random psych shit and things

Random psych shit and things

I had three hours sleep last night. I didn’t go to bed till 0730, woke up at 0930 and then again at 1030. I had to really get up at that hour because I had to be out of the house by the latest 1105 to catch the bus. Course I go downstairs, hoping to shave and my mother is in the bathroom wanting to wash up. Figures. I tell her I need to wash up and she says she will do so fast. She is never “fast.” I waited for her to get out. By that time it was around 1045 and I just brushed my teeth and got the eye crud out of my eyes by washing them. I couldn’t be bothered with the rest of my face. It would have to wait.

I had time to fiddle after using the bathroom, but not much. I got my clothes on before sitting on my bed. I tried to find a belt I could use for the pair of shorts I found in my drawer. They are a size 38, which after all the weight loss, I fit into again. I didn’t need to buy another pair of shorts as the size 42 is way too big on me. Not eating is not how I wanted to lose the weight but it happened so there isn’t much I can do except to keep it off, which I have and knew I would. I might have gained and lost the same three pounds the past few weeks but then I will drop 8 lbs the following week so I guess it evens out eventually.

I went to Starbucks and had my espresso. I had a new barista. I asked him for soy and all the baristas that I ever had have given me the container or a quart of it. This one pours a tall cup and hands it to me. WTF. I don’t care, I just want my fucking espresso. He was cheap with the ice so I just said fuck it. He looked to be a smartass anyway and I wasn’t in the mood to argue. I totally got my time messed up because around noon, I left for the station. It wasn’t until I was halfway to where I needed to be, I realized my appointment was at 1345. I was more than an hour early. Goddamn it. I went to the lobby of the building and just wrote in my journal. Then I washed out my reuseable cup and went upstairs. The therapist took me early. I was beyond tired by that point and wasn’t too chatty though I did try to have a conversation. The therapist kept on looking at her computer screen and then looked at me so fast I thought she was going to get whiplash. No idea what she was looking at. Somehow she asked me if I was in crisis or something and I said I don’t know, not right now. Could change in 24 hours, which it could. She said that wasn’t reassuring. Then she said “we need to monitor how you are and such.” I am thinking ok. Next thing I know she is telling me she is off next week and she will see me in two weeks. WTF seriously?? She didn’t offer a safety plan or who I was to call if I needed to talk to someone while she was away, nothing! I got pissed off. Because she took me early meant I would be home on time for my psych to call me.

I had just missed the bus when I got back to the Square. I had to wait a half hour for the next one. I just listened to my music. I tried to read Twitter but my eyes couldn’t focus and it was really difficult as the sunglasses I was wearing weren’t prescription. I have either thrown them out or they are somewhere hidden in my room. I won’t know until I try to find something else. Like today I was trying to find the key to my cash box and found my class ring instead. I thought I had lost it for good while I was working in the lab. I could have sworn it was in my lab coat that got thrown away. I am glad I was wrong. That made my day until my psych called me. We talked and then she said she had a question for me, would I be okay to see a psychiatrist they had assigned me. That psychiatrist contacted her and wanted her input before they contacted me. I then asked her ok until she sets up shop somewhere and when that would be. She said sometime in the fall. She then asked if I was okay with meds. I said I have one refill left on all of them so would be set for the next month, month and a half. And if I couldn’t see the guy, I would call her. I told her about the dissociation part of Monday/Tuesday night where I somehow scratched my wrist. There were a few marks. I have no idea what time it was, what it was with, or why I did it. I don’t even remember doing it. She said if it happened again to call her right away. My immediate thought was that could be a while as it took me all day to realize this when I emailed her around 2200 Tuesday night while waiting for the last survey for the study I am in to come through. I was going to sleep afterwards and I did until like 9 or 10 am. My psych said she would call me either tomorrow or Monday to let me know what the new guy said and what his availability is.

