Tag: psychache

therapists and feeling violated

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

I’m tired. I didn’t get that much sleep last night because I was up in the wee hours of the morning. I then had to wake up early for my therapy session. I feel kind of violated for some reason because she was able to read my blog while we were talking. Usually I send it to her in advance so she can read it but this time, I didn’t want her to read it. But the little snot figured out how to. I then had to talk about what I wrote, which I didn’t feel like doing. I don’t even remember what I wrote. I know the world can see what I write. I know that at least 30 people a day read my blog. But they are mostly strangers to me, if I know them at all. To have my therapist just barge in on my writing, it just felt wrong. I am kind of upset over it but there not much I can do about it now.

Like a commentator wrote, I am not the scumbag of the universe. That was the thing we (my therapist and I) were arguing about. Apparently, she doesn’t love scumbags so I can’t be one. Well sorry but I felt that way at the time I wrote it. I still feel pretty nasty, as in awful low life of the planet that should be exterminated. I guess I am not in good space today and I don’t know why. I still am so sleepy. I haven’t had my coffee today because I am running low on my Starbucks funds. I have to ration my coffee funds till Wednesday. I know I can make some coffee at my sister’s. I made a decent iced coffee the other day. It didn’t wake me up like Starbucks but it got the gears moving so I could type and read a little bit. I do have my Starbucks tribute but it’s kind of late and it might keep me up if I have it now.

I think I am cycling or something. One day I can’t sleep to save my life and the next day all I want to do is sleep. I don’t see my pdoc until next week. These episodes are driving me crazy. I hate not knowing what is going on. And the psychache that I have been feeling has been off the hook. One minute I am fine the next I am in horrible pain. I feel chest pain or a weight on my chest and I can’t breathe normally. It’s not an anxiety attack, I know what those feel like. This is something different and happens when the psychache just creeps up on me to remind me it’s still there. I think that is why I haven’t been able to get anything done that I wanted to. I just have been weighed down with this invisible weight. I guess that is what makes me sleepy.

I have to bitch about my game that I play. I have been playing the same game on Facebook for the past three years now. I like it because it gives you missions to accomplish and it is better than Farmville where all you do is plant things. You still plant things on the Pioneer Trail but now the missions have increased and are getting more ridiculous. The latest one has you having to fill daily orders. The thing is the stuff you need to fill the order has to come from your neighbors and planted for 7 hrs so you really need to jump on this game for you to collect the stupid gold dust I think. I don’t know if I am making sense but the only other way of beating this mission is by buying horseshoes, which means you have to spend money. I don’t have the money to spend for this game anymore. I used to when I had it but now I don’t. I used to call it my entertainment expenses. But I’m broke now and even if I did have the money I am not going to buy horseshoes for a mission that is going to be impossible tomorrow and require more horseshoes. I have three facebook profiles just to play this game, so that I can get the stuff that I need. It’s because every time I request stuff, my neighbors don’t respond. I respond to their stuff, but they never respond to mine. There’s one little twit I just want to tell her you got to give in order to receive but I feel it would be a waste of my time. And she is always begging for stuff. If the stuff she needs I happen to need also, I will get the reward. Other than that, she can keep requesting. I just made it to level 118.

constriction and rationality

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

Been in an angry mood today after therapy. I just realized that if I kill myself on the date I was planning on, it won’t mess with the statistics like I thought it would. I tried to find another Friday with a 17 this year and there isn’t so now I am permanently retired with the suicidal planning, for now. I am so friggin pissed off. And to make it worse, my therapist talked me into another fricken session for tomorrow.

I’m listening to Bon Jovi to try and calm down but it’s making me a little more agitated as I really love their music and sing along to it. But it is distracting me from writing. I might be a little hoarse tomorrow from singing…

I got up early today and made myself breakfast. I had like two hours to kill before I had therapy so decided to get my coffee earlier than I usually do. I had to do something as this heat is intolerable. I am stuck in my room because it is the only cool place in the house. AND I am bored as hell. I might watch a movie today or MASH. I haven’t had my MASH fix in a while. I miss seeing Alan Alda and the guy that plays Frank Burns. It cracks me up. And I need some laughter.

