stitches are out

Stitches are out

I had a very tiring day. I woke up with minutes to spare to catch the driver to get to the hospital. I am glad I dressed quickly. There was no traffic to the hospital so I was an hour early. I tried to get something to eat but they weren’t accepting cash so I didn’t get anything. I spent an hour in the empty waiting room waiting for the doctor. He took the stitches out and said things looked good. He said that the disc I was concerned about was compressing things so he fixed it. I don’t have to worry about it now. He did say that I had a dura tear that had to be repaired and that was why I had to lay flat. It took a good few days to be able to sit up right in bed. I still am not feeling well sitting up but I did okay on my way there. I had to walk all over because the place of pick up was at a different building than where my doctor’s office was. I am now paying for it as my foot has flared up.

I had a phone session with my psychopharm. We talked about how I was doing. She thinks part of the reason I am not so depressed is because of the anesthesia. She may be right. I don’t know how long the effect is going to be but it has been two weeks and despite feeling devastated at times, I feel okay. I told her that I was numb and I told her where. I felt funny telling her but she seemed to understand that this is complex and not something that is going to recover in a few weeks. It could be months before I have feeling back. Surgeon even said that. So I just have to take it day by day. She wants me to write more as she feels it could be a good coping mechanism. I cringed. I don’t see my writing as a coping mechanism. I just do it because it feels right. I have some things to express and I express them. They all go into a void for me and I don’t remember what I write usually. Granted right now I am not writing in despair or in a desperate state. I told her I haven’t felt suicidal but I have been hearing hallucinations of music that I have been having to take trilafon for. She asked if I had any side effects and I said my fine motor skills are affected. I can’t seem to hold a pen without shaking a bit. Writing is smooth once I start but I do tremble a little bit. I don’t know if it is anxiety or what but I hate that this is happening. I love writing in my journal and that this tremor is keeping me from writing when I need to. I also want to write to the therapist but I am not sure what to write. I will ask her when I talk to her next Monday.

My pcp messed up my pain meds so now I am behind a week with my other pain meds. He didn’t send off a 30 day supply. I now got to wait till this weekend to get it. I blame that stupid NP in the hospital for messing up the counts. I don’t know why she felt the need to give me a script when I already had a script and my doc would have done it not her. Would have been easier to do things through my pcp than through her anyways.

Surgeon asked if I was voiding and I told him I was. He asked if I could feel myself be full. I can at times but not 100% of the time. I still need to cath every day so I make sure that I am empty. Today I haven’t been voiding much on my own. I have had to cath because I just couldn’t feel full even though I know I drank enough that I should have been full. I still can’t believe this is my new life. It takes so much out of me knowing that I am not a full bodied person anymore. It kills me that this may not go away. I just worry about bowel accidents now because of feeling numb. I haven’t taken Miralax since I have been home. I keep forgetting to take it. It is hard because I don’t have a cup in my room to mix it up in. I keep forgetting to bring up a cup. I might use a water bottle for my mixing. I bought a 32 oz Gatorade bottle that I can mix my drinks in. I bought the powder to make Gatorade. I figure that might help cut down on buying the stuff. I would make a bottle now but my back is all locked up from this morning’s activities. I am really hurting. I am also so very tired despite taking a three hour nap. I just hope I am not up in pain all night because I slept during the day. I am feeling sleepy as I took my night meds an hour ago. I hope I am asleep before midnight. That would be good if I was able to sleep before midnight with no trips to the bathroom. Last night I woke up once or twice but was able to stay in bed. I didn’t have to use the bathroom. I think if I got up I probably wouldn’t have woken up at 9 like I did today.

Tomorrow PT is coming. I am not sure if nursing is going to come by or not. I usually will get a call in the morning if they are going to come by. I don’t think they need to because I saw the surgeon today and I am doing good. I am just worried about PT and what they will want me to do. I want to do what they ask of me but at the same time, I am not sure that I can do it. I forgot to ask the surgeon about it. Being fart brained didn’t help. I wish I had coffee before I left the house. It would have helped tremendously. I think I will have coffee tomorrow at my sister’s. She has a Keurig that is awesome.

say this not that

here is a link to an important article on suicide

Suicide: Say this, not that

what to say to someone that is suicidal. Please learn it and don’t be a dick.