After the phone call, my heart dropped. I was completely hurting and heartbroken and angry. I almost had a meltdown but somehow prevented me from uncontrollable sobbing. Fall seems like forever right now even though, technically, it is only a few months away. She didn’t tell me where she would be. I didn’t ask. I was too stunned to know I was actually going to see a new psychiatrist after twenty-six years, least for a little while. She still wants me to keep her posted and stuff. I don’t think that will ever change. I’ve always have, even when she was away on vacation or out of the office or on medical leave. This week has been a blur and today just sucked totally. Once I knew I wasn’t going to fall apart, I made myself a cheeseburger, which my stomach is still not happy about, even though I liked it. It was really good. After I ate, I shaved my head and face. I got rid of the mustache as it was all uneven and hairs were longer in places than others. I looked in the mirror afterwards and I looked like I was 12. I sent the pic to my psych saying I was indeed 12, LOL. My face has slimmed up and with the facial hair gone, you can really see it. Losing around 25 pounds helps. I still can’t believe I lost that much weight in such a short period. My waist shows it though. I am not 100% sure it is the T giving me the loss of weight or the loss of appetite/not eating due to pain, or the combo. We may never know. All I hear is that people gain weight with T. I might be the exception.

Now I just wait for a stranger to call me or his secretary to schedule an appointment. Not sure if my psych is still wanting to keep tabs on me now or if she just wants me to keep her posted on things. I guess I will find out when she calls me.

tough painful week

Tough painful week

I’ve had a rough week both physically and emotionally. Monday I semi said goodbye to my psych of 26 years. She still wants to care for me so when she finds another home, she will call me. She is not sure where she will be as she has not thought that far. I totally understand that. I figure it might be a few months but in the meantime I will still be in contact with her either through phone or email. I started having side effects of my mood stabilizer, which is really bad timing as I am not currently under direct care of a psychiatrist. My psych is trying to push seeing someone faster. My pcp’s social worker is also trying to get me to see a gender affirming psych that is joining the clinic. I just had bloods drawn for a level as last time I was barely therapeutic. I am having double vision and just to make sure there isn’t something wrong with my eyes, I am seeing my eye doc next week.

I had PT which was sort of good. On Saturday, I did some stuff around my room. Sunday I did a little more even though my back didn’t like it. Monday I was okay until I was coming home from my psych’s appointment. Back flared up terribly. I was still hurting when I saw my PT on Tuesday. She gave me some decompressing exercises to do. I was really hurting past few days as I have been having pain go down my leg and the pain was near my spine yesterday when I was coming home from the therapist appointment.

The therapist appointment went well. I found out what kind of therapist she is and I think it is going to work out. She loves the Sox and we both have the same favorite player, though she is a lot more obsessive than I am about him!! At one point, I thought she was going to jump down my throat when I was criticizing him and she stopped me before I could say anything. Yikes! I have my next appointment with her the week after next. She is a CBT therapist but also has some DBT stuff. I am going to bring her my copy of Craig Bryan’s CBT for suicide attempters and see if she is receptive to it. If she isn’t, then I guess that will be okay and we can go from there. I will have a hard time with it though as I feel like I have all these things that could possibly help me with my suicidality but I don’t have a therapist to go along with it and it frustrates the hell out of me! I did ask her if she would turn me away and she said no. I was relieved to hear this. Maybe she will work out after all.

My sister had sent me texts Wed saying she wanted to take my stuff upstairs today. I told her no as I knew I would be hurting as I have all week. Fortunately, she decided to go to the beach so I didn’t have to deal with her. We haven’t really spoken kind words to each other since she moved in. I really don’t care as she really hasn’t been there and doesn’t understand anything I have been going through since I have been on disability. I really don’t see this changing. Maybe when the work on the house is done with but certainly not right now.

