink more.

And I don’t know what is going on with my bladder. I think I have an infection and I should get checked out but I just can’t be bothered. Every time I want to call the doc, it’s after 5. Or it’s the weekend. I wish they could just call in a prescription over the phone so I don’t have to be seen but of course you have to pee in a cup to see if you do have an infection. Maybe that is driving me a little whacky. And the fact that it has been three days already and I still have not called in my refill for my blood pressure pill. More pressure for me to call because I am almost out of my meds. But I forget. I get distracted too easily. I really was going to call today but I was too lazy to look up the phone number of the pharmacy on the bottle. Yes, I was on the computer and could have googled the number. Why didn’t I think of that before?? I am stupid. Stupidly depressed. This is what depression is like. All your worries you think of but you are too strangled to make the phone calls you need to make or go to the stupid UPS store and get forms filled out so you don’t have to worry about your student loans anymore. But no, you just walk by the store, “forgetting” until you are at home again. Gosh I am such an idiot. I really need to buy a printer. I am going to save up for one. I don’t know how, but that is what I am going to do, if I remember to do it…

Don’t Feel Like Talking

by Midnight Demon, posted in depression, suicide attempt

Don’t feel like Talking

I have been reviewing in my mind the last few suicide “mini” attempts that I took over the past several months. I am wondering why I never called for help or called a friend. It wasn’t like I didn’t have a number for a friend I couldn’t call or a helpline or a chat person. I just was constricted into one way of thinking. I needed to escape and that was going to happen. It was my “only” way out. I think I slipped into Mr. Hyde and ran away from help. I couldn’t possibly think that someone would understand the amount of pain that I was in or understand that ending my life was the only way out of the mess that I was in. And it wasn’t truly a “mess”. I just wanted an out that I could count on.

My last attempt was last week. I wrote a blog about it and then fell asleep. While I slept off my drugs, at least three bloggers tried to get in touch with me through various ways. One of them found my personal email, which I am still wondering how in the world they got. I am glad I don’t have my cell phone listed anywhere or it probably would have been traced back to me. But since that happened, I have been scared to write. Scared because I don’t want the police showing up at my door. I have had that happen before and it wasn’t a pretty picture. It was terrible because even though I was in “protective custody” through EMS (the paramedics had already showed up and taken me to the hospital), the police and fire department didn’t know that so broke a window to get into my house. I was freaked out when I heard about this. My family was wicked worried about me. And that was all because I wrote an email to my psychiatrist. My writing has gotten me into trouble. So now I am scared that it will again. I have dissociative episodes. I barely remember sending the blog that night. I don’t even remember what I said, other than taking pills.

I don’t want to stop blogging. It has been a lifeline for me. But I also realize that I need to be more aware of my thoughts and feelings to stop the hurt before I take something lethal. Luckily, I only took a few pills. I didn’t take a bottle. But the question remains, why didn’t I feel like talking to someone before I took them??

I know of suicide prevention. I know of suicide assessments. So why didn’t I use them? I am not beating myself up here. I am just trying to understand what went on inside my head so that I can do something the next time this happens. All that I come up with is that I didn’t want to go to the hospital again. If I paged my psych and told her I wanted to take my life, I don’t think she would let me off the phone unless I had a plan with her to go to the ER. So that option is out. Luckily, through this recent episode, I found a fellow survivor that I can email. I hope that I can email her and talk freely about what I am feeling and what I want to do. That is if I feel like talking. That is the key…talking. To know one’s story. I feel like such a hypocrite because I wrote a book, published it, and then tried to take my life afterwards. Some survivor I am. I am totally unstable and I don’t think I will ever be stable. I told my therapist today, that if I had the chance, I would try again. I am just tired of living. SO DAMNED TIRED. I have nothing keeping me here. My protective factors are minimal. I don’t even know if they exist anymore. I mean, I love my family a little bit but I don’t feel connected to them in anyway. I just feel like I am this stranger that comes out of my room and says hi every now and then. I hardly go out anymore. My life is meaningless.

My therapist is so excited about my book that she doesn’t even want to read my blog anymore. Though my blog readership has hit an all time high lately. I should be proud of that. But I don’t feel it. I don’t feel anything. I am not interested in anything. I got my journal of Suicide and Life threatening behavior today and it didn’t even excite me. One of my favorite suicidologists wrote a paper in it. I should have been all over it but I wasn’t. I had no interest in what the article was about. I am too depressed to care about anything. And I don’t even talk to my therapist anymore. All she wants to talk about it my fricken book. I am done talking about my book. It just depresses me. And I don’t know why. I should be on cloud nine right now but I am not. Maybe I should go back on an anti-depressant. But I am so sensitive to them, they just make me sick. I hate this anhedonia I have been feeling. I hate that worse than the psychache that I have been feeling. I mean, how many times can your heart break and nobody know? Because depression is an invisible illness. No one sees it. No one else feels it. It’s all inside you. And no one feels like talking about it.

That’s what I do best

by Midnight Demon, posted in depression

As I am nearing my 700th blog mark, I am trying to think of something poignant to write. I still have a few days to really think about this.

I woke up really hungry this morning so made myself some pancakes. I don’t know what I did wrong, but they didn’t come out right. I think next time, I am going to omit the baking soda and see how they come out.

I cannot wait for tomorrow so I can order my books. I am still trying to finagle how to save money so I can ship them out. Right now I think I am just going to ship out the overseas as that will be the most expensive. I then ship out the domestic next month. I am really excited and hope that I don’t screw up my signature. I haven’t really been practicing. LOL. I just am really excited to ship out my book to Switzerland. I just hope I filled out the customs form correctly.

I finally made it out. I went to Walgreens and surprisingly, I paid less than one dollar. This was due to their rewards program. This is the second time that I have paid less than a dollar on more than three products. It’s pretty cool.

I am feeling depressed though I have no reason to be. I just don’t feel like doing anything. It’s going to Walgreens was a hassle. Was it a hassle in the sense of going there, but just internally of getting dressed, picking out shoes, and a hat. I just grabbed the first hat that was available to me and went out.

I told my therapist today that I felt like committing suicide. She couldn’t believe it. She was excited about my book and she can’t wait until I have it signed for her. I am hoping to borrow my sister’s car tomorrow but I don’t know how likely that is. It’s school vacation week and I don’t know if my sister is off of work but not. I don’t know why I feel so low. I know it’s mostly because I don’t have anything to occupy my thoughts. I don’t have any writing projects that I’m actively pursuing, nor do my games keep me occupied. She suggested I just go out and just sit at Starbucks to just write. But it’s hard to be in a coffee place, with no coffee. My funds for coffee have been depleted. So now I just have to make coffee at home and that is boring.

I am listening to Pearl Jam. I really like them when I am in a dark mood. It helps to ease my anxiety and make my mood less dark. I don’t know why I keep track of my word count. But I do. It kind of kills me because at one point I was able to write 1,000 word blogs and now I can barely write 500. Even my blog is becoming a hassle. Maybe I should be in the hospital to get a break from my life. I am suicidal enough. But I just feel like it will be a let down, that I won’t really get the care I need. I am not that bad, I don’t think. I know I took one too many pills last week but those feelings haven’t dissipated. I feel like such a failure and I don’t know why. My therapist was so excited to get my book. She couldn’t put it down. But I doubt she has read the full chapter. I think the hardest thing for me right now is that I have nothing to do and I don’t know what to do so I think about killing myself. Because that’s what I do best.