Tag: psychache

UGH..another plan down the drain

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

UGH For the first time in years, I am having a problem connecting to the internet at Starbucks! This sucks because I wanted to look up lyrics for my lyric book and hopefully work on my other book today. But now it looks like I will just work on my other book. And my blog.

I started thinking about what I was going to write. Last night I was too tired for the demons to come out. I actually thought I would be up will at least 2200 but I was a goner before that time. I was watching the movie Lincoln and really don’t know what time I passed out. The thing that sucked was that I woke up at 6:30 in the morning. I fell back to sleep after I had something to eat. Now I am having my coffee and I am contemplating what to have for lunch. I need to get some more Gatorade as I am running low. I have to take it with my meds as water sometimes causes some of the pills to dissolve quickly in my mouth and it is gross.

It is very difficult writing this book. I am all over the place with my thoughts. I still cannot connect to the internet while at Starbucks. I guess I will upload this when I get home.

I am feeling a little lost today. I was supposed to kill myself today. That was the plan for the longest time. And like I thought, I don’t feel like killing myself. But that doesn’t mean that I am not suicidal. I just feel like I let myself down, again. I don’t know why I bother saying I am going to kill myself if I am not going to go ahead with it. I think I am just the “cry wolf” so many times that I actually don’t think I am capable of killing myself despite coming up with elaborate plans to do so. All that planning has gone to waste. I find it depressing that I am not living yet I can’t die. I really wish my body would wake up and realize how dead I feel inside all the time. I can’t feel happiness. I can’t feel joy. All I feel is this emptiness inside that is killing me. I really feel that if my feelings were connected to my autonomic system, maybe I would have the chance of dying in my sleep.

I am fricken cold in the Starbucks today. I meant to bring a long sleeved t-shirt but I forgot it. I actually have no idea where my long sleeved t-shirts are. I think they are buried with my other winter clothes. I have an hour before the bus gets here. I just missed the one I could have taken but I really want to get a few pages of my book writing in.

I started re-reading the article on suicide reaction and it just further justifies the reasons why I should be dead and not living. I feel I have no future. I really thought I would be dead this weekend so I have stopped thinking about what the next few weeks will bring. Or months.

My writing friend has come up with giving rewards for writing as an incentive. My gift to myself this month is getting Luke Bryan’s new CD. And possibly Keith Urban’s new one as well. It all depends on what is left over after I pay my bills for the month. I hate budgeting. I feel like I need to get a job just to have spending money for the month. But as long as I am still owing money for my LTD, I can’t get a job. This so sucks. I don’t even know if I will be able to find a job. I have been out of work for a year now and even though I kind of like my new routine, it is pretty boring. My only respite is getting out for coffee each day, other than going out for doctors appointments. I just don’t know if I can handle the challenge of working again. I am so fearful that mentally I will have a breakdown because it will be too stressful or that the voices will be too much and I will have to quit. I really would love to work for Starbucks but I am not sure I can stand for eight hours or more. I know that I won’t be able to do stock because I can’t lift anything heavier than fifteen pounds. And I can’t bend over because of my back issues. I really just need a desk job but then I worry that I will have lose my insurance. I know I will lose it once the LTD stops. I will then have to go on the state plan and hope that my primary doc accepts it. I don’t know if I will have to pay for it. I hope I don’t because I am on disability. I also have been thinking of applying for food stamps because I can’t afford food shopping in my budget right now. I have been living off whatever my mother cooks and buys but it would be nice to have my own food, which she doesn’t like. Granted I buy the cold cuts that are “expensive” but it is what I like. Boar’s Head is not cheap but it is so good. I also like getting the PF Chang Chinese frozen dinners that you just heat up on the stove. Again my mother doesn’t like this but I do. It beats buying $20 (USD) of take out Chinese but the down side is no appetizers. But this month I plan on treating myself to Chinese because I didn’t kill myself. I think that is a good enough reason…

pain of emails at times

by Midnight Demon, posted in blogging, Chronic pain, chronic physical pain, depression

