Tag: psychache

Too Early to be in a bad mood

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

Too early to be in a bad mood

I woke up in a bad mood. I am trying not to let it get to me but it’s so difficult. I didn’t have any bad dreams nor am I in a lot of pain. My mood just sucks. I think it is because I emailed my psychiatrist last night and she hasn’t responded. It really makes me angry when she doesn’t say anything when I email her. Even one word and I would be happy because it would acknowledge that she got the email.

I plan on changing my sheets today. I was going to make sauce but decided that changing my sheets were more important. I am in too much of a mood to go downstairs and be with my mother. I really want to make pancakes for breakfast but my mother is still home. She usually leaves around 0930 to go to my aunt’s house. If I am still awake I will make them. I took some pain pills so I can do what I have to do today. My ankle is starting to throb so I just decided to head it off before it got worse. It gets worse and I won’t be able to do anything today that I want to do.

I still am feeling sad over the loss of my father. I guess that is one of the reason I am not in a good mood this morning. I got him on my brain. It is really tough to lose a parent, especially one that has caused you so much turmoil in your life. On one hand, you are grateful you don’t have to deal with his idiocy anymore but at the same time, you miss it. I remember at the last gathering we had, maybe Christmas, he was being a real jerk to me. Kept on making fun of me and what I was gathering on my plate. I didn’t have that much food on it but he thought I shouldn’t be eating that much. He was being such an ass. I hated him. He always treated me like I was doing something bad. I will never forget his laugh because he thought he was being funny. People have been telling me to remember the good memories and I laugh. There are no good memories with him. Only bad ones, some worse than others. He was never a kind, loving man. That is why this is so difficult. I never got the chance to tell him off, not that I would. I tolerated him because it was expected of me. If I had a choice, I wouldn’t see him for the rest of his days. Instead, I was there for the very last breath he took and it still haunts me till this day.

Voices and pain are keeping me up

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

Voices and pain are keeping me up

I have taken the trilafon for the voices and the pain meds for my pain but I am still restless. I am not in a lot of pain but I just feel agitated. The voices keep changing the lyrics of the songs I am listening to. If they have anything to do with death, they want me to kill myself. I am very annoyed that the two doses of trilafon that I took has had no effect on the voices and my head is full of noise.

One of the songs I heard tonight was “No Surprise” by Daughtry. I keep thinking of my plan and how it should be no surprise that I will die. I have been talking of ending my life for years now. It’s not like it is a fresh idea that came to my head.

Away from the Sun is now playing… It’s perfect because I am so far down away from the sun that shines into the darkest place. But the thing is that I am not feeling so down. I am actually happy that I have made this decision to end my life, voices or no voices. I am under siege of pain and I cannot take it anymore. The pain is driving me and ending what little resources I have left to fight. It’s taken my job away from me. It’s taken my quality of life away. I cannot brush my damn teeth any more because of pain. I cannot take long showers because I cannot stand more than 10 minutes at a time without my back cramping up on me or my ankle killing me. What kind of life is that?

It really sucks that the voices tonight haven’t responded to my medication tonight. I might need another dose. Music has helped with drowning out the voices. It’s the only thing that really helps, even though it risks having more musical hallucinations, which are not fun. I changed my music genre tonight to alternative 90s rock rather than country music.

I am just going to leave without a trace. No one will know and that is the important thing. I am scare that I will be rescued. I haven’t worked out the details of my death. It’s still hazy. But I have time. I won’t go unless I have finished writing my suicide note that I started.

I started writing my suicide note but I am having trouble with it. I still haven’t thought about what to write, really. I know no one is to blame for my death. My doctors have done the best they can to try and help me and I appreciate all they have done for me over the years. But the demons are too strong. The QOL is just not there anymore and it is making me feel really depressed. I can’t deal anymore. Game over. Do not collect $200, do not pass go. I am in jail without a get out of jail free card.

Fucking Ankle

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

Fucking ankle

I left the house today so that I could give my AC a rest from working. I finished the Adler chapter and then decided to write for a bit before catching the next bus home. Before going to the bus stop, I stopped at the meat market to get hamburgers for dinner. Everything was fine until about three stores down from the meat market. My ankle seized up and I couldn’t move it and it hurt like hell. I pretty much dragged it to the bus stop and waited for the bus. I was in such agony. I don’t understand how this could have happened as I haven’t done anything in three fucking days. The meat market wasn’t that far out of my way. It was just maybe half block away from Starbucks.

I made it home, almost in tears. It took forever for me to get up the stairs. I immediately took my pain meds soon as I got in my room before undressing and changing into my PJs. The damn coffee I drank affected my bowels soon after I tried to settle in so I had to go back down the stairs to go to the bathroom. It was torture going back up to my room. I had to stop a few times because I just couldn’t bear any weight on my foot. This is the worst it has been in a while. I had woke up in pain but thought I could work my way through it. Next time I will just stay home.