Melancholy II


I’ve been in a depressive slump all day. I remembered that there was a therapist discussion going about Twitter the other day or maybe last week about melancholy and how it should be in the DSM as it accurately displayed depression better than the other diagnoses. I looked up the criteria or symptoms and I fit all six. They are:
1. Loss of Joy
2. Worse in the morning
3. Increase in guilty feelings
4. Unfounded sadness
5. Lack of energy
6. Negative physical effects (+/- weight changes, eating, sleeping, etc)

I knew I had some think. Recurrent major depression is a close second to what I have but I don’t have energy at all. I can’t remember when I felt energetic or didn’t feel weighed down. Morning are so hard to function. I have sadness all the time, not explained by anything. Just waking up, I will feel sad. And forget about joy. That took a hike a long time ago and haven’t been able to find it since. This blog used to bring me so much joy and now it is work to keep it going. I don’t get paid by posting. This is my playground where I just write my thoughts of my illness and post it to see if anyone cares. Not many do. I still haven’t found the right time to post that gets the most readers to my blog. But that is another story.

I am bloody cold. I had to shut the window yesterday because it felt like my room was in the 30s. It is that cold out right now and I don’t have the window open. My room temp went down to 59 degrees, which made me shut the window. Now it is 66 degrees in my room. I will take it but I want to feel warm. I don’t think the heat has been turning on as much. I have no idea what it is on. I put my glasses on to read it when I went to the bathroom and then forgot to look before coming back to my room. Oh well. I just heard the radiator turn on so hopefully I will feel warm soon. I can only imagine what it is like to be homeless. Some times I think about it rather than live where I am. I probably won’t last more than a few hours out.

I am feeling low again. I wish this wasn’t happening. I am having surgery in less than two weeks and I am really scared about it but I trust the doctor to not fuck me up more than I already am. I just hope my bowel and bladder function don’t get worse after the surgery or I don’t think I am going to make it. I have a plan for suicide and it will just speed things up if I lose bowel/bladder function more than what I already have. My family doesn’t understand this. No one does really. They don’t think of their nerves in the back controlling things. I am just tired of everything. I have a therapy notebook going and in it I wrote to my therapist just how I would end my life and under what circumstances. I have an opportunity to finally end my life and I am not going to by-pass it this time. I will be stupid to.

I’ve been so suicidal the past year that I think it has just become a part of me like the depression has. You could say I have a depressive personality (if that exists in the clinical world, I am not sure). I just know every day I feel suicidal and every day I feel some level of depression. The past 24hrs I have been really depressed. It hurts in my soul so deep that no medication, not even morphine, can touch it. Hell even my pain meds don’t touch it and I am on some strong meds.

This blog was supposed to be about depression and melancholy. I don’t think it is about that anymore. You tell me if I am on track. I skip around because I run away from my emotions. It is hard to stay with feeling like the black cloud following you and is starting to weigh on your chest. Who wants to stick around for that?? I know this is a punishment for some wrong I have done. I just don’t know what that could be. I try to lead an honest and truthful life. I don’t hide shit from anyone. Well maybe my therapist but she eventually gets it out of me with her stubbornness. Man she drives me nuts. This is how I know she is a good therapist. She can be very blunt at times and sometimes I don’t know if she is joking or not. But she tries hard to get me to stay with whatever I am feeling. I hate that I had a breakdown in her office in our last session. It wasn’t for too long because I wouldn’t allow myself to get too ugly. I am a man who shouldn’t be breaking down like that. But she wouldn’t let this thing go and I was all jumbled up inside I didn’t find a thimble to hide in. That was how small I felt. I always feel small when I am feeling big emotions. I don’t know why that is. Could be trauma or just the neglect I endured.