Midnight demons rise again

I was having a real painful night last night. The menses have stopped but the depression is still in full gear. I tried to stay “conscious” even though I was tired so that the demons didn’t come out and I sent some more good bye letters. I was doing fine until I couldn’t take the physical pain anymore and just posted a status on Facebook “everyone wants to turn a blind eye to the pain i experience every day. so be it. when they ask for something I will just tell them no can’t do it because of pain. maybe then they will get the message..I am too tired of fighting all my thoughts are dark and no one cares or gives a shit” . With me having posted this status, I was finally able to sleep. Then the interesting comments began. The latest one that I woke up to this morning is that one of my “friends” is going to kick my butt. WTH I don’t need that shit. I know she was joking, but come on! It so pissed me off and was so uncalled for. I wanted to reply a big FUCK YOU to her but what would be the point? I don’t remember posting the status anyway and it was how I felt at the time. I am just glad I didn’t email my psychiatrist like I really wanted to.

I did however write several pages to my therapist last night. I think the comp book is going to get filled up very quickly this week. I have been getting the itch to write. Sometimes it’s hard though because I don’t have a clear idea of what I want to say. Other times, once I do get started, it flows like a river. I don’t remember what I wrote about. Just some stuff that I wrote in my blog and how I was hoping that the midnight demons wouldn’t come out. Apparently, I was wrong. I am kind of pissed and I didn’t take my Neurontin this time around so it definitely is a psychological thing and not a medication thing. Like it would be that easy. After the Sox game is when I noticed I came apart. I just was really mad they lost again. And that the stupid fucking Rays won. We (Sox) still are in first place but I am not sure for how much longer if the Rays continue to win and we lose. I am getting very frustrated. But the bullpen just isn’t as strong as it was and the bats aren’t as hot as they were. It’s like both equations for the team have been null.

Anyways, so after the Sox game I noticed I got really tired and was going to go to sleep but I was playing my music and it was keeping me up, like fighting sleep up. I then had the urge to write something, anything. I really think that is when the demon came out. It didn’t take over completely, like it has in the past, as I was still trying to stay in control. But my mood just got wicked down and the pain in my foot and ankle went berserk. I think after my ankle and foot pain went nuts, so did I. I just lost control, hence why I posted that status on FB. But I felt better after I posted it and got some understanding responses. I didn’t get the rude response until this morning. I don’t get why people in pain respond that way. I don’t find it funny at all. And this person suffers from chronic pain too so I really don’t get it.

I still am feeling tired despite sleep most of the afternoon. My mother made some fish for supper so I had some of that. I really want some ice cream so I will probably go down to get it in a little bit, after I finish my writing.

My foot has been “good” most of the day, though now it’s fricken cold and hurts. This is not good because once it warms up, it will really WARM up. Even if I take my pain medication now, there is no telling that it will work or not. I have to wait till it warms up before taking the pain meds. I have tried taking the pain meds while anticipating and thinking it will lessen the pain but it doesn’t always work out that way. I really wish there was a pill I could take that would keep me pain free for at least 24 hrs. But there isn’t.

Last night I read a report about Gmail not being private anymore so I was off switching email accounts on my support group. I now use a Hotmail address for everything and I have several accounts that I have made over the years. My main email I have had since being with MSN in 2001. I recently have opened one specifically for my blog. This is so I know which account has the specific things I need. One is my personal, one is for my group, and then one is for my blog. I know it might sound weird but I like it this way. It’s just another organization system in my head. The trick though is remembering the passwords!! Because the group is yahoo and I hate using Yahoo mail, I had to log on, again. My email got corrupted once so I had to say my account was compromised to get a new password. Now I wrote it down in my journal so I know what it is should I have to go back into it. I hate Yahoo. But I guess if you have a strong password to begin with you are ok. My other passwords are the same or I try to keep them same if possible so they are easier to remember.