I just read a blog about a parent that lost her daughter to suicide recently. The girl was 23 and was in med school. She wrote a two paged suicide note so suicide was on her mind for quite some time to write such a detailed note. Funny, with all my planning, I thought of writing on but I have yet to do so. I figured when the time came I would do it. I would have to write several, for each family member, except my father. He doesn’t deserve one. Nor would he be able to read it as he is illiterate when it comes to the English language. I don’t know how he has been in this country for more than forty years and has yet to pick up the basic words or even try to learn the language. He speaks it ok but now that he is older he some times forget to speak English and will rattle off in Italian. But I digress…

I don’t know what I would say in my letters. That I am sorry that I couldn’t be around and take the pain anymore. That the depression was too much and I couldn’t stand it. That no one is to blame for my death. My treatment team did the best they could in treating me but still couldn’t get through this resistant depression that I have. No medication really worked. I still suffered despite being medicated. No hospitalization worked to the full effect, especially the last few times I was in. The whole system is a failure but that is another issue. I love each of you dearly but sadly that love is not enough to suffice the pain I feel every day. Even with the courageous help of my therapist she couldn’t break through to me that I mean something to someone. I am a nothing and always will be.

Something like that anyways. There will be no need to mention that I feel like and was meant to be a boy. It just seems like a mute point. I know that I will never be a male nor will I ever be seen as one. I will always be seen as a daughter or a sister. And that is painful to me.

My therapist said that I am being irrational even though I am feeling rational because I am so constricted with feeling suicidal. I do feel rational. She even went as far as calling me borderline psychotic. I had to laugh. I do feel rational about my decision to kill myself. It seems logical that if I am suffering as much as I am, I have the decision to end my life because I want my suffering to end. It doesn’t have to make sense to anyone but me. Like that girl that killed herself, I am happy for her because she is no longer suffering. I know her parents are and her friends. Depression hurts. There is no denying that. It affects more than just the sufferer. My therapist was trying to get me to see that I matter to people but I don’t think I really do sometimes. I think I am the scumbag of the universe and I deserve to die. I don’t know why I think that way but I do. Even with the accomplishment of having 10,000 readers, I still feel useless. I might help one person with my writings but I think about the ones that I can’t reach. Like the people that ask questions about cauda equina syndrome. Those people are more at risk for suicide than those suffering from depression alone. But I guess I can’t save the world.

blanket of gloom

by Midnight Demon, posted in blogging, depression

Not having a good day. I had therapy this afternoon. I had to take a pain med before it started because my ankle was acting up. I was kind of out of it while talking with my therapist. I know I got really depressed while talking with her. Seemed like a blanket of doom covered me while we were talking. I couldn’t shake it. I still feel that way. We were talking about my “splits” where I feel like half a day I am ok and then at night the demons come out. She can’t make sense out of them anymore than I can. She doesn’t know if medication can help but she really wants something to be done as she knows how lethal my moods can become.

After therapy, I made myself some lunch and tried to get a nap in but I just couldn’t get into a deep sleep. I had music playing so that is probably why. I still feel kind of sleepy. I still feel depression of gloom over me.

My pdoc didn’t have much to say about my “splits”. She only asked if we were still meeting tomorrow. I HATE when she doesn’t give me any input. I feel like I am spiraling out of control. But no one around me is noticing. I am mostly in my room. Only time I get out is to get food or go to the bathroom as the house is so damn hot. I can’t take the heat of the house or the humidity and the A/C is only in my room. But even when I have dinner with my mother she doesn’t notice a change. The only time I do leave the house is when I go to Starbucks, though I might go to Walgreens to get some snacks.

I don’t know why I keep to myself. I guess it is because there is no one really to talk to other than my online friends. It’s not that I have been purposely keeping myself isolated. I just have no social life. My few friends that I have, have been busy. And with this depression, I really don’t want to really socialize anyways because I just feel so low.

