Tag: psychological pain

feeling terrible

by Midnight Demon, posted in blogging, depression

I feel terrible and weak. My menses of course have to drive it up a notch and my doc is on vacation just like I thought she would be *huffing puffing*. I was supposed to meet up with a friend today but I am still trying to catch up from sleep I lost yesterday as I had been up almost 24 hrs before taking a nap for a few hours. By few, I mean 3. It was a hard day yesterday. I didn’t know if I was coming or going and I still don’t.

My therapist and I have tried to work on what to do should Mr. Hyde shows up while she is on vacation. Maybe to text the call for help people or something. But the thing is, other than feeling really suicidal, I don’t feel the need to ask for help. I feel totally normal. I go about my business like I normally do. Except I am writing dark stuff and planning the end of my life. I am beyond hopeless so what would be the point of reaching out? I don’t feel the need to talk to anyone. All I need is a pad and pen or my laptop and I am good. I express all the dark stuff on paper or send off messages to people that I care about telling them I love them and not to worry that I will be in a better place. It seems NORMAL to me but I know it’s not normal when I wake up from this dream/dissociative state. Only when I am out of it do I really feel the sting of the pain because I am still living. I really feel like during these episodes that I am going to die, that I will fall asleep and not wake up. Then I wake up, rested and wonder if I dreamt all that, but then the yellow legal pad or messages I get in the morning are my tell all. That it wasn’t a dream. That I wasn’t in my “right” mind at all. And every time this happens is after 2100 hrs. It starts usually about then and ends whenever I fall asleep which is usually around 0300-0400 in the morning. I use military time because it is easier to write for me.

I am supposed to write something for the AAS blog but other than the piece I did write and was rejected, sort of, I have no clue what this person is looking for. And I am tired of trying to please someone. I wrote a three page blog last night at five in the morning because I was up and had all these thoughts in my head, but apparently, chronic pain and suicide doesn’t fathom her taste either. I am going to hold off on posting the blog for now as I want to re-read it and maybe make some edits. My therapist almost went apeshit on me when she found out that this person was going to rifle through my blogs. I don’t care. I really don’t. If a million people can have access to it, why can’t she. My therapist I have had to throw limits to because there are some stuff I just don’t want her to read. That is limiting just one person. And it’s not like people I know really read my blogs. There is a person in Taiwan that reads them and I don’t know him or her. That is the beauty of being anonymous. But when your therapist reads your blog, you know you are no longer anonymous and that frightens me. I know I post my blog on Facebook and a couple of my real friends have read it. But they don’t call me on it. Some people do. My sister had her friend over the other night and we were talking about Facebook and she called me by my real name (which still shocks me because I never get called that at home except by my mother) and she proceed to ask like WTF is wrong with me. In FRONT of my sisters and her friend. I kind of got embarrassed. I was like WTF. I post what I post and I don’t censor it all. Hell, if I censored my blog, all of them would be private and not available to help someone who is feeling the same thing I am feeling so what the hell is the difference. Just because you think your life is all happy and shit doesn’t mean that my life is. My life is miserable and I know that I can make it better by not being a part of the world but that is not going to happen. I have an eight year old that looks up to me and to tell her that I have died would just break her little heart. And knowing that I would be the cause of that is why I can’t go ahead with killing myself.

self hate

by Midnight Demon, posted in transgender

dec 18, 2012
I don’t think that my life has meaning anymore. I’m just here so other people won’t be sad. I have many issues that cause me to be suicidal. Chief being that I hate myself. I hate my external and internal self. I am the scum of the universe. I am so convinced of that.
I hate myself internally because I am not a male. I hate having ovaries and a uterus, not to mention breasts. I hate myself, actually loathe is more like it because I have breasts. I hate being a woman more than anything.
I hate having a chest and having to wear baggy clothes to hide them. It would kill me if I had to wear a bra. I know it would. No one ever asked me how I feel about myself except for my therapist. She’s trying to get me to talk to TG people but I’m scared. What if they just think I’m crazy? I wish I could slash my wrist severely to end my life or stab my chest so I could cut out the heartache of living with so much pain of not being in the right body. My luck I will just stab a breast and cause minimal damage.
Writing about this makes it seem fake. I really feel like I’m writing about nothing. I know that things will never change, that I’m never going to be a male. I’ll always have the bone structure of a female and that is what is killing me inside. No matter if I change my outward appearance, I still will be classified as a female.
I’ve decided not to shave my facial hair for a while. See if anyone notices or cares. I’m tired of shaving it but sometimes I do like to shave it. I just want to see how long it can get it to grow.

