Tag: psychache

Saturday blog 22062019

by Midnight Demon, posted in Bipolar Disorder, blogging, Chronic pain, chronic physical pain, CRPS, depression, mood disorders

Saturday Blog 22062019

I’ve not had a good day. I slept poorly and then fought with my sister throughout the day. Whenever I called her out, the madder she got. She started going through my stuff and when I told her to stop, she refused, saying that I needed to go through my stuff. I told her she wouldn’t like me going through her stuff so stop it. Then she got pissed off and wanted to through shit in my room. She was hauling stuff but I don’t see most of it. My nephew came home from where ever he was and helped me clear some stuff in my room that didn’t seem so overwhelming to him. He did a good job, I helped but it hurt. It took hours for the stabbing in my ankle to stop. It is still sore but I decided to make a marinara sauce anyways as baking cookies would take too much out of me.

I called my psych a little after three. She wanted to know how I was doing with the UTI. I said I was ok and still have symptoms but feel a little better than yesterday. I still haven’t had a decent meal. I had two protein bars yesterday and today I had some cottage cheese with pineapple and then some ice cream. I could barely finish the ice cream, which was not even a full bowl. I kind of feel sick now but at least something is in my stomach.

I weighed myself this morning and I am down another five pounds due to no appetite. I am trying to eat but I am so damned stressed with my sister and now losing my psych. I really feel like I am living with my father as I never know when she is going to jump down my fricken throat. I called her a bully and she laughed at me. Then said she needed to put a stick up my ass, but that isn’t a bully. Fucking bitch. I can’t stand living here but I have no place to go. There is a shit load of waiting lists for disabled people looking for housing, which is so fucking stupid as they are constantly building places. I don’t understand why some of the new housing isn’t for subsidized rents and stuff. Makes no sense.

As I couldn’t sleep last night and felt like I was going to puke, I wrote my psych a letter. It was a little sentimental. I cried again and then some during the night. I kept on having weird dreams. One was of my little cousin (who is 3 or 4) was on my dining room table but she was like 1 or 2. My sister (the bitch one) kept telling me my great grandmother was coming over. It was said at least three times. In the dream it was my father’s mother and I never met her. She died before I was born. Another dream had me bending for something when my mother walks by and uses my back as a support, pushing on it and I woke up with screaming in pain. That part of my back was hurting. There was a third dream but I don’t remember it now. I finally gave up sleeping around 1230, wanting to make cookies but my stupid sister was going through my shit and I knew it would be hell if I baked even though it was a nice cool day. I am so mad at her. She doesn’t understand a damn thing about what I go through and every time I try to get her to get it or at least try and understand, it falls on deaf ears.

This morning when I took my meds, I noticed I didn’t take it yesterday. That was probably why I was feeling so terrible. I thought I had taken them as I took off the alarm. I got results of the urine culture and it was negative. I hope when I finish taking the antibiotics, it remains clear. I am still having pain when peeing. My last dose of antibiotics is Monday night. Monday is going to be a hard day. I am already dreading it as I am not sure how it will be. I have so much to talk to my psych about yet I am not sure there will be enough time to get through it all. I really want to make sure that she will sign off when I want to have top surgery. Also need to work out what to do when I get into a bad spot again. The thought of her not being there is not making me feel easy. I am going to give her my business card that has my contact info on it so in case she doesn’t have it or for some reason, I can’t get in touch with her, she will at least have a way to contact me. I will feel better knowing this.

I’m glad my night meds include Ativan as I need one right now. I am so fricken anxious for some reason. I left the marinara sauce to cool and fear of being reprimanded for leaving it. I hate feeling like I am walking on eggshells in my own house! I can’t deal with the stress. I have enough of it dealing with chronic pain and trying to sleep as well as keep my appointments with my healthcare providers. I haven’t been able to do the new PT exercises. I really haven’t been feeling well and have had too much on my mind.

We don’t have to talk, I just want to hear your voice

by Midnight Demon, posted in Bipolar Disorder, blogging, Chronic pain, chronic physical pain, CRPS, depression, mood disorders, suicide

We don’t have to talk, I just want to hear your voice

So I am going to try and crank this out as the Sox are playing and Luke Combs, Lady A, and Matt Snell continue to break my heart. This maybe long as there is a lot of stuff to talk about since I haven’t written in a week. So grab some coffee or something.

