a little bit of everything Monday

A little of everything Monday

I got about 5 hours sleep. I then went to Starbucks after making a PB&J sandwich for lunch. I ordered 6 shots of espresso and a donut. I wrote a little bit before I had to leave to see my psychiatrist. I kind of left early so had like a half hour to kill. I didn’t want to check in that early so I just found a bench outside the office and wrote a little more in my journal.

The appt did not go very well. I told her about having to go through withdrawal last week because I was late in taking my pain meds and she called me an addict. I tried to correct her saying I was dependent but it fell on deaf ears. She kept repeating addict and it make me hurt so bad. I seriously didn’t expect this from someone I have known nearly 25 years. She was being ignorant but it hurt none the less. I vented to my support group about it. I would school her later.

After the appt, I went to the Sprint store to change my name now that I have changed my license. It took maybe 10 mins. Crap. I still had like 2 hours before I had therapy. I went to a Starbucks by my therapist’s office and just ordered hot water for tea. I made Earl Grey. I waited for it to cool so I wouldn’t burn myself. The water was wicked hot. I wrote in my journal about what my psychiatrist had said. I then posted to a Facebook pain group if they had any information about the difference between addiction and dependence. The bathroom at Starbucks was out of order so I left to go to my therapist office. All the drinking fluids was building up and needed relieving. I just made it to the bathroom in time.

Therapy sucked. I told him about what my psych said and he said I should ask her what she meant. After discussing that, I just rambled about anything to make the time pass. I didn’t bring up mommy and daddy issues but the idiot asked me again what was my pain like. I swear he thinks I am making shit up. I told him it varies and depends on where the pain is. It is usually half my foot/ankle going outward starting about the 3rd toe. I told him I got depressed and hopeless and it was hard to keep up the mental stuff with the PT exercises the PT gave me. He said just do them. Yeah, cause it is that fucking easy. Are you serious?? He just annoyed me more than my psych ever did in all the years we worked together.

I get home and on the way, my cousin called me. He was unable to call the bank like he said he would to get information for me. Lazy ass. He said he would tomorrow. Sure, and I will win the lottery too. His mother really irked me because she called me while I was on my way to my psych appt. She wanted to know if my mother was okay. I told her she had to go to the bank, which her brother was going to take her. My mother wasn’t answering the phone. Well, maybe she was in the bathroom getting ready or taking a shit. I don’t know, I am not home. She got me fricken worried and all worked up. My psych sensed it when she saw me. I told her I would call my mother when I left as I was sure she was fine. She was. She was out and did some errands, which she obviously didn’t tell her sister. HOW DARE SHE! LOL fucking stupid bitch my aunt is. Freaks out all the fucking time over NOTHING!! I was so heated!

I get home and had something to eat before going to my room. I had a pile of mail. I brought it up to my room and then checked Facebook. The pain page responded with some links. I clicked on one and there was another link for a medical article on addiction and dependence. I opened it and read some of it. According to the article, because my pain is not adequately treated, I would have pseudoaddiction, where I watch the clock and appear “drug seeking” for relief of pain. I sent the PDF (attached to this blog APS_consensus_document here) to my psych along with saying that I felt hurt when she called me an addict. Then the tears flowed and I was a sobbing mess. It took me a good while to get composure. Then she responded and I bawled again. Fuck. She said it was not her intention to hurt me and that she didn’t want me to be dependent on the narcotics. Too late for that. And for that matter, I am dependent on my mood stabilizer, which I responded back to. I told her I didn’t want to be on opioids but the benefits outweighed the risk. I knew and accepted this just like I knew I needed meds for my mental illness. I told her the example of how I withdrew when I forgot to take my mood stabilizer for two days when my father was ill. I honestly didn’t think anything would happen but I had the same type of dizzy spell I had last week when I missed my pain med dose.

