Tag: psychological pain

Morpheus, Where are you??

by Midnight Demon, posted in Bipolar Disorder, blogging, Chronic pain, chronic physical pain, depression, mood disorders, suicide attempt

Morpheus where are you??

My stomach ache is gone but my foot has exploded so I had to take strong pain pills to kill it. I really would have loved to shoot myself in the foot. Least the pain would be explainable. But I would probably take the gun to my head instead at this point. I am feeling really poorly because I can’t fucking sleep. I have taken my regular pain meds, Ativan, and now the strong pain meds and I am still fucking awake.

I looked over my finances and the money I got paid yesterday is gone. I have only a hundred dollars to my name, which will be half that after I pay for my prescription later today and my T pass. I shouldn’t have bought groceries but I needed food, even though I am not eating very much these days. I think I have lost 10 pounds in two weeks because my appetite has been nothing. I have been eating just one meal a day and that has been it. I don’t feel hungry. And you would think that because of the weight loss, my pain would be less. NOPE. If anything, it has increased!! One physiatrist told me that even if I was my “normal” weight, I would still have back issues. Course, she didn’t say that in her notes. She said that I should lose weight. Talk about contradiction. If losing weight is supposed to decrease my pain, why does it increase it? Doesn’t make any fucking sense. My therapist would say I am the exception not the rule. I hate when she says that. She is reckless, like the new Martina McBride song. I can’t wait to get the lyrics because I think the song is perfect for our relationship. It’s not available on Amazon right now and I am pissed. I hate iTunes. It always crashes the computer.

I can’t take my pain anymore. I am going to go through with my plans this weekend. Fuck it. I am done. It probably won’t kill me but at least I will be seriously knocked out. I just need a fucking escape and I have it and I am going to use it. It is a done deal, for right now. I may still change my mind but I doubt it if this fire that is burning is still going on. I will text my therapist before I do it. Or maybe I won’t. Will be kind of stupid if I did.

It’s getting cool outside but it’s still hot in my room so I have the ceiling fan on. It’s a comfortable coolness in my room that I like. I will probably be cold in the morning but oh well. I am comfortable now. Why can’t I sleep then?? The meds have kicked in though now I am feeling nerve pain. I have found that I will have intense fucking physical pain and then when the opioids kick in, my foot/ankle will burn like it is on fire. Neurontin is the only thing that extinguishes these fires but I can’t take it now or I will be foggy brain later today and I need to be coherent because I have to see my “lovely” father.

When I saw him yesterday, he was speaking mostly Italian. My middle sister couldn’t understand a word he was saying. I don’t think she ever really grasped the language like I did when I was taking it in college and in high school. I may not know ALL that he says but I can get the gist of it, if he talks slow enough. If he talks fast, forget about it. I am lost. Maybe I should invest in the Rosetta Stone to learn Italian because he is going to be speaking it more as he ages. I think he thinks he is speaking English sometimes because when you tell him to speak English, he has a confused look on his face like “huh”?? And then he is silent because he is searching for the English translation to what he is saying. He will also talk slow like we are retarded or something. It’s very frustrating.

I am feel loads of pain in my left ankle down to my toes. The peroneal tendon must be inflamed because that’s what it feels like. I had a good pic of the tendon but I have no idea where it got saved to. The spasms that I had earlier before my foot exploded must have triggered the tendon. Fuck. I wish I could just cut the sucker out and be done with it. I am so sick of being in fucking pain.

Every morning a little after 0100, I get a text from the Twitter account of Dilbert. I love the comic strip. It makes me laugh. Very few things these days make me laugh but Dilbert does.

I feel like having ice cream now that my tummy feels better but the effects of the strong pain pills is starting to make me feel woozy. It funny because I will feel high for about 30 seconds and then I will just collapse. This happens to me almost every time I take it. It’s very rare that I am able to fight the effects of this medication. I hope Morpheus finds me and I can sleep. I just hope he doesn’t bring me dreams about Jobes again. Those are weird. Dreaming about a psychologist that I respect a great deal and then following him around like a puppy? No thanks, Morpheus.

