Tag: psychache

year anniversary of the death of my father

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

It’s been a year since my father passed away. All day I have been thinking about him and the events that went on that day. I feel really sad.

My therapist wanted me to do something nice for myself so I went to Starbucks and ordered my favorite latte and a breakfast sandwich. I tried writing in my journal but nothing was coming to me. I left to go to my PCP’s office to pick up my prescription. Walking there was okay. Then walking back to the train station, my right ankle started bothering me. I felt like going up to the ankle service as I was at MGH to make an appointment with the chief of the service but I didn’t. I just wanted to go home.

I had a half hour before the next bus and didn’t want to wait so I took a cab to walgreens. I left my prescription and said I would be back in an hour. I came home and felt really shitty. Both ankles were bothering me and I couldn’t stand it. I hobbled up the stairs, got the mail. I had to use the bathroom and then I went up to my room. I took three pain meds and 800 mg of ibuprofen. I am in serious pain. It started raining.

I had to call my psychiatrist so I did. I waited for her to call back. We talked for a bit. I told her I would call the ankle service to set up an appointment. I had to get on the computer to get the chief’s name as I couldn’t remember it. I called and even though I specified that I wanted the appointment with the chief, the secretary gave me the appointment with his PA. Asshole. It’s in a few weeks.

I just got notification that my prescriptions are ready. I need a nap. I will probably pick them up later after dinner. I am so tired. Being in chronic pain just takes so much out of you. I feel like a weakling because I just don’t have the stamina I once had to do things. It really depresses me that things I was able to do, I can’t do anymore. It’s very frustrating. I need a nap and then I am more tired than I was before the nap. It’s also frustrating because they are working on the damn house in the street over and they are so damn noisy. They are rebuilding the whole damn thing, it sounds like. Every day there is hammering and sawing. So hard to rest when you hear the noise.

I have been having intrusive memories most of the day. I keep remembering stuff that happened this day last year with the death of my father. I don’t know if I will ever get over his loss. There are so many mixed feelings I have for my father and none of it is good. He was an asshole and a miserable person who only thought of himself. He was vain and loved to stare at pictures of himself. He always had to dress in a shirt and dress pants. He never owned sweatpants or jeans. He always called me fat and ugly. No one contradicted him so I believed him. I still do and probably always will.

cold and rainy and tiring day

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

Cold and rainy and tiring day

I woke up at 0600 to use the bathroom. I was contemplating going back to sleep or not. But my exhaustion took over. Just in case, I set my alarm for 0945 so that I wouldn’t oversleep. I need to catch the 1050 bus to do the things I needed to do today. I woke up with my phone going off and a lot of fricken messages. I had to take my blood pressure pill and there were a lot of T messages saying there were delays, mostly for the buses I take but not the one I needed to be on at 1050, thank goodness. I went downstairs to brush my teeth and wash up a little bit. I really just wanted to crawl back in my bed but I had to see my psych.

I caught the bus. It was drizzling out and fricken cold. I was glad I wore my heavy sweatshirt and jacket. I went to the post office to mail my friend the stuff that got lost in the mail last week. I had bought myself the same things so I just mailed her my supply, which I will reorder next week. I am still pissed the post office sent her a ripped envelope. But it’s my fault for not sending the stuff in a box. I got the box today. It was a little big for the contents but they wouldn’t get lost. It’s insured so if they do lose it, I can get my money back. I then went to Starbucks.

I ordered my drink and when I went to get a seat, Carrie Underwood’s song “something in the water” came on the radio. I love that song. Once it was over and I had my drink and my breakfast sandwich, I played it on my MP3 player. I was listening to my country songs and not really thinking about things, when all of a sudden I did. I thought of my ex-therapist and my father and that combination just saddened me to no end. I thought I was going to cry I hurt so bad. It really sucked and my mood just faltered. I really just wanted to go home and skip my psychiatrist’s appointment but I had already made it this far. I didn’t do any writing, just played on my phone. I didn’t even read Twitter as I was just so upset.

It had sort of stopped raining when I left for the train station. I got there in plenty of time. My psych was late, as usual. We talked about my new therapist and how he was. She wrote down his name. I didn’t tell her about my nephew’s problems. I told her I was nearly crushed by the grief I felt about my former therapist and my father hitting me today. I also told her I have no motivation and need to “force” myself to do things. It just wears me out and I need a nap for a couple of hours every day. We talked about what we were going to do about my father’s anniversary. I still can’t believe he has been gone a year. Seems like only yesterday.