No one wants to be dependent on their meds but it happens to the best of us. I knew when I was 16 I would need to be on meds the rest of my life. There was no doubt about it. I had severe mental illness and the only way to manage it was through medication and therapy. Unfortunately, the therapy part hasn’t worked out yet. I can’t say I am cured, because I still have bouts of debilitating depression and suicidality. But lately, the pain has fucked up everything. Now I am depressed and suicidal due to a medical condition, Complex Regional Pain Syndrome. And there is no fucking way to control it because it is as unpredictable as the New England weather. I don’t even have the same pain twice during a flare up. It is all fucking different as night is to day. The only type of pain that is somewhat consistent is the fucking malleolus pain and the pain that is where my outward ankle and foot merge, just under the malleolus moving toward the foot. This pain drives me up the fucking wall. I had to text the Crisis Text line last night because I needed someone to talk to at 0100. I didn’t get a “counselor” till 0200. By then, I was sleepy and hungry. I made something to eat and then I said night to the “counselor”. The whole thing was useless. She kept wanting me to do some coping skills. I kept wanting to talk about dying. She didn’t want to hear it. How is that helpful?? Next time, I just write in my journal or maybe blog and hope the cops don’t show up at my door.

The temp dropped to 32 degrees. I had to shut the window because it was flipping freezing in my room. My feet got cold as ice so had to put on thermal socks. Then I had to use the bathroom again. I figure I would take my night meds when I came back to my room. My mother wanted me to make her bed. I did. Then got tucked back to my bed only to realize I didn’t take my night meds! Fuck. My ankle didn’t like me getting up again. I quickly took them and then got back under the covers. I put on a long sleeved T shirt. If the heat kicked on, I will take it off. Shit my foot is burning right now. Neurontin time!

Oh, while I met with my psych, we discussed the drug Vimpat. I wanted to make sure there were no interactions with the Trileptal as they both work on the same sodium channel thing. Last thing I need is my sodium (blood salt) to drop. She was okay with me trying it so I emailed the neurologist to go ahead and call it in. He hasn’t so far. The script for a refill of Trileptal my psych put it, never made it to the pharmacy. I had to email her again. For some reason, it had to be reviewed by the pharmacist so it is delayed. I’ve been on this med for over 10 years. If it is not ready for pick up tomorrow, I am calling to find out why it is not ready. If I didn’t have all my meds at this pharmacy, I would switch to another one. But this one is the closest to me and has better service than Rite Aid.

Appts for the day

Appts for the day

I got about 2.5 hours of sleep. I was up till around 5 because my pain was bad. I made it to starbucks for espresso and then left to go to the registration department at my hospital to change my name. It took about 5 minutes to do as I was the only person there. When I got to my psych’s office, I had them print me an extra label so I could take a pic of it but they cut off my last name when they ripped it from the machine. Oh well. My psych took me early, which was good. She usually runs late. She signed the paperwork for the RMV and we talked about the hospitalization not being helpful. I also told her the Zoloft was making me nauseous. We agreed to decrease it to 25 mg and if it still was making me sick, I could stop it.

While I was meeting with her, my PT called and left a message. I emailed her. She told me that I could go through some pain program and sent me information on it. She said that I needed to be cleared before going back to PT and I am not sure why that is as this was a psych admission not a medical one. Even when I tried to make an appt with my PCP’s office they had no idea what I was talking about. I emailed her again for clarification. I made an appt with her for next week, which I hope I can keep.

After my psych appt, I went into Boston to find the RMV. I am so glad it is around the corner from the train station. I will go there Wed. After finding it, I came home and wanted to rest for a bit before leaving for my therapy appt but my ankle acted up and I was not able to rest. I made some tea and then went to the bus stop to catch the bus.

Therapy went okay, though I need some time processing it. He got shrinky on me as before we ended he said that my “mommy and daddy issues were the real issues not my current ones”. Basically, because I haven’t dealt with my parents’ rejection and neglect, they were causing my problems, not my physical pain and suicidality. Whatever. I’ll write a blog on that once I think more about it. I am too tired.

On the way home, my ex-ex-girlfriend texted me and then “took a nap”. She does this to me all the fucking time and I am sick of it. She asked how I was doing and I didn’t answer her. I told her I was going to bed and then she said that I “ignored her for two days”. Um, text works both ways. I didn’t hear from her either. I was in bed sleeping most of the last two days. Kind of hard to text someone when you are sleeping all day. Then she called me a freak and that I was free to delete her. I blocked her number and then blocked her on Facebook. Fuck her. I don’t need drama in my life.