A couple of hours ago, I used the bathroom. I normally don’t really look in the mirror as I hate my face. Today I did and much to my surprise, I have darker hair around my jawline! The fuzz is becoming darker. I was so excited. I knew I had to post transition pics, which I did on Instagram and facebook. I kind of did on Twitter, too, though didn’t give as big a description. Kind of hard to do when you only have 240 characters. I just sent it out to a couple of people that want to keep track of my transition. I hope when my T gets increased next week, the facial hair will come in faster and darker. I would love to come downstairs one morning and shock the hell out of my mother with a beard. I am not sure she knows I am on T. I sure as hell didn’t tell her. I am not sure if she asked my sisters or if my sisters told her. She hasn’t said a word to me about anything. I have mentioned that I will be having my breasts removed. She didn’t seem to like that at all. Yet she wants me to be “happy.” I don’t think I can ever be happy as I don’t know what the hell it is. I rather be content but the way things are going, I doubt that will ever happen. I forced myself to shower because some icky water fell on me. I have this thing that turns musty smells to water and the container fell on me. I had to shower. I was hurting afterwards. My back wanted to kill me. I started getting suicidal thoughts again. I have been having them on and off since being discharged from the hospital. They haven’t been really bad like they were. I have thought on a few occasions to end it and started to plan it but once the pain backed off, so did the planning. I just wish something helped with the flares. Since changing my meds to something else, nothing has worked for the flares. The 24/7 pain has been lowered. I wake up with a 2 or 3 but sometimes if I have more than a few days activity, I will have ankle/foot pain that is more than I can bear. I haven’t been able to find something to help ease that pain. Distraction works but only to a point. I could watch a movie but soon as that movie is over, the pain returns, sometimes worse than what it was before I started watching the movie. Last night I did five cryptograms. It was really cool as I really miss doing them. I started to remember the hacks. Some were really too difficult for me so had to go to a new puzzle. One quote was perfect for my psych so I sent it to her. I also sent her the transition pics and the excitement about growing in a beard. I half want to shave the stuff off just to see if it would grow back thicker but my friends told me to leave it alone. Hair under my chin is growing more together. Just wish it was in the middle of my chin. There is still a bare spot.

Guess that is all for today. Not sure if I will post over the weekend. It has been difficult finding my words lately, hence the spotty posts. Thanks for reading and understanding.

We don’t have to talk, I just want to hear your voice

We don’t have to talk, I just want to hear your voice

So I am going to try and crank this out as the Sox are playing and Luke Combs, Lady A, and Matt Snell continue to break my heart. This maybe long as there is a lot of stuff to talk about since I haven’t written in a week. So grab some coffee or something.

I’ve been battling a UTI (urinary tract infection) for the past week and a half. My pcp did not consult with me on antibiotics so the first course of treatment did not work. I finished on Sunday and Monday I had the foul smelly, cloudy urine again. I had called the pcp office but it was late in the day and no one got back to me. Tuesday I was able to get a hold of the idiot RN and told him my symptoms. I had an appointment with the new therapist and hoped he would get back to me as I was passing blood at this point. My results came back early afternoon but I got no call from my pcp or provider letter. So Wed I am hurting really bad. I am passing blood clots, blood, and mucus and it was extremely painful doing so. Bladder pain was terrible and I kept losing control of my urine as the urges to go were not to be messed with. At one point I waited a bit too long and thankfully had a diaper on because otherwise I would have had a puddle on my rug as I couldn’t even open the door before losing it. I was getting pissed (no pun intended). I called the office and the RN said that I did have infection (ya think) and my doc called in a prescription. Again my doc DID NOT CALL ME! I asked which one and I said I have no effect with that one I need to be on this one. Wed all I had to eat was some Ramen noodles. I didn’t want to eat or drink anything. Thursday I slept all day. I only ate when my protein bars came in. I had wanted to be up before my night meds but I wasn’t so the med alarm woke me from sleep. My mother too had called which annoyed me more than the phone alarm. I had flank pain but it was minor. I had 2 doses of antibiotics. I emailed my psych to ask her if I should go to the ER as I thought I was dehydrated. We fiddled with how much I was to drink but in the end my stomach only took 3 oz (90 mL). I then felt nauseous and I went to bed. My psych wanted me to get in touch with her today. I said ok.