Agony of Despair

Agony of Despair

I had therapy today. I gave her a letter I wrote the other night when I was in a suicidal frame of mind. She said that my treatment is basically in limbo as I am not sure what the recovery is for after my surgery. There may be a way for me to have a telehealth connection but my insurance doesn’t cover it and she has to fight to get it covered. So I maybe without therapy for a few weeks or more depending the outcome of the surgery. She will be able to see me while I am inpatient but I am not anticipating a long hospital stay. Most I will be in for is a week as they like to kick you out soon as you are stitched up. My recovery is going to be at least through the weekend but again, depends on a lot of factors. What I am thinking may not be accurate but I do know I will be there at least through Sunday, if not Monday. I will need home care and/or rehab services as there is no one to care for me at home so my stay may be longer than Monday.

While we were talking she was joking and then I was joking and then she jumped on me to make sure she was saying was understood by me and I just lost it after that. I broke down and I am still reeling from it. Talk about something stupid setting you off. I didn’t allow many tears to fall but I felt like an elephant had jumped on me after the tears stopped. My chest felt so damn heavy. I told her the psychopharm wanted me to think about ECT and she said no one should be bringing up anything to me right now with the surgery that I am facing. She was looking out for my well being and I appreciated that. She is a really good therapist and I am glad to have her in this point in time. I think I will be able to get some work done but it is going to take some time.

Today is the anniversary of when I first attempted suicide. No one knew and I did a bad job of it but I entered the world of self-harm in the process. The goal was to dig into my arm to sever a vein but I never realized how many layers there are to get to that level. The following night was as traumatic as that night and the following day I entered therapy. It took a lot to get me to open up because my father had instilled in me the “what goes on in the house, stays in the house.” I was too suicidal in the week after the attempt. I just started cutting and it was how I expressed my emotions as I didn’t have words for them. I still don’t. That is what went on today. I felt a jumble of shit and just broke down when I was being hammered by questions. My therapist didn’t allow me to jump ship and if I did she lead me back to where I was. I had an anxiety attack that kicked everything off. We were talking about surgery and the next thing I know I am crying. On the way home I wanted to drink so bad. I was thinking about gin and how drunk I would get but those feelings have passed.

I was telling my therapist about how my blog writing has dwindled and writing in general when she picked up the letter I wrote and said no sir. I guess I have to have some kind of person in mind while writing in order to get the words out because once they start flowing, I can go on. She did say that I started to get into something while I wrote but then I stopped midsentence. I had no idea what she was talking about. I kind of just went with it because I do that so often now that I don’t even notice. I just know I feel some strong emotion and I move onto something else. A friend who was reading my blog the other night commented on it. I had to laugh. He said at least I was aware of it. I am aware but after the fact not during. It is really hard for me to sit. Hell even while having severe anxiety in session I was talking about the Sox and anything else to get over the feelings. I know I compartmentalize a lot. It happens with trauma. I told her to expect a lot of talking about the Sox all season. She wasn’t phased only with me coming to see her to talk about the sox. HA. I talked a lot about baseball in my previous therapies and I will be damned not to talk about it in this one as well.

Thing that is bothering me is that she wants me to write out stuff, either blog, journal, letter writing, etc. but I don’t think she gets how damn difficult it is for me. There have been moments where I cannot write what I am feeling because I am too jumbled or I just cannot find my words. It is like they are there but I can’t “see” them. What is worse is that the Invega is taking away my voices so the inner conversations I always have are lost. Granted if I am feeling high emotions, they are there because they always are. They always have been. I don’t want to become psychotic when I am feeling high emotions because that will be bad and potentially dangerous to me. The voices tend to tell me to end my life when medication isn’t holding them back so if I am in a high state of despair, I may act on what they say.

I am glad the drinking urge has passed and I don’t feel like drinking. I have a quarter of a bottle left and I seriously thought I would finish it off. It wouldn’t take much for me to become drunk or buzzed from alcohol because I don’t drink normally. I might have a glass of wine occasionally but that is all I will have. I don’t usually drink to get drunk but tonight I wanted to. Glad there was a line at Walgreens to distract me from these thoughts/feelings.