Tag: psychache

the need to write

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

The Need to Write

I watched the ballgame most of the way via Twitter. We won 5-3. I didn’t think I was going to last because I was really tired but I knew if they came back and I missed it I would be upset. I am glad I didn’t miss it.

So I lied down and of course pain coursed through my ankle and foot like they do, 10 times worse tonight. I had to take a strong pain pill and some Neurontin. I was taking all shots tonight. Fuck it. I don’t care. I need pain relief. My foot is on fire. My ankle is searing pain. And I have no fire extinguisher other than the Neurontin. My anxiety is up but I already took some Ativan because my right foot was doing this dance tonight that eventually got painful. It just kept on curling up on me, on it’s own. Annoying.

I was able to sleep for a few hours but then woke up because I had to go pee. Damn bladder. Now I am up and I don’t think I can go back to sleep, least not for the next hour or two. I am surprised that I just slept a few hours given the amount of medication that I took. I am still feeling a little paranoid and psychotic. The voices the last few days have not been pleasant. I can tolerate them but it is exhausting. It takes all that I have to ignore their constant bickering, their sarcastic remarks, their criticism, and their commands. If I am doing something one way, they want me to do it another. It’s tiring. I had to take 12 mg of trilafon yesterday to counteract them. I didn’t take it all at once, just every 4-6 hours I took a 4 mg pill. It was the only way to quiet them down.

Later today, I plan on printing out my book. It’s going to be a huge deal because I have 140 pages to go through. Granted the first few are just fluff, just the title page and then copyright page, stuff like that. I want to see if I can do this without an editor. My stories are short so if I take them one at a time, it should be a piece of cake. And unlike my first book, there is nothing to really trigger me because it’s mostly about my psychotic experiences, which I think are funny and amusing. Course, when they were happening they were scary as all hell. But now they are not that way anymore.

I texted my therapist that I was in pain and lazy because I might not be making the pumpkin cupcakes like I wanted to. I am still cursing the Peapod delivery for not delivering the right kind of pumpkin. Now I have to go to the store and get it. But I don’t want to go out later today. I know I am going to be tired as shit as it’s in the middle of the night and I am awake. Plus, it’s going to be raining most of the day. I should have gone to the store yesterday but I was too tired.

Terrible Night

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

Terrible night

I just watched, via Twitter, the first presidential debate in my life and it was horrible. I am really afraid of what is going to happen when Trump is not president. I think a civil war might break out or something else. I am very scared of these times.

Pain has come back. My foot is throbbing and burning me. I can’t take another dose of pain meds for another half hour. I am really depressed. On Twitter there was other talk about suicide and talking out about it. It’s kind of bullshit because if you do talk about it on social media, you might get the police at your door the next day. I also found out through the State Police there was a jumper off the Tobin. He is alive and was taken to the hospital. I feel bad for him.

I haven’t heard from my psychiatrist. I guess she hasn’t read my blogs yet. It bothers me that she hasn’t read them. I don’t know why. They are old news now, sort of. I still can’t believe that she gave me a 4 week appointment. I might be gone by the next time I am supposed to see her.

There is so much I want to write about how I am feeling but I am scared someone is going to call the cops on me if I write it. I just feel so low and suicidal. I am tired of living with pain. I can’t go on with this bullshit anymore. Tomorrow I have to go up the hill to get the car. It’s going to be a hike. I don’t know if I will be able to do it but it’s too late now to cancel the reservation. My other car that I have been using isn’t available so I had to go up the street rather than down. I will be wearing my AFO so hopefully there won’t be any problems.

I am nervous about seeing my therapist tomorrow. I know we need to talk about my suicidal stuff but I really don’t want to because she doesn’t listen all the time. She tends to talk too much and then I just shut down. She does this every single time I get suicidal. Then I get mad and we fight. I just don’t know what to do anymore. I just want to die. And I don’t get why she wants me to live. She keeps saying that she can’t imagine a world without me in it. She doesn’t understand how tiring it is to live when you don’t want to. I’m not saying it’s easy to give up because I have tried to kill myself many times and failed. I just want to try one more time and if it doesn’t work, then I will stop trying. If I should succeed, then so be it. It was meant to be.

This talk is what is going on in my head. I know that it will hurt many people in my life. I am not stupid about the pain suicide causes. But living while being in pain is worse. It tears you up like you won’t believe. And there is no relieving this pain, this psychache. There was a time where I kept track of it. I had a scale that I used. But my physical pain overshadows my emotional pain so it’s become useless to me. There are other assessments used for the treatment of suicide but my therapist is a fink and won’t use them. She just want to know the “one thing” that will make me less suicidal and that is all she gets from the forms. Drives me crazy.

Sometimes good things happen at 2 AM

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

Sometimes good things happen at 2 A.M.

Last night I was having a hell of a time sleeping. I was in pain but it was bearable. I was more restless than in pain. Then I got overtired, which is never good for me because I tend to dissociate and write bad things. But this time, I wrote a blog that was well received by all involved, though I barely remember writing it. I just remember saying to myself, I have to get to at least 850 words. I did and a little more for a cushion. I then sent it off to every Tom, Dick, and Harry I could think of that would like it, including my therapist and psychiatrist.