My therapist is keeping a better eye on me now that she knows about these “splits”. She thinks because I keep my self so compartmentalized that the depressive side comes out when I am most vulnerable, when I am ready to sleep. Last night I didn’t stay up too late. I took some meds and added some and was asleep by 0100. I can’t remember if I had a good or bad night. I know that I was feeling a little hyper the beginning of the night. But taking my antipsych med calmed me down.

I don’t know why I feel this cloak of doom. It feels like a weight following me around. I don’t feel pain of any sorts, other than my ankle being a pest. But I just feel so gloomy. It’s awful. I hate feeling this way but I accept it because what else are you going to do? It’s not like you can see this blanket to take it off.

Midnight Demons Are Back…and it sucks

by Midnight Demon, posted in Chronic pain, depression

I did my what has now become my daily routine. I took a shower and then headed to Starbucks for my coffee. Because I earned so many stars (rewards), I earned a free drink so today took advantage of it. I also got another banana coffee cake as I was in the mood for something sweet. I then sat and journaled about my therapy session.

Last night I sent her a pretty nasty text message because I was in so much pain. I told her “fuck you, I am still keeping my date. Ankle has exploded so fuck you.” I didn’t get much sleep last night because I was hyper and because I was in pain. I have had a few hours sleep and the coffee helped. I am getting scared though. I am feeling like I am separating into two people. During the day I am Dr. Jekyll and during the night, I become Mr. Hyde. My moods are drastically different. If given the opportunity last night, I know I would have tried to take my life last night. I was that crazy that much. Now, because I am not struggling to sleep and not in crazy about of pain, it’s like a night and day experience. I have to ask myself, did I really think those things? I know the text message meant what I said and I know I wanted to talk to some one but who do you call at 3 in the morning?? I wrote a letter to Dr. Jobes, telling him of my demise and thanking him all the same time. I don’t know why I did that. I just thought he should know that I was struggling and used his works and it still failed me somehow. Maybe I wasn’t using it right. Maybe I am just a failure and can’t be helped. Maybe I am just too hopeless a case. I don’t know if I will send off the email. He doesn’t know me, not in a personal way anyway. I doubt that he remembers who I am other than the crazy guy that keeps asking him for his autograph in his works. I adore him. I admire his brilliancy in the field of suicidology. Yet why do I feel I should tell him I am committing suicide? Maybe I am hoping he will send me a reply that will give some affirmation that my life is not a total failure and loss. But if I don’t get a reply, how then will I feel? What if he takes my threat seriously and tries to hunt me down to get me help? I don’t know if I can take that chance.

Last night I wanted to chat so went to the twitter boards to see if there were any suicide chats going on. I know twitter isn’t a chat forum but there might be something under trends and such. No such luck but I found a ton of people writing their suicide notes or just making fun of being suicidal. Not my cup of tea. And NO WHERE did I see a prevention tweet. Usually I see one from the National Suicide prevention, Lifeline but there was zippo. Pretty sad to see all these tweets and no one really helping. I asked one person why she was writing a suicide note but didn’t get a response. It was four in the morning. I couldn’t believe the stupid tweets about suicide, such as my math book has so many problems it committed suicide. What is funny about that?? I just don’t get it. I did go to one forum for a text chat but it’s only from 2 pm to 2 am. I guess you can’t be suicidal outside those hours. I guess you could always go to the emergency room but by the time you are seen over the “real” serious cases, you are exhausted and just want to go home and sleep. I know I probably could have called my psychiatrist but I also know that she would be worried as I NEVER have called her that early in the morning unless it was a true emergency. I’m not saying I was not in bad space last night, I was, but I knew she would try and talk me into going to the ER to be admitted or at least evaluated. To me those things are one and the same and I wasn’t going to get near either of those places.

So hear it is day light and I am feeling better than I was 10 hrs ago. I didn’t do anything different. I just go a little sleep and went about my day like nothing happened. Guess the midnight demons are really back.