Tag: psychache

time and patience

by Midnight Demon, posted in blogging, mood disorders

Last night I was in excruciating pain. It was terrible. I emailed my psychiatrist that I was done. If my PCP wants me to jump hula hoops he has another thing coming. I am not buying into it anymore. I no longer care what is causing my pain. I know what helps my pain and that should be all that matters. He isn’t questioning my blood pressure medication. Why the hell is he giving me a hard time about my pain medication. I am sick of it. After last night, I swore to myself this was it. It’s the weekend so I can’t do a thing about it. My foot still hurts so I won’t be going out like I had wanted to. It probably would hurt me anyways.

I know I posted a lot yesterday and last night. I got the writing bug back so please forgive me. I have to express myself the best way I know how, by writing.

The President of the AAS posted an article about how the mental health care in the UK is going down the tubes. It’s been going down the tubes in the US for some time now. I know, I have been apart of the system. The hospitalizations don’t care about stabilizing you they just care if you aren’t going to hurt yourself when you leave. And then it is up to incompetent clinicians who don’t know how to deal with suicide and suicide ideation. Most don’t want to change their practice to the new system. Some won’t even attend a seminar about it. I think it has to be mandatory, statewide or they cannot renew their license. That is what I think. If they were to get into a program of CAMS or use the SSF I think there would be a lot less suicides out there for people that want help and this way here they won’t be turned down. But I don’t think there are enough clinicians to do the job. Graduate programs only have a minimum of five or six slots per year. That is a very small number for new clinicians. I also think there should be incentives to work with the population that most needs it. It’s all about triage. But can triage really work in the mental health system? Who is to say that the quiet kid in the corner who is hurting is not the worse off than the one screaming at the top of his lungs because voices are telling him they are going to kill him. I don’t have all the answers. But for those that want help should have priority over those that don’t want help. But unfortunately, those that don’t want help are truly the ones that need it the most. Those are the ones that will end up killing themselves. There is no easy balance. Everyone’s needs are different. And if you shy away from that person, you leave a bad impression about being cared for in that person’s mind.

In my case, if I stopped going to a therapist every time they left me, I would not be here. Sure, when that therapist left it gave me a bad taste in my mouth. But I knew I needed help and so I sought it out. Not every therapist is right for every person. Sometimes you have to go through several to find the one you can talk to the most and won’t be so judgmental, or feel like they are. It took me 11 therapists to find the one that I have been with for more than a decade now. It just takes time and patience to find that right one.

sixteen years

by Midnight Demon, posted in blogging, depression

Sixteen Years

Today is my niece’s birthday and I thought it would be a cool thing to review those years. A lot has happened during that time.
1998: I brought my niece into this world as I was part of the delivery team. She came into this world at 21:47. It was the happiest day of my life watching her birth. It made me happy, if only for a little while as I was still battling depression of sorts. I was working for thoracic surgery at the time at a big hospital in town. It was a busy place. Then my supervisor found out I was gay on Valentine’s day and that was the last week I worked for that surgical group. I then went to work, through a friend, at the next big hospital in town. I spent 14 years there, giving it my all only to be tossed aside when I could no longer perform my duties due to my physical disabilities. I learned a lot of things at this job. Mostly how important lab results are in the care of the patient. It might not be the sole key to diagnosis but it does help with patient care.
My favorite uncle died this year, losing to his battle with kidney disease. I was so messed up by his death that I didn’t go to the wake or the funeral but visited his grave when I was able to. Things really were never the same after this. My father’s side of the family were dwindling. And it was very sad.
1999: nothing note worthy
2000: the year of the computer collapse. No major computer issues happened until later that year when the lab went from one computer system to another. It took forever to get things done. It was the busiest time for OT in the history of the lab because the new computer system was so slow. Later this year I started having back pain. Little did I know that I was doing too much as I was working as a temp in medical assisting on my days off and also working as a cashier at a hardware store. It was the only time that I worked three jobs consecutively.

2001: My almost fatal work year. In February I had emergency surgery that would forever change my life. I couldn’t walk and it would take me weeks to learn to walk again. I also started with a new therapist yet again but this one I hope would stick around. Even though it has been almost fifteen years that we have been together, I still hope this to be true. I had to relearn quite a bit. I went back to work earlier than anticipated because I had no more earned time and basically didn’t have a paycheck. It was a hard time but I had to go to work. But I didn’t realize that going to work for forty hours would be so tortuous. I had to cut my hours first to twenty and then slowly increase to thirty-two. It took me a few years to make it back to forty and then some.