400th blog post: A post about Edwin Shneidman, PhD

by Midnight Demon, posted in mood disorders, suicide, suicide attempt

This is my 400th blog. I want it to be meaningful so I thought I would write about Dr. Edwin Shneidman. He was a wonderful man that I really admire. He was the father of suicidology and really pioneered the field.

His famous quotes, one of many, was that you should not kill yourself while you are suicidal. I think he meant it to be as a sort of giving yourself time before acting on such a dangerous act. I know that in my time I have been putting it off. It keeps me here.

My favorite book that he wrote was called “the suicidal mind”. I swear this guy was in my head as I was reading it. It perfectly described everything that I was feeling. The psychache, the despair, the guilty worthless feelings, all of it. He was the one that termed the word psychache, which is feelings of psychological pain that can best be described as feelings of despair, frustration, guilt, worthlessness, hopelessness, and helplessness.

His other connotations are constriction and perturbation. These two words are the most dangerous in a suicidal mind. The constriction means there is a narrowing of the mind, a kind of tunnel vision that is set on one thing: easing the psychache at any and all costs, by killing oneself. Perturbation is the agitation, frustration, the “must do something now” type feeling that provides that person to think about suicide and it is difficult to calm or settle these feelings once constriction is in full gear.

Another word Dr. Shneidman often uses to describe suicidality is press. This word is sort of a disambiguation. He uses it to describe a lot of things but mostly the pressure one feels to act on suicidal feelings and thoughts. It can also be used as a sort of perturbation. In Dr. Shneidman’s eyes, the level of the perturbation, press, and psychache will ultimately lead to suicide. If you were to rate each on a 1-5 scale model and have a 5-5-5, the likelihood of completing a suicidal act is greatly increased. In fact, he has stated that prolonged feelings of these three things are a major cause of suicide. No one can endure psychache, press, and perturbation for any length of time. You can have fluctuation of the these three things but once they have been at a sustainable level for any length of time, suicide is likely to follow.

Dr. Shneidman was a man that I greatly admire and respect. And what is very special to me and what I will always remember is him calling me out of the blue one day to discuss my paper that I sent him on “ten faces”. It was a paper that I wrote up for the AAS 41st annual conference and was my first poster session for this organization. I will always be grateful for that phone call.

morning after

by Midnight Demon, posted in depression

I realized this morning after I got a FB message from my South African friend that the midnight demons were in full gear last night. I don’t but do remember sending out basically goodbye messages to friends and writing a blog that was basically a goodbye blog. I don’t know why I got into my split personality but even though I am not feeling that way right now, I still am feeling blue.

I am babysitting my niece today. It has been a long day as I woke up early and still have another 3 hrs before my sister comes home from work. I don’t know what to do with this kid as it is raining outside. I so wanted to go to Starbucks today but that isn’t happening due to the weather. I haven’t been out of the house most of the week. I am going on three days being indoors. I just haven’t felt like getting dressed and stuff to make the excursion to the land of coffee. I have been drinking coffee with my sister’s Keurig but it’s not the same. If I see another bag of my Kati Kati, I am grabbing it!

I deleted my previous post. I felt I had to because it was too depressing and gloomy. I still don’t know why I become that suicidal and depressed. I know part of it has to do with my menses. I wasn’t this way when the menses were stopped. Even my psychiatrist notices a change in my behavior and manner when I bleed. So it is something obvious that I am not seeing. I just know that I get really emotional and cry at the slightest thing, get irate at the little inconvenience, and just downright suicidal. It’s like I am being possessed by a demon and it hurts very bad inside. My chest feels like there is an indescribable weight on it and I just am in a lot of psychological pain that is worse than any physical pain that I have ever experienced before.