I am so excited that my menses have finally stopped. I would jump for joy but that probably would not be good for my ankle.

Chronic Pain and Living

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

I have tried to take my life several times over the years. Currently, I am struggling with the difficulties of trying to stay alive. I keep coming up with plans to end my life. I give myself a date and when that day comes, I plan on ending it. This has been going on for a few years now. My therapist has been able to stop the constriction by telling me how my family will feel and how she will feel if I go ahead and take my life. I can’t help making these plans.

I have been depressed for as long as I can remember. I recently been trying to get at the “root” of my suicidality but the feelings evade me. I just know that between the ages of 5 and 8 something happened that made me want to take my life. And by age 10 I tried by putting a pillow case over my head. No one knew about this. I told my mother right before putting the pillow case I was going to kill myself but she did nothing. My confidence in her dwindled that day. I felt I could no longer trust her.

Five years later I am a freshman in high school and my parents had started World War III. They broke up and so did my wrist. I started cutting to relieve the pressure and pain. I used cutting to relieve the psychological pain that I was feel and it became my friend over the next seven or so years. Sixteen I was hospitalized and everyone found out about the voices. That was tough. I had wanted to join the military to get away from my family but having a psychotic diagnosis, I knew that I never would pass their tests. My career was over before it started and I fell into a worse depression. I kept on getting rehospitalized, like every three months, because I just couldn’t handle my life. I was getting worse and the suicidality was getting better. I kept on thinking that I was the end.

As I suffer from delusions and psychosis, two years ago, I had a funny thing happen. I had the delusion and voice of Allah tell me that I should sacrifice myself so that the war in Afgan would stop. As you probably could tell, I was off my meds again. My psychiatrist doesn’t think that I should be on them all the time because of the side effects. I had to re-start taking them because I was the sacrificial lamb and I believed all this earnestly. Allah was talking to me and I was the cause of the war of Afganistan. The only way to stop the war was to stop my life. So again I planned another scheme to end my life. Only this time, like before, my therapist stopped me. I tried very hard to get her to see that it had to be done and to think of all the soldiers I would save by ending my life. It seemed like a good win win. Sacrifice one life so all could be saved. Isn’t that what the military does? Allah was not too happy when I started again on my meds. He was very angry. And he also wanted me to end my life anyway because it was better than taking medication. I agreed with him on this but I couldn’t end my life. By this time I was back in the hospital. I was still delusional, thinking I was still the “one” to save it all. But as the medication started working, the delusions dropped and I began to see more clearly. The voices went away except for my regular voices that I hear all the time.

Since that time, a lot has changed for me. I have become disabled and am in chronic physical pain. I now too have a plan on killing myself and it is to happen some time this year. I have had enough. No pill can adequately control my pain and it is a tough position to live in. I have a condition known as Complex Regional Pain Syndrome (CRPS). It is a neurological disorder in which the nerves are out of whack and no one really knows the cause. I was “lucky” in that I had nerve damage already to my ankle and then when I sprained it, twice, I think it allowed the nerve damage to spread. Of course I also don’t walk correctly. I can stand here and give a lecture about pain and suicidal but I am afraid it will fall on deaf ears or not really reach the people it needs to reach. I wish you could say that you can live your life with chronic pain but I would be lying. There was a time when I was able to. I had adequate pain control and could work a full time job. That ended when instead of being placed on a regular psych unit, I was placed in a detox unit and my pain medication was stopped. Since that time in 2002, I have not had adequate pain control and I am afraid to ask. I have my pain meds but it only treats the physical type of pain that I experience. It doesn’t help with the burning sensation or the other electrical type pain that I experience. And nothing helps these types of pain. No cream or pain gel works. It might be enough to take the edge off so I can sleep but I am always in a 3-4 state of pain every single day and when my activity goes up, showering, getting dressed, walking to the bus stop or standing while waiting for the bus, then the pain also goes up. Sometimes all it takes is my moving my big toe and I am in pain. And with each episode, I think about death. I plan it, I imagine it, I dream of it. I no longer am able to work because I can’t walk more than 300 ft. I can’t lift things greater than 10 lbs. I can’t stand more than 20 minutes. And I am only 37. I got this horrendous condition when I was 25. It was a long battle and I wish that I could say that not working is helping me. In some ways it does. It helps me to write and distress. My voices are at a lower key than they were when I had a job. I don’t have the delusions as much. I just am constantly suicidal. And maybe one day I will. But as one of the bloggers Toni has written, “I am not living and I can’t die”.