2002: I start on a very potent pain medication and it helps with my pain so that I can work pain free. But my moods were shifting up and down, really bad. I again thought that this would be it, that I would kill myself the next month if things weren’t put to a halt. I was put in the hospital, on a detox unit unbeknownst to me. There I was fed lies and had a nitwit for a psychiatrist. We argued the whole time I was there and by the end of my stay I had the staff and patients call her Dr. Dittlewhack, because she was so whacky. She thought one of the antidepressants that I was on was an antibiotic. I knew more about medication that she ever did. She took me off my pain medication and my muscle relaxant and told me lies that my doctors wouldn’t treat me for my pain or for my mental illness if I went back on my pain medication. I was furious. But when I got out, I learned that my doctors had no knowledge of what this idiot had said and they certainly weren’t going to stop treating me because I had pain issues. It was all lies. I so wanted to place a complaint against Dittlewhack for her mistreatment of me but never did. It was my one regret in life. I did, however, file a complaint with the human rights officer as staff and other doctors would interview patients out in common areas rather than private interview rooms. I hated that hospital stay and vowed never to return to that hospital.
2003: only thing noteworthy in this year was the Sox blowing the ALCS to the Evil Empire. It would end up being the last time the Yankees would make post season for a while

2004: my therapist goes on maternity leave. I am going back to college. I have an interim therapist because to be without one for four months would kill me. I was never more afraid of losing my therapist than I was this year. My biggest fear was that something would be wrong with her kid and force her to change her schedule or not come back. This would be the last year that my therapist would be at the same location as the interim therapist. Later this year, a friend would give me a car and I would be a car owner for the very first time. I sunk money into this baby to get her up and running but in the end it would be for waste. I couldn’t keep up with her demands. I also left the lab for a research job at this time. Life in the lab had become intolerable with the new supervisor and I felt like my job was going to be in jeopardy because we clashed so much. When I was called in the chief supervisor’s office because I deleted stupid emails, it was the last straw for me. I had to transfer out. And I did, partially. I still kept my Saturday hours and worked thirty-two in the research job. It was the first time in three years that I worked so much. I was pain free and almost recovered from CES.
The Sox win the world series for the first time in 86 years!
2005: Lots of major things happen. Starts with me working my ass off at two jobs. Research had to cut my hours so I was now working twenty hours in two positions. Things become intolerable. My psychache was getting worse and worse with each passing day. I knew that I was on the verge of another hospitalization and then a group leader told me I wasn’t cut out for another psych hospitalization anymore. I lose my mind. I really planned on ending my life this year. I had everything down to a T. I tried to play it off with my therapist that things were going good. And then she asked me a question that saved my life and forever changed my course of therapy with her, “what was really going on”? I end up going to a partial hospitalization program so I could continue to work my research job as there would be no one to cover me.
2006: the year I wish I was dead. I got CES again in the fall. It is still unclear to me how I got it again or how in five months my back went from bad to worse, needing emergency surgery yet again. I would lose function yet again in my left leg and had to learn to walk again for the third time in my life. I had wicked bad muscle spasms in this leg that made me wish I went through with my plans from a year before. I hate my therapist. I knew what to do this time around and stuck with physical therapy for almost six months. All through it, I still worked two jobs.

2007: my beloved Sox win the World Series Championship for the second time in three years. I am still recovering from post CES. I learn about the American Association of Suicidology and become a member. I start writing a paper on how the medical profession always has a scale for physical pain but not psychological pain. I submit the paper for the AAS as the conference will be held in Boston the following year.

2008: I go to Barcelona on a business trip. All expenses paid through my job. My paper gets accepted for the AAS and I work on the poster for it. I am really excited about this. This year was probably the year I realized that my career is in psychology and not the lab. I try and work harder for my degree. I end up with a psychotic breakdown in the fall. I am heart broken as I have to put college again on hold. The voices become very demanding and medication doesn’t seem to work like it once did. I am hospitalized again as the voices want me to kill myself. I am put on high doses of trilafon and then am evaluated for clozapine as it has been more than two months and the hallucinations just won’t quit. This has been the longest I have ever been psychotic for.