5 am this morning, I woke up with worse flank pain and felt really lousy. It still hurt to pee but I wasn’t passing clots or mucus. I emailed my psych about this and went back to sleep after taking some Tylenol. I just figured it was nothing but maybe soreness from not eating and drinking anything. When I woke up to my morning meds, my psych had emailed back that I should contact my pcp as flank pain is not something you get with a UTI. Shit. I knew it wasn’t but I really didn’t want to go to the ER. I wanted to bake cookies. So I emailed her I would go to the ER as I wasn’t contacting my PCP again to talk with his idiot RN. I have no idea why good doctors have idiot staff. When I got to the hospital, I called his office just to let him know I was in the ED. Within fifteen minutes my PCP calls me and I tell him what was going on. He said that was the right thing and sent me on my way. ED ran tests but in the end it was to drink more (I laughed at this) and keep the course of antibiotics. OK. On the way home, I sent a message to PCP asking him to do some more urine tests to make sure the damn infection I have is fucking gone. I then sent one to my psych. She responded by asking what did they say. I told her and then asked if she wanted me to call her over the weekend. Our last weekend. I haven’t heard back, yet.

On Monday 17 June, I met with my psych. She told me some very bad, horrible news that has left me feeling numb but really angry at the institution we worked at. Her department wanted her to step down from whatever position and she said no. So they terminated her, June 30th is her last day. My last appointment with her is June 24, this coming Monday. I still have not processed it but I tried on Wed to write something. I knew it had been more than a few days since writing a blog. For the first time in almost 7 years, I lost my words. I couldn’t even begin to write about this and still am tearing up about it. I have been thinking about her and all we have went through. Wed night I wrote her something then couldn’t sleep. I didn’t go to bed till I don’t even remember the hour. Must have been late/early as I slept almost all of yesterday. There is no way in hell I could write what the last 26 years have been like in a paragraph or even in one long blog. I wrote two pages until my brain and emotions were fried. Then I kept fine tuning it. Adding stuff, fixing, punctuating, grammar, you name it. After the third go round I said fuck it and sent it to her with a PS saying that this might not be grammatically correct or something to that effect. In the email, I told her to open it at her leisure, maybe with a few tissues and I would bring a box on Monday.

She said I would be assigned another psychiatrist in the adult department, which so far I haven’t. She wants to have a Lamictal level drawn the next time I see my PCP so if he responds to the urine tests, I will ask him then. I have been preoccupied with her leaving and the UTI that I forgot. I tried not to break down though I did shed some tears. She asked if I could come in next week and I didn’t know what to say. She just shook her head yes and I said ok. The end of June is coming and it would be our last time together for a while. She said she is trying to find some other academic home and then when she gets sets up she plans on calling me. She said her email and phone number wouldn’t change (I am not 100% that is true. I know with me, I was cut off the day they let me go. They might have different stuff for MDs.) I thought of making her my marinara sauce, which I am still planning on doing on Sunday. I wanted to back cookies for her. I am hoping to do so tomorrow if I don’t have an all nightery with pain or emotions. Last night, I realized not only did I not have a copy of my second book on ANY of the 8 thumb drives I had, I also no longer have roots holding my tree up. It was a story I wrote that I don’t think I ever published on my blog. It was about my therapist and psychiatrist keeping me here. One of the roots said goodbye for reasons I still don’t know what they were. Now the other root is leaving me and I have nothing holding me up.