Need to Escape

by Midnight Demon, posted in Bipolar Disorder, blogging, chronic physical pain, depression, mood disorders, suicide

Need to escape

I had another difficult therapy session today. It will be in another blog as it’s percolating right now and I am not sure if I should continue to type or handwrite it. She asked me today what number my need to escape was and I said a 9 on a scale of 1-10. So she said that I should make today all about me, whatever that means. I still feel the need to runaway and not return. Trouble is I have no means, other than killing myself, to get away. We talked a lot about me killing myself today. To my surprise, she was tolerating it despite me knowing how much anxiety it gives her. I threw a question out to her about if she would go to my funeral. That stopped her in her tracks. I actually don’t know if I will have a funeral. I haven’t made my will out yet and that is one thing I have been contemplating. Her grief sometimes stops me from going through with my plans, but sometimes I just say fuck it because I want to do what *I* want to do, and that is end this miserable fucking life.

We talked a lot, more than I wanted to, about my bastard father. He is the only person that I know that has at least three 8×10 pictures of himself in his house. He is the very definition of narcissism. Yet he calls me selfish and a liar.

I wanted to go out today but my ankle is being a bitch. I have been up since 0500. I am tired and might take a nap before dinner, if I can write out the therapy session that is bugging me. I really wanted to go to Starbucks to get some more coffee for the house. I had the last of the Pike this morning. I don’t know which kind I want to get. My choices are Pike, House Blend, or Breakfast Blend. I usually rotate between the three. I think I might get Breakfast Blend as I haven’t had that in a long while. I am still good with my Kati Kati and Brazil coffees.

The 22nd can’t come soon enough. I really need to talk about my damn nasal congestion. I know I am almost always congested but it’s been worse the last few months. It clears up on it’s own but then gets clogged up again and now my sinuses are starting to feel affected. They really hurt and I have a constant slight headache from the pressure. My discharge is still clear so I know there isn’t an infection but damn, I am just miserable. And I hate breathing through my mouth most of the time. It’s wearing me out.

I am almost done with the writing book that I am reading. I should be done with it today. I read this morning about keeping a day journal to store ideas and other thoughts about writing. So now that I got some stuff percolating about my book and my therapist’s session, I pulled out a composition book and placed it on my bed for easy access. The book also suggested making a box of ideas, but I am not that advanced as a writer. I told my therapist that I was going to look for my psychology book to do some research for my book. It’s been a while since I learned about the different psych disorders. It might be a little outdated as far as the DSM goes but most of the criteria for the major disorders have stayed the same. I really want to write a chapter about narcissism but other than being vain and an asshole, I don’t know what other types of characteristics there are.
Another nice thing about this book was that it has short chapters, which is what I want my book to be. I really don’t want the chapters to be drawn out, about 2000 words or less. The only big story is the Darkness piece, but that can be trimmed down. I don’t want to edit right now while I am still trying to work on writing. It will just be confusing. The author of the book actually wrote another book based on about 850 words per chapter. That is when I got excited because my writing is about that length and is doable. If something really needs to be longer, than so be it but 850 seems like a good goal.

Self-Harm Recovery

by Midnight Demon, posted in depression, mood disorders

This is a story I wrote for a website.

Self-Harm Recovery

I started self-harm (cutting) when I was 15. It happened after a traumatic night in my house. I snapped and was looking for a way to channel the pain that I was feeling. I really wanted to die but didn’t know how to. So I decided to “dig” for a vein hoping it would kill me. I never got that far.

Over the years I changed methods, from scissors to razors. I found that razors worked best to alleviate my pain that I was feeling. I remember when I was 17 that I dissociated while I was cutting. It was the only time I lost time while doing self-harm.

During one distressing December, my therapist was on vacation and I cut to the point of needing stitches. I was a trained medical assistant at the time so soon after I got home from the hospital (which was my shortest hospital stay ever), I took the stitches out. I kept the wound open for a good month or so, cutting it every day. This was in 1997. By the time the New Year rolled around, I was getting tired of leaving the wound opened so I made new cuts. This went on for another month or so. I had changed therapists. The new social worker that I met was a DBT therapist and we talked about cutting in detail, such as why I did it, and the like. She told me something that no one had told me before: You can feel but not act on your feelings. That stayed with me.

Around this time, cutting lost its appeal to me. It no longer was the “drug” I was craving. Since then, I haven’t cut, though the urges are sometimes there when I am having a difficult time. I still have my “kit” but I hardly know it’s there. I suppose I could get rid of it as I no longer need it.

Stigma and depression

by Midnight Demon, posted in Bipolar Disorder, depression, mood disorders

People with depression sometimes do not have a reason for a depressive episode, sometimes they occur without any triggers and even when every part of that person’s life is going well. You do not need a reason to feel depressed. STOP making people feel bad for feeling depressed!!