I am a survivor of suicide attempts

I wrote a quick blog yesterday about the stigma of suicide. I asked wouldn’t it be nice to say to people you survived suicide like you survived cancer? I listened to the WEEI radio to hear my Sox game and it amazes me how quick people are to say they survived cancer but hide in the dark when talking about taking their own life. Both people are fighting for their lives. Granted one is bodily and the other is mostly mental but it still begs to question why there is a different in the illness. Suicide is the result usually of untreated depression or other mental illness. Most people think that it is depression that causes people to think about suicide but it is not. You can be psychotic and think about killing yourself. I know. I have been through it with my psychosis. I have had voices tell me to kill myself, in fact in one of the delusion it was considered a command order. Psychotic disorders often get tossed by the way side when considering suicide but a recent article in JAMA showed that it can pave the way to catching suicide attempts if asked about. The study showed that teens with psychotic symptoms are more apt to attempt suicide than non-psychotic teens.

But you don’t need to be in a mental state to be in the suicidal mind. That is what is so devastating about suicide is that people before they commit suicide look and act “normal”. I know that people who are suffering from cancer can look anything but normal. They can be bald or look skeletons. They are really fighting to be alive while those that are thinking about suicide just want to die. People with cancer are the lucky ones. Their suffering will end. People know this. But those of us with mental illness we continue to suffer and when we decide to give up and end the fight, we are looked down upon and treated often inhumanely. We then feel ashamed of ourselves for trying to end the pain and failing at it. We end up in the hospital to “save ourselves from more destruction”. All we want is peace, same as the cancer patient that is terminally ill. We want the suffering to end.

To some people, they believe that suicide is preventable. To some people it is but you are not going to catch the majority of people most at risk. You cannot stop every suicide. People have the right to kill themselves if they so choose to do so. It is the ones that survive that have the right to speak about it. Because those that survive depending on their reaction to their own attempt might be clues to whether they survive or not. I have survived the past several years despite making elaborate plans on killing myself. I really want to die but my reasons for living keep me going. I don’t like it but I can’t picture my sister telling my eight year old niece that I have passed on. She is my baby and I don’t want to hurt her or my other nieces or my nephew. My nephew is what kept me going during a very difficult time in my life. I wish that I had succeeded but because I didn’t, I got to see him grow into a man and graduate from high school. I didn’t think that he would or that I would live to see the day he did.

It saddens me that I am still alive when all I want to be is dead. I don’t know why I preserve. Right now I am in a lot of pain and I don’t like it. I don’t know if I am going to get any sleep tonight because of it. Where is the training of medical doctors to handle chronic pain? There isn’t any. I don’t get asked what my mental status is during medical visits anymore. It is just assumed that I am ok because I have a smile on my face. Didn’t matter that the day before I was in so much pain that I was in bed all day, taking pain pills every four-six hours. Maybe I was happy because I could finally get out of the house and go to my doctor’s appointment and I wasn’t in pain. The siege was over with. But now it has returned and the meds have not kicked in yet to knock my big ass out. I am tired of living with chronic physical pain all the time. It sucks the life out of you, what ever life is. And if it doesn’t, your mental illness will surely do it for you. There is no reprieve. No relief in sight. And that is why suicide is what it is. For people that survive it, they should be able to say that they have. But no one does. There are a few people that have been coming out slowly through the AAS blog but I fear that the ones that don’t come out, are the ones that will try again and maybe succeed.

I am a failure of suicide attempts. And because it has been so long since my last one I am not going to try again any time soon. Least for now. So I am in pain and I have one option left to me…to suffer.

weird dream

Today has been a quiet day for me. My only goal for the day was to go to the post office and mail a letter. It didn’t happen. I woke up in pain and been nursing my foot ever since. I woke up after having a disturbing dream. In the dream, I was being laughed at because of my pain. These two nurses or something similar I am not sure, were laughing because they couldn’t believe that my pain was so bad that it needed pain medication. So they laughed at me. Then when I was telling them I had nerve pain in the foot, they laughed harder. I was feeling sorry for myself in this dream and wondered if I am laughable. This pain has been going on for so long, I wonder if there is anything other than pain medication to help me anymore.

I fell back asleep only to find myself in another retarded dream. I got up but my foot was still hurting me. I then was extremely nauseous. I had to lie down and take my anti-nausea pill. I just couldn’t understand why I was so sick. I know it probably had to do with not eating anything all day and just taking my pain medication on an empty stomach. I just didn’t feel hungry today.