Tuesday was a bigger nightmare as I was supposed to meet with a new therapist. I was so fucking nervous because I knew if she didn’t want to take me on or I didn’t like her off the bat, I would have NO mental health services at all, none! So I went to the appointment and she asked me a shit ton of questions. I carefully worded and didn’t elaborate on anything that would lead to my suicidality. Least not until she said I was discharged from the psych unit and I immediately wanted to die. She asked if I was suicidal. I said no and then asked what would I end it when I leave here. I said no. Throughout, she kept on saying my psychiatrist terminated me and I must feel abandoned. When I asked where do we go from here, she asked what did I want to do, like she had no interest in seeing me ever again. That felt so welcoming. Mind you, when she went into the waiting room she called for someone with my birthname. So we didn’t exactly start off the right foot. I told her I had a three session rule and then I would decide if I would stay on or not. Though, if at three sessions I didn’t, there was no where else for me to go. She asked who I would call should I get suicidal and I said my psych and then it dawned on me, she wasn’t going to be there anymore and fuck, I damn near lost it.

I wrote to my psych and said the therapist said I feel abandoned and I said I didn’t. My psych responded saying I may feel that way. I wrote back I would if this was good bye and it is more of a see you later, or is it? She never responded back. Later that day, Luke Combs came out with the song, Even though I am leaving, and I just about lost it. It was perfect to all the stuff I feel about my psych. This cannot be goodbye.

If I don’t write next week, please know it is most likely due to emotional overload and cannot find the words to the hurt or whatever I feel. I see the therapist Thursday.

Depression sucks despite warm weather

Depression sucks despite warm weather

I slept pretty good last night, waking up only once to use the bathroom and thankfully going back to sleep without major problems. My med alarm woke me up and I took my meds. I didn’t want to get up but knew if I didn’t, I would take them late again. I slept another two hours before my mother yelling at her sister woke me up. I looked at the time and it was about time to shower. I didn’t want to leave my bed and thought fleetingly of canceling my appointment. I just was so down. I was also irritable as the fricken TV was going through my fucking head. I have no idea why I am so sensitive to sounds lately. Just puts me in a wicked bad mood once my head starts hurting.

I took a shower and thankfully didn’t throw up as the post nasal drip was horrible. I took some Flonase when I got up to my room. With the warm weather, my sinuses were causing my head to hurt. I looked at the pressure and it was almost one point lower. Lovely. By the time I got to my appointment, I had a migraine. I had brought a migraine med with me, as I didn’t know if the headache would turn into one. My psych is a child psychiatrist so while waiting for her, a kid was playing some toy and she might as well have been hammering my head with whatever she was playing with.

I brought my barber his dinner. He was so happy. I was glad. I had one portion that I made for myself. I am glad I brought it as I was hungry. I had my coffee and a pop tart but was still hungry. I ate the cornbread around the meat. I wish there was a place I could have heated it up but I wasn’t going to walk to the café of the hospital to do it. My feet would hate me. When I did get to the hospital, I was an hour early so just sat in a coffee place area and journaled. While there, a lady came up to me saying I looked “official.” I laughed in my head as she explained she needed directions. She needed to go to a different building and wanted me to take her there. I wasn’t going to take her there as I was in the building I needed to be in. She got frazzled and I just pointed her to where she needed to go. I hardly looked “official” as I was wearing my Sox uniform top and sweatpants. I told my psych and she laughed.

I told my psych about how my living situation is changing. Though we talked about the therapist situation first. I really don’t know what I am going to do about it. At this point, it is easier to go there, if I can, for therapy. The social worker got back to me today and said I could see her to talk as she tries to look for something else. I didn’t tell my psych how suicidal I have been, though I had been emailing so I think she does know. I next meet her on the date I had planned. I didn’t want to do it and I still might not show up. Depends how I feel that week. I am still ambivalent about it so go back and forth with wanting to and not wanting to. Maybe I will just toss a fucking coin and decide.

If you are reading this day of posting (15 Mar), if you could please keep the firefighters of my hometown in your prayer, mojo, vibes, etc. I would appreciate it. They are currently battling a 9 alarm fire. People in the area are being evacuated as the fumes are really bad. I hope all stay safe.