suicidal self vs DID

I was reading an article tonight about DID, or Dissociative Identity Disorder (formerly known as Multiple personality disorder). It got me thinking in a lot of ways that I will ask my therapist about. I am wondering if I went into an “alter” last week when I became really suicidal. My pdoc thinks that I am just not made to be menstruating, that anything to do with it, I just become suicidal. But it’s so strange that I become this suicidal maniac until I start bleeding. Then I am back to my status quo. I woke up differently on Thursday than I was feeling on Wednesday. I still feel like I should be dead but it’s like last Tuesday was eons ago rather than just last week. I don’t know if I am making any sense. I just know that I was different than I am now and I am trying to figure it out. Nothing triggering me into being someone else. I just figured that since no one was home, they would have a hard time finding me and then it would be too late to save me. I am not going to say what I was planning on doing.

This “different” state happens all the time and I should know by now that it is hormonal. But does hormones play a part in DID? No one really knows that much about it. They know that trauma plays a huge part in forming the alters or different personality states. But why should I have just a suicidal state? I mean I am suicidal most of the time but this was different. This was borderline hospitalize me now or I am going to end my life state. And then, just like that, I didn’t want to kill myself anymore. It was the furthest thing from my mind. I am not saying that I wanted to live, because I NEVER do but suicide was the last thing on my mind and has been that way the past few days. I actually have been feeling “happy” and not moody. I am finagling how to make a future for myself that includes going back to college and getting my degree. That I don’t have a car anymore, kills me. That I am not working anymore, kills me. And the big one, that I am disabled, absolutely destroys me. I have to be on bedrest for the next month. That absolutely sucks. I literally have to make the swelling in my leg go down before my next appointment. I don’t know what they will do. Probably start me on more pills or something to get the swelling down if rest and ice doesn’t work.

And all this is fueling my suicidal gauge again. It got empty for a while but now it’s back to being full. And I cannot tell my therapist I am on bed rest because she will fucking pull that card on me big time and I don’t want to hear it. It would soon be grounds for admission to hospital and I can’t do that. FUCK that. Problem is, I haven’t figured out how NOT to keep this from her because I have a big mouth and I tell her everything that is wrong with me. I don’t know how she stands me. I really don’t. I torture this lady week after week with my suicidality. I bore her to tears with my pain issues. She doesn’t let on about it, but I know I bore her. But I am getting off topic of the DID stuff…

I don’t know when the suicidal self began. It happened really quickly and that is what scared me. I started thinking about this on Monday (last Monday) and then poof, Tuesday I was in the running for a suicide attempt. It got spoiled only because my fucking idiot therapist wanted to keep my appointment with her. Damn bitch and her decorum. It was a beautiful day to kill myself. No one was home. I would take what I needed to do the deed and be done with it with no one to fucking stop me. So the plan was to proceed anyways. NOPE, didn’t happen. I had to text her that I was going to be dead by Wed and would not be keeping our appointment because of my death. Or something like that. I am the biggest idiot alive. One hand I was having keen suicidal thoughts and in the other hand, I am texting the one person that could stop me from going through with it. I am a fucker, as she has called me numerous times now. I am not kidding. But it is true. My ambivalence got in the way, maybe, and thus my beautiful plan was never executed in the fashion I wanted it to. So then I started thinking of other ways to end my life. Until Thursday came with a little gift of discharge and all was right with the world again. Doesn’t make sense. I didn’t lose track of time. I was in the moment, well, in a suicide moment. The constriction was deep and flowing. I couldn’t wrap my head around anything other than killing myself and then poof, it’s gone. Just like that. And I am left stunned. I am back to the land of the living though I certainly don’t want to be here. I am left feeling like “did that really happen”? “Was I really thinking of taking my life that way”? Why did I want to die so badly? It just doesn’t make any sense. And I don’t think my therapist or my psychiatrist can make sense of it either. Just a few drops of menstrual blood was all that was needed to break the insanity, to lose the suicidal self. My psych doesn’t see that side of me often. She doesn’t see what my therapist sees on a regular basis. I think it is harder for her to diagnose me as a DID because of this, if I do have DID. But I don’t think having a suicidal self “counts” as a “part of self” or an “alter”. And that is really frustrating me.

I am on birth control pills that are supposed to control my menses so this break should not be happening. Yet it happens and I have no control over it. I don’t think anyone can really have control over it. Even though the discharge was only a day or so, it was enough to break the suicidal self and bring me back to being miserable. And that is that sad part of this. I don’t die and I am forced to live when I don’t want to.

Midnight demons are out tonight

Midnight demons are out tonight

Since Midnight I have been in some serious pain. I got very distress and despondent. I thought about killing myself and was cursing my therapist for allowing me to still exist. A blogger friend was posting blogs so I asked her if she wanted to chat and we chatted for a few hours. She had to go because she had some stuff to do in the morning. Which is fine. I understand.

I still am in pain three hours later despite taking pain meds and using a pain gel. I don’t think I am going to sleep tonight and all I can think about is killing myself. I posted on FB that I wanted to use a chainsaw to chop my leg off. I seriously wonder if that is the better course of action. Just cut out the part that is hurting. I know there will be something called phantom pain afterwards but it can’t be worse than what I am going through right now. At least then, I will know WHY I am in pain. There is NO FUCKING REASON why I should be in pain. I didn’t do a damn thing today to warrant this pain. There is nothing wrong with my damn foot and ankle. Yet it hurts really bad. And it is burning me so bad. Pain is so bad I can’t even describe it. All I know is that I am hurting and want to kill myself. Just everything is dark and gray. I feel so hopeless. I know I am never going to get better.