2009: I start the year with an involuntary hospitalization and am placed on abilify to help my mood and psychosis. I do ok on this new medication and have minimal side effects. Soon as a month or so passes I stop the medication. I am without antipsychotics for a good year or so.

2010: I am still working two jobs and now my research job has kicked up a notch as I now have to go to dialysis centers to pick up blood. I am driving all over the city, getting stuck in traffic and basically spending my life on 93N/93S, mostly 93S. We get more help to coordinate pick ups and drop offs and the like. Worse of all I suffer a sprained ankle that has me in a boot for a few months due to severe spasms.

2011: My health starts failing. My depression worsens. My leg/ankle/foot keeps giving me pain and no one can understand why as physical therapy and scans/x-rays are normal. It is discovered that I am not walking correctly when I see a special physical therapist that deals with AFOs. I am evaluated and my life is forever changed again due to the nerve damage in my ankle/foot. My foot turns and pulls on the muscles and tendons it shouldn’t when I walk. I am placed in an AFO and by year’s end I make the decision that I need to work just one job. Little did I know that this one job would be the last job I would ever have.

2012: the world doesn’t come to end. My career as a lab assistant is over. I go to the AAS annual conference in Baltimore and become convinced that I am a hopeless case. When I return from the conference, the occupational health and my department decide that I am too disabled to work. I have to file for long term disability and social security. I am beyond devastated. I am truly hurt that despite my slaving at this job, an exception cannot be made to keep my job. So I leave in tears. The worse thing that happened was that my student loans are garnishing my SSD. I also have two hospitalizations as I cannot deal with the stress. I am back on abilify and need to stay on it if I want to keep the voices at bay. I also start a blog and it is successful.

2013: A new Year. This year I work on my book and by year end, have it all ready for an editor to pick through and red ink the shit out of it. I work closely with a writing partner and by October, my suicidality lifts enough that I am no longer thinking about suicide as much. Though it has been a brutal year for my depression. I write blog posts and dissociate. My therapist and I come to terms with suicidality on her side of things. Hearing her spell out how difficult it is helps me understand better what she goes through when I am suicidal. Just as in 2005 when she helped me through my November attempt, so she did again help me through. It wasn’t easy. There was a lot of arguing and a lot of frustration but we made it through.

2014: I don’t know what will happen this year. I hope that my book gets published. And I hope it sells a million copies so that I don’t have to be on disability anymore but that remains to be seen. The baby that I brought into this world turns 16. Amazing what happened in those years…

Year end Blog

by Midnight Demon, posted in blogging, depression, mood disorders, psychache

Year end blog

I thought and thought about what I would write today. I guess I should say that I am still here, alive. I can’t say that I am well because I am in pain at the moment. Damn ankle didn’t like me going out today.

I had a good year overall. I got my book done. An email from my idol saying he wishes my book is successful. I turned a corner in my psychache. I no longer feel it as much anymore. Though I still think about killing myself, the thoughts are less. I might have had a rough beginning to 2013 but I made it through even though there were times my life was tested. I don’t know what changed. I really think that my friend in Chicago really snapped me out of the funk that I was in. He is the reason why I am still here. He has a way about him that just makes me see things differently.

I got a ring on my finger that I got the beginning of the year. It was my reward for writing in December of 2012. I am not getting myself anything as expensive this year, not unless you count my editor, LOL. I hope that she does what I am expecting to and my money is well spent.

I don’t have any goals for the New Year. I can’t commit myself to anything because I never think that far ahead. I know there are going to be some changes in the New Year in regards to my insurance and possibly my student loans. I hope that my book is successful and I am able to pay the loans off and start going back to college to earn my degree.

I don’t have plans for the night. My sister is throwing her annual party. I bought some beer to have. I don’t know why I bought a six-pack. I probably will only have one beer and that will be it. I am not a beer drinker, in fact have only had two beers in my life time. But this year, I started wanting one for some strange reason. I find that one is all I need. I bought Sam Adams Winter Lager. I never had a lager before so I am hoping it is good.

I still can’t believe that I am not going bonkers about Konrad Michel writing back to me. Or that my consultant wishes me well with success for my book. I still feel blah and I don’t think that is ever going to change. Sure I might not be suicidal anymore but feeling nothing, no joy or pleasure sucks. Even my annoying game hasn’t been fun anymore. I just keep playing out of habit and the fact that I will get far behind if I don’t keep up with it. I even bought horseshoes and that didn’t get me far, nor did it make me happy. I chocked it up as an entertainment expense but it really is not entertaining me anymore. I hate to think what would happen if I was working. I would get so behind it would be impossible to get caught up. I still have three active pages of missions to do. I don’t know why I am talking about my game. Unless you play it, you have no idea what I am talking about, LOL.