Went upstairs to my room and my bones in my ankle and foot flared up. I so want to fucking sleep!!!! I was in the boot for most of the day. Hope my night meds knock me out. Day 3 of supplement and haven’t noticed anything except my appetite seems to be low. I am eating but only 1 to 2 meals a day. I made an egg and cheese burrito and then had cereal when I came home from therapy. I was going to make hot dogs but didn’t feel like making them. I haven’t lost anything yet but I am only weighing myself weekly. I really just want to lose the belly fat but don’t know if that is possible. Still have 27 days on the stuff so only time will tell.

Exhausting painful day

I woke up around 2 in pain so got some pain meds. I woke up around 8 after falling back to sleep. I wanted coffee but the damn breakfast dude had shut the doors to the kitchen. I don’t know why they do this for every meal. Drives me crazy. While I was waiting for him to open the door, my pain spiked and so did my suicidality. I just wanted to die. After I got the disgusting coffee and some breakfast, I met with my team. I told them I would retract the 3 day and the psychiatrist asked what changed my mind. I said the thought of going to a state hospital wasn’t appealing. After we talked, he gave me privileges just like that. After I told him I was suicidal. Whatever. I knew I wasn’t going to be able to go out today anyway. I just hurt too much.

I had a mental health counselor that I liked as my check in person and told her I hated being far away from the nurse’s station. She was able to have me change rooms to be closer. I had to walk back and forth with my things. That caused a flare up. I am staying in my room the rest of the night. I need to rest. I am wicked tired, like I’ve taken a sleeping pill. I am so wiped out from this chronic pain today. It has been fluctuating all day. 

There is a service dog on the unit. He is very cute. The bugger had learned to leave the patient’s room so he has been hanging out for most of the day. This is the 1st time I have seen a dog on the unit.

It has been a really warm day out and so the unit has been stifling. I was sweating when I was done with the room change. I didn’t pack shorts so I ended up making them out of some scrub pants when I was last admitted. I am much cooler now. My room has the windows wide open so it’s nice and cool. I like it. I can not tolerate the heat, which I think has contributed to my pain being bad the past two days. If dinner wasn’t in a few minutes, I would take a nap. I will after I eat. I’m kind of hungry.

I hope that because I got privs today that my discharge date might be next week. Least I hope so. I want the fuck out of here. My psychiatrist wants me to stick it out but I really don’t see the point. 

I went to two groups today. The 1st one was group therapy and I came out to the patients that were there. Everyone was supportive and I think there is another trans female on the unit. I hope we can connect but she seems very distant.

The other group was on stigma and I didn’t care for it. It was really boring. 

pain, pdoc appt, and other things

Pain, pdoc appt, and other things

I once again woke up around 330 in pain. I took my pain meds and couldn’t go back to sleep right away. I think I fell back to sleep around 5ish then woke up one minute before my alarm went off. I got up to brush my teeth and use the bathroom. Then I got dressed and caught the bus to the Square. I had to stop and deposit money in my checking account because I was short on funds. I’m glad I checked my balance because I would have been overdrawn. A transaction I made the other day I forgot about. Oops. I then went to Dunkin to get some pumpkin donuts. Then I went to Starbucks for my espresso and a breakfast sandwich.

I got on the train to get to my pdoc appt. The appt went well. I told her about the bitch coordinator for the pain group. If she knew who ran it, she would contact them. I told her not to bother as I don’t want to go anymore. This bitch just ruined it for me. She went over the notes from the neurologist appt yesterday. She has no clue about the bone scan he ordered. I have no clue either but I gather through my Twitter buddies that it’s a radioactive test. Guess I’ll be glowing in the dark, haha. We also talked about my mood and how sucky it has been. She agreed. She said that if I need to contact her this weekend, to use her cell phone number. I said ok.

I had to go home a different way because the bus I take from the Square was being detoured. It took me longer to go home. My ankle/foot is not happy with me right now. I am in a lot of pain. I took some Neurontin and my strong pain pill. The weather is cold so my spine is aching, too. I thought of going to Rite Aid for some half and half as I was out but changed my mind. I’ll go tomorrow. It will give me something to do. I also need to go to Walgreens.