My mother cooked the hamburgers and I found that my middle sister was over the house. She was making herself a grilled cheese. We were all talking and stuff while I was in pain. The burgers were good. It was the only thing I had to eat all day. Then my sister said that she wanted to move into my office. I got pissed off. The only way she is moving into MY OFFICE is over my dead body. She will be abandoning her two kids so she could live at home. Fuck that. I am not going to be around for that shitshow. And who the hell does she think she is thinking she can just move MY STUFF so she can have a place to sleep? The nerve.

The pain meds made me kind of nauseous but now I have a migraine. Guess the meds didn’t make me sick to my stomach more than my idiotic sister did. I have to get up and get some migraine pills but I can barely stand. FUCK. I texted my therapist and told her I give her my word that if my sister does clear off my office, I will kill myself. I have never been so damn serious in my life about this. Sure, in a few weeks it won’t really matter because I will kill myself anyways but until then I still have a chance of reconsidering. Not so with this bullshit. Just put a nail in my coffin why don’t ya.

exhausted from being tired

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

exhausted from being tired

It’s another night of pain so of course I am up. I am so tired and exhausted from fighting pain all the damn time. You think I would be able to sleep. Lately, I have been taking my pain meds with coffee to fight off the drowsiness effect of the pills. I do this to avoid sleeping all day but then I have nights, like tonight, where I can’t sleep.

I have been thinking more about my plan. I have been crying most of the night because I know I will be hurting everyone around me and then some. I keep having this argument in my head of what my therapy session will be like tomorrow. I told my therapist in a text I was done. That things were over. I was half expecting a response but I didn’t get one. Then I texted her that I would have cancelled session but it was too late to do so. I told her I might not be in the mood to talk, pretty much like I was today.

I don’t really know when I will go through with my plan. I know it’s not going to be this week because it’s too damn hot. I want the weather to be cooler as the place that I have chosen is outdoors. I thought about writing a will tonight but I was too tearful. All day I have been tearful, which is weird because it takes so much for me to cry. I guess the pain has finally broken me down.

My sister texted me earlier about a party they are having for my uncle. I guess she was inviting me to go. But I hate going over there because that means an all day affair and I really don’t want to spend more than a couple of hours at my cousins. I will just be bored. I can be bored at home. Besides, more than a few hours sitting or standing for any length of time always brings me more pain in my leg. Sorry Uncle Bob but I can’t see you because my pain is too great. Just another reason for me to off myself.

I kind of feel like I should hang around till after the election to find out who will win. Trump made a huge blunder today and his supporters are all covering for him saying “he didn’t mean it that way”. Like hell he didn’t. Then he tweeted saying “what he meant to say”, which made no fucking sense. It was an outright lie. Yet he has the audacity to call Clinton a liar. My vote won’t count because I’ll be fucking dead. I know I definitely don’t want to be around for the shitshow when the baby loses nor be around should he win. The country will be going to hell and war. Such a sad state of affairs and then they wonder why the suicide rate is so high. I think there was another suicide tonight on the red line. There was a medical emergency that called for shuttle bus services so I can only guess there was a jumper.

It’s a strange feeling when you have the power to end your life whenever you want to. I know that I could go to the hospital but for what exactly? Hospitals haven’t exactly proven to save lives, not when it comes to suicide anyway. They usually precipitate a suicide. The only regret that I have is that I won’t be finishing my reading challenge for the year. I was so looking forward to reading at least 40 books this year and unless I spend every waking moment reading in the next few weeks, I just don’t see it happening. I have 25 books to go. I have no idea what will become of the books I do have. Some of them are brand spanking new. I suppose they can be donated to the library. I know that my suicide books I want donated to my therapist. She should have a suicide library. It won’t be doing me any good anymore.

I keep thinking about how to tell my psychiatrist goodbye. That is going to be tough and tricky. I have known her longer than I have known my therapist. I have written her multiple goodbye letters over the course of my suicidality. I never once gave her any of them. The last email that I sent her that was sort of a goodbye she sectioned me so I have been cautious about giving her letters such as these. I give too soon and I could be found and hospitalized against my will.

I have noticed a pattern over the years. Every year between August through October I become wicked suicidal, more so than at any other time of year. It has been going on since I was a teenager. Back then, you could expect to be admitted for months. Now you are lucky to be admitted for more than a week. This time, I am not going to be admitted, I am just going to follow through with my ideas. I am tired of living. I am tired of being in severe physical pain. I am too complex to be taken seriously by my practitioners. My therapist said with bated breath today that she loved me. I could tell it wasn’t really true because she really hesitated before saying it. It was like she had to prepare herself to say it quickly so to get it out of the way. I will miss her. I know my death will destroy her but I can’t help that. I tried to get her to get rid of me years ago but she still held on. It’s her fault it will hurt. I told her she could leave at any stage of the game. Now the game is over, I’m afraid. Stalemate.