Bottom line is that I am still feeling low. I am forcing myself to go out of the house even though the coffee that I have been drinking doesn’t have the same appeal it once did. I ended up throwing away most of it. I just couldn’t drink it. I miss my Isla Flores and Blue Java. Now they have a Mexican coffee but I have been too afraid of getting it for fear of liking it. They don’t even have my Hawaiian coffee anymore. I should have bought it when I had the chance. So I am just left with getting lattes and mochas. I really want a good cup of hot chocolate but keep forgetting to order it. It sucks that my one joy has now become mute to me. I just go to Starbucks out of habit more than a need to get a cup of Joe. It just breaks up the monotony. I hope that this mood that I am in changes. I really don’t like it.

Reflections on the Year

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

Reflections on the year

This time last year I was deeply in physical pain and psychological pain and in the throws of a yet another nasty depression. I was asked to do a writing project for a friend and I didn’t think I would make it. I was sure by this time, on this date, I would be dead. And if I happened to be alive on Dec 17th, I would surely die by my own hand. I promised myself that if things were still the same, that this heaviness that I felt in my chest were not gone, that the pain in my ankle/leg/foot were not decreased, I was going to end things, permanently.

This year, things are still not a hundred percent better but things are less. My depressions are bearable when they hit. I have Wil Wheaton to thank for giving me the tidbit that my brain is not working right and that things will pass and be better tomorrow. My suicidality, though still a deep part of my soul, has decreased to the point where it is just thoughts I ruminate over and then give up. I figured out with the help of some books that this is always going to be a struggle for me, that my depression and pain are always going to be there. But like a former therapist said to me, you don’t always have to act on what you are feeling. These days, I am a little bit more hopeful about the future, though I don’t always see it. I still get hopeless every once in a while but it doesn’t last forever like it once did. I find that writing my blog has been a life saver for me. Mr. Hyde hasn’t come around in almost two months now and for that I am grateful. I have people in my life that have helped me see that I can succeed, even though I am disabled. It took a long time for me to accept my disability. Took longer to grieve it. But eventually, when I realized that part of the depression and suicidality was the grief I was not mourning, I took it apart piece by piece and wrote about it. There was nothing I could do about the pain except wait for the pain meds to work and for that I grateful that I have it. Also emailing my psychiatrist about the depth I was in helped as well. I don’t know if I am still going to have the same doc in 2014 and that scares me. I know that getting pain medication is going to be harder to get with new doctors and even harder as government rules will dictate the rules for prescribing rather than relying on clinical judgments. I don’t know what I will do then. But that is not my worry for today.

I don’t know what brought about the change. Maybe it was having a daily contact with someone miles away from me, urging me to continue my writing and work on a book. Maybe it was a little of owning the depression and taking charge of it, that it doesn’t have to rule my life like it would love to. I just know that I feel differently than I did a year ago. And though the impulses to kill myself are still a threat, I have a therapist that is behind me like a fungus that won’t go away. I really doubt without her countless sessions I would still be here. She really has been the one person that I can always rely on to be there when my mood is dark and gray. We might have our arguments about treatment but I know that she believes in me that things aren’t always going to be so bleak. I guess I have more people in my life now that believe that I can do things where last year I didn’t think I was going to survive my own lethality. I have been tested a few times this year to end my life. I have made several plans before today to end my life this year. My therapist can account for that. Though I have only had one psychotic break this year that required hospitalization. My hospitalizations have been fewer in recent years than they were in the past. I think that is more because I don’t think they help as they once did and that is a shame. You don’t get the care I once relied on.

Lastly, I have to thank country music for without listening to the same songs over and over for hours of despair, I doubt I would be able to make it though the horrible nights when I couldn’t sleep, either because of pain or despair or both. It is the one genre that I can relate to every song and let my brain do the escaping when I was writhing in agony. From songs like “water tower” by Jason Aldean to “Crash my party” by Luke Bryan, to Taylor’s endless songs and lastly to the other artists that I have followed but are not so popular, Casey James and Cassadee Pope. Without music, the heart just doesn’t heal from pain.