When I had therapy today, that was all she wanted to talk about. The blog was amazing to her. She wants me to get it published somewhere. Where, I have no clue. She wanted to know how I could write that good. I told her it was 2 in the morning and that is typically when I do my best writing. I don’t know what it is about that hour, but things come together and click. I told her it was another dissociative writing because I was in and out of consciousness while writing it. I was so damn tired and just wanted to sleep but couldn’t because I needed 850 words. I read it this morning and it was pretty good. I feel proud of myself for writing it.

All we talked about in therapy was what I wrote about in the blog. If she had a psychache scale handy, she would have made me fill one out. I wasn’t up for that. I could barely feel psychache or perturbation or press. I was feeling sleepy and I just wanted to get espresso at Starbucks along with something pumpkin. Or maybe get a burrito. We did talk about my death date and she wanted to know what it was but I wouldn’t tell her. She is hopeful that I will take it off the table. I am still ambivalent about the date, myself. There are some things that I want to do before I die in the next few weeks.

I asked her if she liked pumpkin and she said she did. I told her I was planning on making pumpkin goodies. Now I can pawn on her half the cake I am planning to make so it won’t go to waste. I feel good about this. I can also hand off some cupcakes, too. That is if I find the recipe for them. If I don’t, I am sure I can get one off the internet. I just hope we have hot water by then. Apparently, my brother-in-law is waiting for a part to come in from his work in order to fix our heater. Why the hell he can’t get it from Home Depot is a mystery to me.

I felt therapy went a little better than yesterday’s session. I talked a little bit more than she did. She wishes that I could sleep before midnight so I wouldn’t have the overtired dissociative writing episodes but then, my good writing wouldn’t come of it. She half ordered me to go to bed before midnight. I laughed because I have tried many times to sleep before midnight and usually I don’t succeed. Sometimes I do, but it is rare. It all depends on my pain levels and lately, they haven’t been good to me.

bubbles, torments, and suicide

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

Bubble, Torments, and Suicide

I don’t think I am going to get to sleep tonight. I am in severe pain again. I wish I could fall asleep like my body wants me to but my head and pain are keeping that from happening. I am not only in physical pain, but I am also in emotional pain. I have that darkness in my chest again and it’s weighing on me severely. It’s making things hard to see clearly. Everything is dark. I am again thinking of taking my life because of this darkness. I can see no other way through it, this time.
I have been taking my pain meds around the clock the last several days in an effort to control the physical pain. It works but soon as it wears off, I need to take another dose. Such it is with short acting medicines. I rather be on short acting ones than longer dose ones, though. I have been on long acting ones and frankly they messed me up more psychologically than my mental illness. I vowed never to go through that bullshit again. I will continue to take the short acting medicine because it is what I am used to and doesn’t hold that many side effects like it once did. I am used to it now.
Because it’s so late at night, the midnight demons have come out. I am again thinking of ending my life because that is what I think about at this hour. I can’t sleep because of pain, pain that the medicine can’t touch. The pain is called psychache, or emotional, psychological pain. There is no remedy for this pain. And it sucks. So, suicide becomes the method of choice to alleviate this pain. It doesn’t mean that I will act on it tonight. Far from it. Just thinking about ending my life and imagining about going through with it is enough to soothe the demons. You might think that is a crazy notion, but it’s true, least for me it is. I find that imagining my death is soothing. I don’t know why. I guess it is because it helps to control something I can’t control, like this pain in my chest that won’t go away.
The pain is stubborn. It resists all measures of relief. Love doesn’t help it, neither does someone caring for me. It’s a funny thing to be in this type of constriction when you want to end your life. All you can see is the end point and that is your death. You block out the people that care and love you. It’s like you just enter a world that is just filled with pain and no matter how many times someone says they love you, it just bounces off and you can’t feel it. It torments you because you know you are hurting that person by not reciprocating that love and care. But it’s too much pain you feel and you are locked in this bubble that no one can really touch. You are alone in this world, though people have constantly told you that you are not. It’s all a fallacy.
Psychache has other features that make it so that suicide is constantly on your mind. Perturbation is one. The need to constantly feel something and the need to do something to ease the psychache. And then you have Press. Press is something that is felt deep inside. It’s the inner workings similar to stress but takes on a different meaning. It is what drives the perturbation to new heights and carries the pain to new levels. All three when at a significant standing means suicide is imminent. Dr. Shneidman calls this the suicidal model of suicide. It’s a complicated but simple meaning of these three Ps. But that is for another discussion. I just know right now that my levels of these three Ps are varying like the weather. It is most difficult when my physical pain is increased. Unfortunately, when my physical pain is at it’s worse, I am immobile to do anything to cause my life to end. I keep telling myself, I will do it the following day when my pain is not at its worse. Fortunately, in the morning, I no longer feel that pressing need to end my life so I live to see another day.
Right now I am at that point where the three Ps are pressing on my heart very eagerly. I can hardly breathe, the weight is so strong. I don’t know what to do to make myself feel better. That is why I am writing this stupid blog. I hope that my thoughts get heard and someone can relate to them. I am not in danger, let me make myself clear on that. As much as I wish to die at this very moment, I don’t have a clear plan in doing so. It is the frustrating part of being suicidal. You want to end your life but you do not have the means to do so. It is sad. All I can do is wait until the meds kick in to ease my physical pain and then I will sleep for a few hours until they wear off and I need another dose of meds again. Such is the cycle.