I’ve been battling a UTI (urinary tract infection) for the past week and a half. My pcp did not consult with me on antibiotics so the first course of treatment did not work. I finished on Sunday and Monday I had the foul smelly, cloudy urine again. I had called the pcp office but it was late in the day and no one got back to me. Tuesday I was able to get a hold of the idiot RN and told him my symptoms. I had an appointment with the new therapist and hoped he would get back to me as I was passing blood at this point. My results came back early afternoon but I got no call from my pcp or provider letter. So Wed I am hurting really bad. I am passing blood clots, blood, and mucus and it was extremely painful doing so. Bladder pain was terrible and I kept losing control of my urine as the urges to go were not to be messed with. At one point I waited a bit too long and thankfully had a diaper on because otherwise I would have had a puddle on my rug as I couldn’t even open the door before losing it. I was getting pissed (no pun intended). I called the office and the RN said that I did have infection (ya think) and my doc called in a prescription. Again my doc DID NOT CALL ME! I asked which one and I said I have no effect with that one I need to be on this one. Wed all I had to eat was some Ramen noodles. I didn’t want to eat or drink anything. Thursday I slept all day. I only ate when my protein bars came in. I had wanted to be up before my night meds but I wasn’t so the med alarm woke me from sleep. My mother too had called which annoyed me more than the phone alarm. I had flank pain but it was minor. I had 2 doses of antibiotics. I emailed my psych to ask her if I should go to the ER as I thought I was dehydrated. We fiddled with how much I was to drink but in the end my stomach only took 3 oz (90 mL). I then felt nauseous and I went to bed. My psych wanted me to get in touch with her today. I said ok.

5 am this morning, I woke up with worse flank pain and felt really lousy. It still hurt to pee but I wasn’t passing clots or mucus. I emailed my psych about this and went back to sleep after taking some Tylenol. I just figured it was nothing but maybe soreness from not eating and drinking anything. When I woke up to my morning meds, my psych had emailed back that I should contact my pcp as flank pain is not something you get with a UTI. Shit. I knew it wasn’t but I really didn’t want to go to the ER. I wanted to bake cookies. So I emailed her I would go to the ER as I wasn’t contacting my PCP again to talk with his idiot RN. I have no idea why good doctors have idiot staff. When I got to the hospital, I called his office just to let him know I was in the ED. Within fifteen minutes my PCP calls me and I tell him what was going on. He said that was the right thing and sent me on my way. ED ran tests but in the end it was to drink more (I laughed at this) and keep the course of antibiotics. OK. On the way home, I sent a message to PCP asking him to do some more urine tests to make sure the damn infection I have is fucking gone. I then sent one to my psych. She responded by asking what did they say. I told her and then asked if she wanted me to call her over the weekend. Our last weekend. I haven’t heard back, yet.

On Monday 17 June, I met with my psych. She told me some very bad, horrible news that has left me feeling numb but really angry at the institution we worked at. Her department wanted her to step down from whatever position and she said no. So they terminated her, June 30th is her last day. My last appointment with her is June 24, this coming Monday. I still have not processed it but I tried on Wed to write something. I knew it had been more than a few days since writing a blog. For the first time in almost 7 years, I lost my words. I couldn’t even begin to write about this and still am tearing up about it. I have been thinking about her and all we have went through. Wed night I wrote her something then couldn’t sleep. I didn’t go to bed till I don’t even remember the hour. Must have been late/early as I slept almost all of yesterday. There is no way in hell I could write what the last 26 years have been like in a paragraph or even in one long blog. I wrote two pages until my brain and emotions were fried. Then I kept fine tuning it. Adding stuff, fixing, punctuating, grammar, you name it. After the third go round I said fuck it and sent it to her with a PS saying that this might not be grammatically correct or something to that effect. In the email, I told her to open it at her leisure, maybe with a few tissues and I would bring a box on Monday.

