Enduring the unendurable

I thought I would try and write a little bit about my thinking about suicide and what it means. I have spent the last hour reading up on Shneidman’s psychache, the psychological pain that encompasses you to think only about ending the pain, even if it means ending your life. Then I read some more about the factors that go into psychache and suicidal thinking. It was a refresher course in knowing about suicide as psychache.

In getting to what my therapist wanted to me to write about constriction, there really is nothing to write. It is a term concocted by Shneidman that basically means you are fixated on one thing to ease your pain. But what I did come across, that is interesting, is what the Emperor of Japan said to his people after the end of WWII. He basically told them to “endure the unendurable and suffer what is unsufferable” so as to contain any suicides as the Japanese are an honorable country. That thinking is the formula for outliving a suicidal crisis.

I have been feeling good the past few days and don’t know why. I don’t know if it is hypomania or what but my mood has totally did an about face. It is eerily weird to feel so carefree. Yet in the back of my mind I am scheming and plotting to end my life in two months. Least that is what I think I am thinking. But then my friend from Nebraska reconnected with me. I am thinking that maybe I can take the Emperor’s advice and try to keep enduring the unendurable. I know I say this now that I am not experiencing any dysphoria or physical pain. I just can’t think that I can stop thinking about killing myself is somehow contributing to my euphoric feelings because I know I have a way out of my suffering. It is a funny place to be, and I don’t mean the ha ha kind of funny. I never have felt good for more than a few days at a time and this go round will be almost a week that I have felt up.

Since reconnecting with my college friend, I feel that I must tell him that I might not be around that much longer. I think he has the right to know as we have been friends for almost fifteen years now. But will I cause worry? Will he believe me when I tell him this? Or will he just chalk it up with the myth that talking about it means you won’t do it? I won’t know until I tell him. I rather he find it out from me than from someone else, though seeing as we have few friends in common, the likelihood of him finding out will be slim/next to none. But then I wonder how many of my friends will find out that I have died. I thought of writing a note to someone to tell them what to do as I don’t think my family would be able to do it but I don’t think that I can do that. Most likely that friend would ignore me or think that I am just talking.

Hot and muggy

Hot and muggy

It’s a very warm day in Boston today. I am sweating and not liking this heat very much. I have not done anything except edit my book and talk to my therapist. She wants me to do a SSF, suicide status form as “the situation calls for it.” I could care less at this point. I am just so pissed off. I didn’t want to talk to her today. I should have canceled but I know she would have called me anyways.

Since finding out my date, she has been acting like a total psycho. I guess the date has some significance for her and it’s not like I knew that. I didn’t. I know her birthday is in Aug but it is NOT the day I picked to end my life. So I don’t know what her problem is. People die every day. We have put the date off for now but I don’t think I can. I want to end my life because I am tired of being in pain all the time. I can’t stand living like this anymore. I feel like a useless piece of shit. I told her I wrote to my psychiatrist a letter that I will probably send the day of the deed. I just can’t send it to her now because she probably will hospitalize me against my will again. I don’t want to be in the hospital and it will do no good being in the hospital because they just want to change your meds and if they can’t do that than within three days you are released. What are you going to accomplish in three days? NOTHING.

Why am I against the SSF? I don’t know, maybe because I am the one that introduced it to her and I feel like it is a slap in the face. I don’t think this will work because she never follows through with the whole thing anyways. We never resolve my suicidality. Soon as I don’t feel like doing one, it gets dropped and the whole thing fails. I guess I feel like why should I fill out a piece of paper that is going to tell me how I already feel? It’s not like I don’t hate myself, have psychache, am stressed to the maxed, am hopeless beyond belief, and am going to kill myself in a few months. I have no reason for living, and plenty of reasons for dying. Having my menses still is one of them.

I have had my menses for more than a month now. I am tired of it and my skin is irritated by the feminine products I have to wear and by my underwear. I am not used to wearing elastic fitting underwear that women wear. I rather wear boxer shorts but you can’t hold a feminine product in them. It makes me so uncomfortable and angry. More angry than I know what to do with and I have no one to take it out on. It’s not anybody’s fault really. I have the xx chromosome and not the xy so I guess I can blame my father as he is the one responsible for the Y chromosome! Another reason to hate him!

I know a shower might do me some good, washing off the stink of things and maybe cool me down some from this heat but I just can’t be bothered right now. I will later today. I have to as I really reek. I can no longer use deodorants because I have a rash under my armpit. It is going to be an interesting summer. I also have not shaved in a while because I have an open scratch where the rash is. I can’t help it. It is itchy!! So far the only thing helping is hydrocortisone cream. I hope it goes away soon.

Another thing about the SSF, it is not that I don’t like it. I actually praise it because it is a good tool to use. But the draw back like I said before is that I don’t think it can help me because I know how to “cheat” on it, per se. I know what the answers should be and that does not help me in the long run.

Another thing she asked me today was what was my psychache. I have not filled out a Holden psychache scale in so long. I don’t know what it would be. And again, it doesn’t matter. All it will prove is that I have psychological pain. I just feel very hopeless about this. I can’t help it. I am trying to get her to see that she will be losing me and to get away from me as far as she can and she just won’t do it. I just don’t care.

a little bit about psych hospitalizations

Had a frustrating session with my therapist today. She was all in my business on the transgender issues today for some reason. I don’t know why she brings it up and I just get really mad when she does because I feel like she is really getting into my personal business. I just feel like if I want to talk about it, I WILL bring it up, not her. She feels that I should be in a TG group, which I don’t want to be in. Right now I got so many different things going on in my head, the last thing on my mind is my TG. I am really struggling dealing with chronic pain all the time and wanting to escape from it but knowing there is no escape unless I am sleeping 24/7. Today I had a quick shower, less than fifteen minutes, and I still was in pain from standing that length of time. It sucks. I am supposed to have coffee with a friend of mine today. I am still waiting for his phone call to meet up.