The earlier dream really got to me though. I know it was just a dream, that it wasn’t real. But it felt real. I don’t know why this dream struck a cord with me so much. It really got me thinking that this is how I perceive myself, as a laughing matter. Or maybe it is just that I don’t think people are believing me anymore when I tell them I have pain. I know my pain is real. It is incapacitating and debilitating. I can’t do anything, walk, go up stairs, stand, nothing that I used to do before. Funny (not ha ha) that I relearned to walk twice in my life and now I can’t enjoy it.

I know my therapist is going to ask me what do you think this means. I don’t know what it means really. It is just a dream in which I felt like I was a joke. That no one really believes I am in pain anymore and that I am ashamed of myself for some reason.

It’s a little after 0530 in the morning. I woke up around 0500. I was in a lot of pain. I didn’t dream I was in pain, I just woke up being in pain. My leg and my ankle were killing me. So I took some thing for it. I hate when I wake up in the wee hours of the morning. It usually means I am going to have a rough day. I am trying to stay awake for as long as possible so that I can maximize my sleep. Only trouble is that I have an appointment with my therapist at noon time so I can’t be totally asleep. I have my alarm set for 1015 to wake up. Now I am thinking that is too early as it will only give me about a 4 hour snooze, if I go to be within the next half hour. I haven’t had any weird dreams last night, least none that I can recall.

My one goal for the day is to mail my therapist’s packet of letters that I wrote her while she was on vacation. And if I am feeling up to it, to clean my car. I still have not done so all summer. I keep putting it off every day. I just don’t have the motivation to do it. I really need to take down the transponder for FastLane. I hope I can do it without breaking the windshield of my car. Once I get it cleaned out, I can call the junk service people and get it out of my hair. And hopefully, have some money in my pocket for a while.

I really hope that my therapist doesn’t read too much into my dream as I have. I still can’t get it out of my head. I have been trying to forget about it but it still there, and the feelings that are associated with it are too. I don’t know why my sisters were in the dream. They didn’t do anything to help with this stupid lady laughing at me. But it was just a dream. Just a dream.

adequate pain relief and suicide

Was going through some old journals and came across an article on pain and suicide. This was the “first” study to find that moderate to severe pain caused suicide to happen. **clap, clap, clap** Tell me something I DON’T KNOW. I don’t get how they have to do a study in order for doctors and other mental health professionals to realize that any type of prolonged pain (physical or mental) is going to result in suicide. It astounds me, it really does. And the worse part is that these people are not being treated. That’s the other thing that drives suicide, untreated pain. Granted you can’t treat psychological pain like you can physical pain. There just isn’t a pill you can take to relieve psychological suffering. That is the sad part. But you can assess it. You can hear the person talk about their pain. That is all the person wants really, is to be heard.

Physical pain is ambiguous. And the study didn’t focus on any particular pain in the body. The researchers just asked have you had pain in the last four weeks and then they rated it. So there is no telling that this pain was coming from the head, back, legs, stomach, etc. Does it matter? I don’t think so. I just think that more doctors should ASK their patients if they are experiencing pain and how severe it is to them. And also ask if they are thinking about suicide because of this pain. But most doctors don’t have the TIME to ask these questions.

In the months after my psychiatric hospitalization, my doctor asked for three months if I was suicidal because of my pain or for another reason. Then, the questions stopped. He began to ask more about what was causing my pain and try and help me there. A few months ago he asked me again if I had suicidal thoughts. He then told me that he cares a lot about me and that he would miss me should I kill myself. That took me off guard. I know I have a good relationship with my doctor but do other patients have good relationships with theirs? And are the people that are prescribing narcotics regularly checking to see if their patient is at risk for suicide? My doctor has stopped asking me if the pain medication is adequate for me. Sometimes it is, other times it is not. And I think that finding an adequate pain relief regimen is key to saving a life.

I know that I am constantly complaining on my blog about my pain. But I have pain meds to control it. Even if at times it is inadequate. Do I think about suicide? Yes, I do. But I have protective factors that are preventing me from going through with my plan. And I hate these factors because I wish I could kill myself. I know that I will be missed by my blog readers, my family, my therapist and my psychiatrist. I have a sense of belongingness to these people and as much as they drive me crazy, they keep me here. So all I can do is write about my pain and hope that it helps someone to know they are not alone in their pain too.