She said I would be assigned another psychiatrist in the adult department, which so far I haven’t. She wants to have a Lamictal level drawn the next time I see my PCP so if he responds to the urine tests, I will ask him then. I have been preoccupied with her leaving and the UTI that I forgot. I tried not to break down though I did shed some tears. She asked if I could come in next week and I didn’t know what to say. She just shook her head yes and I said ok. The end of June is coming and it would be our last time together for a while. She said she is trying to find some other academic home and then when she gets sets up she plans on calling me. She said her email and phone number wouldn’t change (I am not 100% that is true. I know with me, I was cut off the day they let me go. They might have different stuff for MDs.) I thought of making her my marinara sauce, which I am still planning on doing on Sunday. I wanted to back cookies for her. I am hoping to do so tomorrow if I don’t have an all nightery with pain or emotions. Last night, I realized not only did I not have a copy of my second book on ANY of the 8 thumb drives I had, I also no longer have roots holding my tree up. It was a story I wrote that I don’t think I ever published on my blog. It was about my therapist and psychiatrist keeping me here. One of the roots said goodbye for reasons I still don’t know what they were. Now the other root is leaving me and I have nothing holding me up.

Tuesday was a bigger nightmare as I was supposed to meet with a new therapist. I was so fucking nervous because I knew if she didn’t want to take me on or I didn’t like her off the bat, I would have NO mental health services at all, none! So I went to the appointment and she asked me a shit ton of questions. I carefully worded and didn’t elaborate on anything that would lead to my suicidality. Least not until she said I was discharged from the psych unit and I immediately wanted to die. She asked if I was suicidal. I said no and then asked what would I end it when I leave here. I said no. Throughout, she kept on saying my psychiatrist terminated me and I must feel abandoned. When I asked where do we go from here, she asked what did I want to do, like she had no interest in seeing me ever again. That felt so welcoming. Mind you, when she went into the waiting room she called for someone with my birthname. So we didn’t exactly start off the right foot. I told her I had a three session rule and then I would decide if I would stay on or not. Though, if at three sessions I didn’t, there was no where else for me to go. She asked who I would call should I get suicidal and I said my psych and then it dawned on me, she wasn’t going to be there anymore and fuck, I damn near lost it.

I wrote to my psych and said the therapist said I feel abandoned and I said I didn’t. My psych responded saying I may feel that way. I wrote back I would if this was good bye and it is more of a see you later, or is it? She never responded back. Later that day, Luke Combs came out with the song, Even though I am leaving, and I just about lost it. It was perfect to all the stuff I feel about my psych. This cannot be goodbye.

If I don’t write next week, please know it is most likely due to emotional overload and cannot find the words to the hurt or whatever I feel. I see the therapist Thursday.

2019May13 Misery and Insomnia Continues

by Midnight Demon, posted in Bipolar Disorder, Chronic pain, chronic physical pain, CRPS, depression, mental illness, mood disorders, painsomnia, physical pain, psychache, suicidality

2019May13 Misery and Insomnia Continues

I barely slept last night. I was up till around 0530 because my ankle decided to go up to a level 12 at midnight and stay that way most of the night. It went down to an 8 when I woke up around 10 but after I brushed my teeth, made lunch, washed my dishes, and folded my bedding, pain shot back up higher. It is now around a level 13. I am so disgusted.

I was so frustrated and had bad urges in the early morning hours. I was in such despair. I realized around 4 am that if I go in the hospital, I am not going to have my meds at my bedside. I would have to walk to the nurse’s station to get meds and then walk back to my room. Walking is not a good thing when you are in a fricken flare. So I emailed my psych this and haven’t had a response. I sent her another email asking her if she is going to force me in the hospital. I am done with messaging her today. Either she responds or she doesn’t. I told her I can talk to her tonight or tomorrow, or the rest of the week. I don’t care but I am not going in the hospital. It isn’t like being on a psych unit you have a call bell to have the nurse come to your room. And because the nurse needs to scan your wrist band to give out meds, it is just not a good situation for me.

I am fricken exhausted. Past two nights I barely slept more than 8 hours. I am running on fumes. I had coffee because I needed it. I hate this is another day of not being able to do anything in my room. I haven’t done my PT exercises and don’t care to. I have been doing the calf thing trying to get it loose. I have not used the new band for the foot exercises. I am just so frustrated I don’t want to do a damn thing. I have been doing the foot thing where I am trying to get my foot to be flat. Because my calf is tight, my foot is always bearing on my toes rather than be flat. I have been this way for years so I don’t think that is going to change. I tried it while I was on the bus and train Friday and it was killing my muscles. I am just not used to it. I try and hold it for a little longer.

My psych just responded and wants me to call her tonight or tomorrow morning. For some reason I am scared. Even though I have known her more than half my life, I always fear she will throw me in the hospital and throw the key away. I know this irrational. So I will call her later. Rather face the music today than tomorrow. I will be a nervous wreck if I wait till tomorrow morning.