After my appointment, I went to the Square and got my haircut. The barber and I talked the whole time he cut my hair about a whole range of shit. I really love him. I got an awesome cut. He does a real good job so I don’t mind him talking my ear off. I caught the next bus home and as I walked in the door, my cousin called me. I was taking off my AFO and nearly fell. I stepped on the damn thing to keep from falling over, which hurt my foot. I must have taken the damn thing off a million times and this is the first time I trip over it. I just can’t be doing something else when it comes to my feet. Other than my foot being sore, I was okay and I don’t think I damaged the AFO. I am wicked exhausted. I just want my leftover Chinese food for supper and call it a night. I know I am probably going to pay for it tomorrow or tonight but I got nothing that needs doing until Sunday.

feeling depressed and the need for oblivion

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

Feeling depressed and the need for oblivion

I was reading some old blogs from late 2015. It’s good to read them because half the time, I forget what I write after I have written. I came across a few blogs about my former therapist and how we were struggling, even then. The blog I read was about a session where her phone wasn’t working and we had to text mid session. She wanted me, even then, to see someone new, face to face. I just felt really down because I have still haven’t found anyone in the last two months. Not that I have been actively searching. In the blog, I wrote that I gave her a number for a center in my town. It will be difficult to get there. I knew the street it was on. Monday I am going to call. I also found another therapist down the road from me. He will be easier to get to than this center but it’s worth a shot.

I am feeling hopeless because I am in pain and it’s both psychological and physical. My ankle pain started around 1500 and is still going strong, despite taking my strong pain meds. Then I read this blog and it activated my psychache because I am missing my therapist. I feel like she has done me wrong yet she really hasn’t. I just became too much for her to handle. I probably will do the same to my psychiatrist one day, even though we have been seeing each other for a greater length of time.

I just feel so horrible and that I am never going to get on top of this pain that I feel, physically. Meds are failing me because I am so used to them now that they aren’t touching my pain. And because I have a new doctor, I don’t think he trusts me to go on a longer acting pain med or go up on my current meds. Each prescription that he writes has my psych diagnoses are on the script. I find this stigmatizing because I am not on pain medication because of my mental illness. I had mental illness long before I had chronic pain.

I am having a hard time managing things right now. I am thinking of ending things but I can’t really go through with it. I just don’t have the time, least today, to take a bottle of pills. My heart is aching me deep inside. It is panging with the loss of my therapist of sixteen years. I want to end my suffering. I don’t have a noose or a firearm to end things quickly.

I have been suicidal most of my life. I know one day I will end my life by my own hand. Warmer weather is coming. Maybe I will go through with the plan to end things at my sacred place. I will drag my leg if I have to get there. Or maybe take a cab. I don’t know. I am in pain and suicide always enter my mind when it reaches a certain level and dealing with psychache doesn’t help the suicidality. I need rest from pain. I need cessation. I need oblivion. I need to die.

So it ends…

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

So it ends…

I had my final session with my Bozo today. It was emotional for both of us. I didn’t think she was going to let it happen but she did and so we are done. After sixteen years and countless sessions. She said I have three file cabinet drawers. Makes sense. I wrote a lot over the years. I wrote her endless letters. Given her journals to hold. Books to read.

We talked a lot about the past and how we went through her different offices over the years. The good times and the shitty ones. I honestly don’t know who was more choked up her or me. I tried to hold it together. I still am trying to. It’s really hard to keep it together but I know if I fall apart, I probably won’t be able to pull myself together.

I meant to do some errands before my appointment but my ankle was bothering me. I woke up late and my sister said it was icy out so I stayed in. Then it warmed up to like 50 degrees so after therapy, I went to the post office and then to the store to get my half and half. Tomorrow is going to be a snow storm so I wanted to have it so I can make coffee. I then called my psychiatrist to check in with her. I told her what I pretty much just wrote about the session. I was sobbing by then and having a hard time controlling myself. She asked of I would be going to the hospital tomorrow and I said no. It will be a blizzard and I am not going out. Then she asked if I would come in tonight and I said no cause I haven’t packed a bag. I would be there all night and that would suck. Plus walking to the store did my ankle no favors. I see her Friday.

I’ll be getting my bears back. I am so sad at this. They have been a part of my therapist’s office for so long. My therapist took good care of them, like she did of me for so long. Until, well, I don’t know what happened. I still am trying to figure it out but I don’t think I ever will. I brought it up today and she gave me the song and dance about how I pointed things out to her in the blog that opened her eyes. Things that she couldn’t ignore. I keep replaying the last few months. We really didn’t have a therapeutic relationship as we just fought. Finally I said, let’s just end this and she was like okay. And today was the day we finally said goodbye.