You know you’re having a bad day when

You know you’re having a bad day when…

You know you’re having a bad day when you wake up and a half hour later you are in severe pain. I just can’t believe my foot acted up. But then, this has been happening for the last few weeks. I can’t stand it anymore. I lose sleep because I am in pain and then when I do wake up, I am in pain again? It’s not fair! Usually my day time hours I am in manageable pain. It has gotten to the point where I don’t even notice it anymore. Now all that has changed. I don’t know if something else is going on with my foot, if I did something to cause it to be this way or if it is just nerve damage. I don’t really care of the cause, I just want pain relief. Luckily taking pain meds in the morning are working but it leaves me exhausted the rest of the day, even with a cup of coffee. Though my Starbucks funds are running low, I won’t be going there soon until my next pay period. I guess I over indulged when I bought myself some treats. Can’t help it. I love their coffee cakes.

Yesterday I was reading my support group email and a friend was telling the group how you need to mourn the loss of your old self as you are never getting back to it. Then a fellow blogger wrote the same sentiments about her illness and how disabled she felt but didn’t realize how much of herself had gone by the way side since becoming ill. She was crying as a way to mourn that loss. It got me thinking…maybe I am so suicidal because my grief is just too great. I got CES, Cauda Equina Syndrome, at the age of 25. It is a syndrome of nerve damage caused by compression of the cauda equina nerves, the horses tail, that is at the end of the spinal cord. These nerve control the function of everything below the waist, from leg movement, to going pee and having a bowel movement, to sexual function. It also controls sensation and proprioception, the awareness of where your legs and feet are. Once this is gone, your balance is affected. You might lose control of one or both your legs. You might not walk correctly anymore.

I have been through a lot the past year and a half. I have been diagnosed with a nerve condition called complex regional pain syndrome (CRPS), which is the chief source of my foot/ankle/leg pain. It is caused by already damaged nerves and aren’t I the lucky one to get both conditions. Since I have been diagnosed, I have been really depressed. I know there is no treatment other than opioid therapy. Though I have been in therapy with the same therapist for the last twelve and a half years, I still have not thought how much these conditions have affected my life until now. I no longer can work. At one time I was working three jobs. Now I can barely do one. Before going on disability, I was working two jobs. I wasn’t happy. Both jobs were stressful and caused me sometimes sleepless nights. But then I sprained my ankle and everything started to go down hill after that. I couldn’t figure out why the ankle, which should have healed in the allotted time, was still causing me pain. Why my leg still had swelling, why my foot and ankle were swollen. It didn’t make any sense. I saw one doctor after another. Podiatrist, orthopedists, physiatrists, neurologists. None could give me a clue until the symptoms became worse and a picture of CRPS started to emerge. By that time, I was having difficulty working both jobs. I ended up going to the emergency room in severe pain, pain that was causing me to think of suicide as a solution to end it because nobody could help me. I went to physical therapy and they were the ones to notice I wasn’t walking correctly. My foot does this swing thing that pulls at muscles it’s not supposed to while I walk, but only does so when I become fatigued. Which, one physical therapist showed, happens very quickly. And that is because I never regained my strength in my foot after getting CES. I never thought that at the age of 36 I would be disabled. And it hurts. Not having the social support of my coworkers anymore hurts. Not having contact with people outside of my family hurts. My friends that I thought would always be there are there no longer. They all went on with their busy lives and stopped texting and calling to see how I was doing. I don’t blame them. But I do miss them.

I guess when I have had uncontrollable sobbing episodes it was because of my grief that I have been avoiding all this time. I don’t know how to deal with it. I never thought that I would be in mourning. I never thought that I would lose my job because I couldn’t walk anymore. I still am able to walk just not for long distances. I can’t stand for more than twenty minutes without pain. I used to be able to do so much and now I can’t do anything. And because I am not financially stable. I can’t even go back to school while I ponder what my next move is. College is too expensive for me to afford. Even at the state school. I know I should put some time into getting a grant or something but I wonder if I am too “old” to get it. I have had to put my college education on hold because of my mental illness back in 2008 and I have not returned to school since then. But then I am not sure I can walk around campus and do the stairs like I used to. There is a lot of loss in my life on a very personal level. How do you mourn the loss of your functions? How do you get used to not doing something as “simple” as walking. I have had to relearn to walk again twice in my life. How many people can say that?

It makes me angry at times. I guess that is why I have been having fits of anger for no reason. I will just be in my room playing on my laptop or writing when all of a sudden these waves of anger will wash over me. I guess it is all part of the grieving process. And isn’t one of them denial?