I was talking with an ex-coworker tonight. I missed talking with her and she answered my text. We chatted for a bit and she asked when I was coming back to work. When I said I didn’t know if I could because of my pain, she chimed in that if I stop complaining maybe I would have my job back. I was dumbfounded. I couldn’t believe she would say something so insensitive. My pain is real and I suffer greatly. I don’t know why I suffer the way I do but I do. I got really upset. But then I thought she is ignorant and doesn’t know what I go through every day. She doesn’t know how hard it is going down the stairs or that I have to limit my standing time or I will pay dearly for it. Sure I can suck it up and not complain. But then it will only fuel the demons. I kept quiet about my internal psychological pain for years and where did that get me? Nothing but psych hospitalizations after psych hospitalizations. Lead to cutting and drinking and more hospitalizations. So when I can finally express myself, why should I keep my physical pain inside? That is one of the reason why people kill themselves because people don’t know just how bad their pain hurts them. That is why people see their doctors only to get turned away because their pain doesn’t show up on any test. My x-rays and MRI shows there is nothing physically wrong with me. Yet my pain is real and it hurts really bad right now. So bad I am thinking of taking my life. So how can that be made up? How can it be held inside? The longer I keep it to myself the deeper it grows. They say that if you swear after stubbing a toe it lessens the pain. Well no matter much I swear, there is no lessening of this pain. I must rely on pain medication to help me deal with my pain. I wish it worked on my psychological pain but it doesn’t. Nothing helps my psychological pain. When both flares up (physical and psych) I am in the deepest waters struggling to stay afloat. Sometimes I am successful and sometimes I am not. When I am not, someone comes by with a dinghy and I stay afloat.

I think my foot hurts just because it wants to. I think that I have been in pain for so long it doesn’t know what else to do but hurt me. And that causes my demons to worse and give me self doubt that this is all in my head. My therapist thinks that because of PTSD I have to be treated for my pain for my own safety. That if I am not treated, my PCP might as well just sign my death certificate. She is partially right. But I have a high pain tolerance and I haven’t been in this much pain in sometime. I know it is because the weather changes and having Hurricane Arthur pass by didn’t help me much. Plus this whole up 90 degrees and then down to 70 degrees really wrecks havoc on me. That’s a 20 degree difference. It hurts!

I keep looking at my pill bottle and wonder what will happen if I empty it. I have never OD’d on Tylenol before so I am kind of scared that it will cause me liver damage that I will regret. I think that is the only thing saving me from taking the rest of the bottle and hoping for the best. If I had a barbiturate or some other powerful sedating drug handy, I would take it. I just need/want some sleep. It’s 0330. I am glad I don’t have to get up early tomorrow. But I know I am only going to get a few hours of sleep and wake up. Probably wake up at 6 or 7. I might as well wait till 0400 to try and get some sleep. I took two pain pills to try and get me to calm down this pain. I just need it to be a 3 so I can sleep. It is a 7 on a scale of 1-10. I am sure that once I get nice and comfy, I will have to use the bathroom. Never fails. UGH how I hate that.

spoon shortage

Spoon shortage

Earlier this week, my mother asked me where our big spoons were. I said I didn’t know, maybe the dishwasher ate them. She wasn’t amused.

It got me thinking about how much I need spoons lately. Just for me to shower and go to the store took more spoons than I realized. Spoons, for those that don’t know or are new to my blog, is a metaphor for energy based on a blog I read years ago. I have posted it here so you can try and understand what I am talking about.

I am in a lot of pain right now. I think I am done for the day and that is too bad because I wanted to see my Australian friend today. He said we would meet up sometime in the afternoon but I still haven’t heard from him. Maybe he is out of spoons, too. He was in a car accident the other day and has whiplash. He was hurting pretty good. Whiplash sucks. I experienced it once and never want to again. Tonight is also my nephew’s birthday party. I don’t know if I will be making an appearance or not. Depends if I can get this pain that I am feeling under control or not.

It sucks being in chronic pain. I haven’t had a break all week. Today was going to be a rest day but I had to shower and then go to the pharmacy to pick up my prescription. I also wanted chocolate. So after my shower, I got dressed and went to the pharmacy. I also did some shopping as my mother wanted pudding. My protein bars were on sale so I grabbed some of those as well. I got home and my mother flipped out on the “junk” I bought. I didn’t say anything to her. I swear sometimes she thinks I uses HER money to buy MY stuff. I don’t. If I want to use my money to buy “junk”, then so be it. Least I didn’t order food like I wanted to. I have been craving Pad Thai but I am doing good and not buying it. I still have to go to the meat market and get my burgers. I also need to learn how to cut up an avocado so I can have it on my burger. I love avocados.

I was feeling some more of the self hate again today. I saw a shadow of me and one of things on my chest and I got really sad. I so want to be flat chested. It’s very distressing to me and I can’t talk to anyone about it. I don’t think I can even talk to my therapist about it because then she wants to “fix” the problem and have me see the people at the gay clinic. I just can’t be bothered with it. I just rather die than deal with it. Even if I could grow facial hair, I still will have breasts. And I doubt testosterone fixes that. It’s really hard for me to talk about. It’s just another thing about self-image that I cannot tolerate. My therapist says I don’t see myself, that the image is not what it is. She is right. I don’t see myself as a man and never will as long as things are the way they are. She just doesn’t get how much it hurts me to the point of wanting to take my life. And if I ever have the opportunity to take it, you know that damn well I will take it.

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