My mood sucks right now. I’ve been thinking of suicide for most of the day, partly due to feeling hopeless about my ankle being FUBAR and partly because the depression is just so bad right now. I really hate this and sometimes I am scared that I will go ahead with my crazy plan I keep fantasizing about. I don’t know if I will act on it. I really want to but I know my immediate family will hurt and that keeps me here, as long as I don’t have constriction (blinders). I hate that I have to suffer so others won’t. It’s a real struggle when you lose all hope of getting better. I know that if PT is successful, I might not be in as much pain. Which might get me a little more active than I have been but as I told my pdoc today, I don’t think it will rehab me enough so I can work again. Hell, just walking the 3,342 steps today going out and back home is doing a real number on my ankle right now. I was only out of the house for a few hours and I am toast. I really need to rest this weekend, though the only thing I have planned is to change my sheets and try and find that backpack I’ve been wanting to use. It’s driving me crazy that I don’t remember where I left it last. It might be in a different part of my office, under some jackets or something.

I really would like to do some writing in my journal again. Lately I have been so tired because I wake up in the middle of the night that I just don’t have time to sit at Starbucks and write like I used to. Or I just been too distracted to write. Lately, I just can’t focus on anything. I can’t remember the last time I opened a book. I just am not interested in reading anymore.

My ankle is really hurting me right now. If I had a chainsaw, I would chop it off. It’s bad enough I feel like slicing it open with a knife. Somehow I think that will stop the pain by cutting out the pain. Weird thinking but it’s driving me crazy having to take this pill and that pill then waiting for the pills to work. It’s aggravating. You just want relief now and it doesn’t happen. I’m starting to have anxiety so I took one of my blood pressure pills. I didn’t take it this morning, again. This is the 3rd day I missed my morning dose. Luckily, when I saw the neuro yesterday, they took my BP and it was normal. I hate having to be on two medicines for my blood pressure. I especially hate having to take one twice a day. I should put the alarm in my app back on so I don’t miss the dose. I only stopped it because I was waking up in the middle of the night or going to bed really late and I didn’t want to be disturbed. I need some sleep.

therapy disaster

Therapy disaster

I had therapy this afternoon. I’m still quite upset about it. I wasn’t sure how it was going to go. I was hoping for the best but it didn’t work out. All I did was cry at the realization that we were going to at some point, terminate. She couldn’t say the word and I couldn’t think of it. She still wanted to be some kind of adjunctive therapy just so she could have her fix of me, to keep her in the loop of what is going on and such.

All the while I kept thinking, why is this happening? I asked her why we couldn’t do weekly sessions and she said she’d just go back to her “old ways”. I don’t care if it meant having someone to talk to regularly. Right now I have NO ONE! And it’s not a good place to be in.

Then I thought fuck it. I plan on ending my life soon and then who the fuck gives a shit about her. I have no crisis response plan in place because she isn’t my therapist anymore. I only have my psychiatrist. I had emailed her about what happened and she asked me if she plans on calling future therapists. I don’t care and went off a tirade of basically fuck this and that. I don’t fucking care anymore. It’s done. It’s over. I don’t want to see her anymore and I am not. I will have one last session with the bozo (therapist) and that will be that. Her schedule will be too damn packed to see me again so I don’t have to worry about another damn session.

I cried for about an hour after session and still the tears are flowing. I have been trying to control them but it makes me so damn sad. My therapist told me she still loves me and cares about me. I think that just made things worse. I know she was crying during the session, too. I was so choked with emotion, I could barely talk. And when I did talk, I was choking back tears trying to be heard. I kept on trying to think of what it was my psychiatrist wanted to ask her but my mind went blank. I did ask her about the blogs and she said it was important that I wrote and shared them. Yea, so important that it broke us up.

I don’t know where I am heading with this, if it’s going anywhere. I am really depressed. Nothing I wanted to do today got done. I was just a lazy bastard. If I take a shower tonight, that will be a miracle. If not, my psychiatrist will have to deal with my stink when I see her tomorrow. I am sure she smelled worse though.