feeling terrible

by Midnight Demon, posted in blogging, depression

I feel terrible and weak. My menses of course have to drive it up a notch and my doc is on vacation just like I thought she would be *huffing puffing*. I was supposed to meet up with a friend today but I am still trying to catch up from sleep I lost yesterday as I had been up almost 24 hrs before taking a nap for a few hours. By few, I mean 3. It was a hard day yesterday. I didn’t know if I was coming or going and I still don’t.

My therapist and I have tried to work on what to do should Mr. Hyde shows up while she is on vacation. Maybe to text the call for help people or something. But the thing is, other than feeling really suicidal, I don’t feel the need to ask for help. I feel totally normal. I go about my business like I normally do. Except I am writing dark stuff and planning the end of my life. I am beyond hopeless so what would be the point of reaching out? I don’t feel the need to talk to anyone. All I need is a pad and pen or my laptop and I am good. I express all the dark stuff on paper or send off messages to people that I care about telling them I love them and not to worry that I will be in a better place. It seems NORMAL to me but I know it’s not normal when I wake up from this dream/dissociative state. Only when I am out of it do I really feel the sting of the pain because I am still living. I really feel like during these episodes that I am going to die, that I will fall asleep and not wake up. Then I wake up, rested and wonder if I dreamt all that, but then the yellow legal pad or messages I get in the morning are my tell all. That it wasn’t a dream. That I wasn’t in my “right” mind at all. And every time this happens is after 2100 hrs. It starts usually about then and ends whenever I fall asleep which is usually around 0300-0400 in the morning. I use military time because it is easier to write for me.

I am supposed to write something for the AAS blog but other than the piece I did write and was rejected, sort of, I have no clue what this person is looking for. And I am tired of trying to please someone. I wrote a three page blog last night at five in the morning because I was up and had all these thoughts in my head, but apparently, chronic pain and suicide doesn’t fathom her taste either. I am going to hold off on posting the blog for now as I want to re-read it and maybe make some edits. My therapist almost went apeshit on me when she found out that this person was going to rifle through my blogs. I don’t care. I really don’t. If a million people can have access to it, why can’t she. My therapist I have had to throw limits to because there are some stuff I just don’t want her to read. That is limiting just one person. And it’s not like people I know really read my blogs. There is a person in Taiwan that reads them and I don’t know him or her. That is the beauty of being anonymous. But when your therapist reads your blog, you know you are no longer anonymous and that frightens me. I know I post my blog on Facebook and a couple of my real friends have read it. But they don’t call me on it. Some people do. My sister had her friend over the other night and we were talking about Facebook and she called me by my real name (which still shocks me because I never get called that at home except by my mother) and she proceed to ask like WTF is wrong with me. In FRONT of my sisters and her friend. I kind of got embarrassed. I was like WTF. I post what I post and I don’t censor it all. Hell, if I censored my blog, all of them would be private and not available to help someone who is feeling the same thing I am feeling so what the hell is the difference. Just because you think your life is all happy and shit doesn’t mean that my life is. My life is miserable and I know that I can make it better by not being a part of the world but that is not going to happen. I have an eight year old that looks up to me and to tell her that I have died would just break her little heart. And knowing that I would be the cause of that is why I can’t go ahead with killing myself.