The we talked a little about how yesterday fizzled me. I don’t know but I feel like I am going to explode soon with anger toward her. I know that part of the reason is that I brought up the roots of why I am suicidal, though it still isn’t quite clear. All I remember is that I wanted to die when I was eight years old. By the age of ten I was planning my death on my birthday because I didn’t want to make it to eleven. Greed spoiled that plan because I wanted to see what kind of gifts I got and I wasn’t going to kill myself on Christmas. That would be wrong as God would never have forgiven me (this was what I was thinking at the age of ten). I was depressed from then on but always kept it hidden from everyone. I tried to keep it hidden though some days I just didn’t want to be around anyone. I started moving away from my best friend in middle school. We were at different schools and different grade school levels. I didn’t want to burden him with my thoughts of death. He wanted me to see someone but I knew I wasn’t crazy so why talk to a counselor. I just thought that I would get in huge trouble if I spoke to some one outside of the family. Things that went on in the family, stayed in the family. I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone what was going on. And it hurt because I was hurting. I don’t know why. My father was an asshole and still is. He cares more about himself than another person. He is part of the reason I turned out the way I did. My mother didn’t really do anything to stop my father from being abusive. She just let him have the run of the household like wives do. And my sisters dealt with it by turning to their friends. I didn’t have too many friends outside of school until high school. Then there was just this one friend but still I don’t think she knew just how great my suicidality was. We didn’t talk about it. We avoided feelings and just hung out and listened to music or do homework. We were the nerds in school. I didn’t mind it. Schoolwork kept my mind off things. Until everything fell apart during my freshman year. I can’t talk about the details because it will just trigger my PTSD. Even now I am getting anxious about it.

So with all this stuff that my therapist knows, why would my TG (transgender) stuff be at the highlight of my life right now? I know that she thinks that the reason why I planned a date is because if I don’t do something to change me, then I will die. But things have changed now. Yes I could move forward to my transition and be all good with that, but that still isn’t going to change the fact that I have chronic pain every day that isn’t helped with medication. Sometimes the medication does help. Sometimes the cream that my doctor prescribed helps. I didn’t plan or maybe I already knew that things are always going to be the same. I am always going to be in pain in some shape or another. And that is why I feel like I can’t go on anymore. It is my decision. No one has the right to stop me. They can try and prevent it by putting me in the hospital but that is no guarantee that when I get out, I won’t kill myself. More patient die on discharge than anything. And even the hospital knows this. They know that if you are chronically suicidal, they still let you out after a few days in. It’s like they are saying “well, we stopped the immediate threat of you killing yourself but we hope that by keeping you here we took that away. No, you are still suicidal? Well you can go home now”. I have had this happen to me time and time again. No I have not attempted while discharged but it left me feeling like no one cared or maybe they just didn’t believe that suicidality can lasts more than 3-14 days. And you know part of it is dictated by the insurance company that you have. It’s like the insurance company says when you are well and when you are not. Soon as you show some interest in groups and start participating in the hospital program, boom, ready for discharge, even if your life still sucks and you want to die. They don’t have time to deal with you wanting to die. Just want to know if today you are going to kill yourself. Because if you want to kill yourself next week or the day after that is fine. You can do that. And I love when they ask you will you come back if the suicidal feelings return. UM, hello, they never left!!

So in essence, you are better off not going in the hospital. The best course is to stay in outpatient treatment as long as possible. Because either way, you are still going to have the same therapist to deal with when you get out of the hospital unless you quit therapy. Then you truly are on your own.

piece of glass in the heart

Been in a numb mood most of the day. I tried to explain to my therapist what I was feeling and that I wanted to be left alone and she asked what does that mean. I told her I just wanted to deal with things on my own and she didn’t buy it. She wants me to write but I have no interest in writing. I just write these blogs to have something to say and maybe get something going but it hasn’t been working. I have been hoping my blog would open up what is inside of me but for the past few weeks I don’t feel like it has been doing much good. I know that people from around the world have been reading the stuff I wrote about Cauda Equina. Today Germany read my blog. I feel like I am an international writer.

I just feel like crap inside. I can’t really explain it. Today was the memorial service for Sean Collier, the MIT police officer that was shot to death by the bombers last week. There still has been no motive for killing him. I have been choked up with tears. He was so young and I envy him being death. I would gladly take his place if I could to ease the suffering of his family. I have been crying most of the day, and not little sobs. Just big crying for no reason. The news of his memorial service was the beginning and then I just cried. I couldn’t hold it in. Course this was after my therapy appointment. I don’t know why I am crying so much. My therapist says that I have PTSD, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, because of the events of last week. I know I have some symptoms of it but I don’t think it is full blown. I just am scared still. I know the people have been caught but there is no guarantee that there is someone else out there planning to do the same thing, or worse.

In addition to the crying, I also have been numb. I just don’t feel anything. I have been trying to get in touch with my feelings but it is no use. I am out of touch with them. I know I am depressed. I also have been thinking about death again, if anything just as an escape of what I am feeling. I feel numb but it is a hurting kind of numb. It’s hard to explain and I know that doesn’t make sense. How can being numb hurt? I don’t know but I do hurt inside and it is wicked deep. If I stop to think about it I can’t breathe. It’s too overpowering. Like Casey James described in one of his songs, it is like a piece of glass in the heart.