To the person who commented on my blog yesterday, I hope you are feeling a little better today. I know you are probably hurting a lot. You will get through it even though it might seem impossible right now. Hope you are continuing to read my blog so you see this message.

I took some gaba to help with the pain. Not sure that was an good idea if I got to talk to my psych tonight. Last night I was a little dissociative before trying to sleep at 130am. I have been doing anything and everything I can to control the pain. It most likely is flaring due to the weather. Temp dropped about 14 degrees last night. I so cold. I had to put another blanket on my bed because I put my fleece one in my bag I was planning to take to the hosp. I still am hoping to be a free bird this week. Not sure yet. Will find out when I talk to my psych tonight. Hence why I am scared. She very insistent Friday when we met. I know she is right but I am getting upset on how it will be and it hasn’t even happened yet. A friend said to “let it work” but I am very sure she has never been in the hospital recently, or at least where I live. If I had a therapist, maybe things would be better. The social worker got back to me about the therapist situation. Unfortunately the director is in Africa for a few weeks so she doesn’t know what is going on until he is back. Wonderful. Just reinforces the notion I am a hopeless case no one wants to take on. Other might be helped but after 28 years of getting help, it hasn’t worked out yet for me.

2019May10 worries on my mind, pain in my heart

by Midnight Demon, posted in Bipolar Disorder, blogging, Chronic pain, chronic physical pain, CRPS, depression, mood disorders, suicide

2019May10 worries on my mind, pain in my heart

I saw my psych today and the first thing she said to me was “have a mustache.” I laughed. I had taken a selfie while at the bus stop and when it popped up on my timeline on FB, I really noticed it being darker than it was even a week ago. Sometimes it is the small things you don’t notice right away. I sort of have been in a gender incongruent/dysphoric mood today as I feel like my breasts are a thousand pounds each. Also feeling bloated doesn’t help. I am not sure why I am bloated as I haven’t eaten gassy foods today, unless it is leftover gas from the burrito I had last night. I am just uncomfortable with my body right now and I don’t like it. I loathe myself so much right now.

My appointment kind of went as planned, with the exception of the hospital being my choice. She is insisting on me going in the hospital next week when my sisters come home. I told her to please find out of the psych unit prescribes pain medication because if they don’t, there will be problems. I most certainly won’t be going in if I can’t have pain meds. I am to call her Tuesday so she can find out about beds as we sort of agreed on a Wed admission. I honestly don’t know if things will be better by then. I doubt it as I am getting closer and closer to an attempt. We didn’t discuss the means, thank god. But she is not letting this get worse as it already has been.

I have already packed a bag. I just need to see if I packed shorts because I don’t want to be hot as the temps have been climbing up. I also need to make sure I have extra underwear as I have been leaking a lot more than usual lately. The increase in the pain meds have caused more retention than I expected. I am still hoping it will level off but who knows when that will be. It has been a few weeks since I started the new dose so maybe a few weeks more as my body adjusts. Course this also goes with how many breakthrough meds I have been taking as that also causes retention. I honestly don’t get the signal to pee until I am practically ready to burst. This is due to the nerve damage caused by cauda equina syndrome. Even though it has been more than 10 years, I still have damage that is permanent.

After I left my psych’s office and was on the way to the train home, I got hit with the biggest heart ache. It hit me so hard, I could barely breathe. It has been bad like this the past three or four days now. I really don’t know what brings it on. But I guess that is the nature of psychache, just comes on when you least expect it. Then when I came home and got into my PJs, my damn ankle exploded in pain. Pain got worse as I have been typing this blog. I was getting hungry so just had a protein bar. I was going to have Nutella on a flour tortilla but doesn’t look like that will be happening. I hope I can sleep tonight. My psych was astounded when I told her I had 5 shots of espresso. I can handle it, though I probably should have had four. I don’t think it will keep me up as much as the pain will. I am already experiencing sensory overload as noises have been bothering me. My mother is playing her dice game in the kitchen. I swear I’d like to toss them in the trash one day. Fucking hate the noise!! Nothing worse than hard plastic hitting glass. And she seems to be playing it whenever she is in the kitchen now, with the blasted TV at full volume. I just want to die and I know the night is only going to get worse between my psychache and physical pain.