Tag: psychological pain

The Struggle is Real

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

The struggle is real

I got papers from the SSA today. I am under review to see if I am still disabled. I might have to see their doctors and the whole process has me very nervous. I am still under a deep depression and still want to kill myself. If that isn’t being disabled, I don’t know what is. I struggle to do most things lately. Just going to my doctor’s office today to get my prescription left me exhausted. I had to take a nap. Then I woke up and I was in more pain than I was in. I think the pain meds wore off. I hate that I have to take them sometimes around the clock to keep the pain in check. I don’t know how I can be seen as “fit to work”. I still have the delusions about the bad people in the Middle East. Just before going to sleep, I was thinking about it and what I would tell the doctor. I don’t think anyone believes my story. If I have to see a physical doctor, I think I would be screwed. I am in pain but not in enough pain during the day. I just hope my mental disability is enough to keep me on SSA.

I have been so depressed lately. I just stay in my PJs all day. I never really get dressed unless I have to go out. It takes me a long time to figure out what I am wearing, even though it’s pretty much the same clothes it was the last time I went out. The weather is somewhat warmer, which is weird for November. It reached 60 degrees F. today. It’s better than the cold weather we had last week.

My cousin has been trying to reach me. He is the one with bipolar disorder and physically healthy but makes me do the damn stairs when my mother goes shopping. He drives me nuts because every time I talk with him, it’s the same thing. He asks me several times how I am doing, then we talk about our money issues or lack there of. The struggle with depression. Then he hangs up. I don’t get it. He left me a message the other night like he hasn’t talked to me in years. It was very strange. I never called him back. I just don’t feel like talking to people. And tomorrow I am supposed to go to my little cousin’s birthday party. I really don’t feel like being around family, especially my mother’s side. If my ankle hurts at all, I am not going. I feel bad for not seeing my other cousin from Texas but I got to take my health in consideration. I have a lot of cousins on my mother’s side of the family. And the family still is growing. My cousin Jonny’s girlfriend is pregnant so there will be another little one around. They don’t stay little forever. I remember when Jonny was little. He is almost 30 now.

I wrote on my papers that I sleep a lot. I just don’t have the energy like I used to. I didn’t even write in my journal when I went out this morning. I brought it with me in case I did, but I didn’t. I always carry it with me because if I don’t, I will want to write. I did write in my “night” journal before I took a nap. I have to write something a little each day so that I am not far behind. Because I use my blog so much as my journal, I sometimes don’t actually write.

I have decided that after this month, I am not keeping up with the Quote of the Day blogs. I am having trouble finding quotes from Shneidman. I could use other authors but I really like Shneidman because it keeps with my blog, which centers around suicidality. I also wrote that on my SSA papers that I am suicidal a lot. I haven’t been in the hospital in a year but that doesn’t mean that I won’t in the future. In fact, I am thinking of going soon because I feel so lousy. But I need to go with my father for some medical appointments so it will need to go after that. My sister will have to do his meds. I don’t care which sister it is. He won’t care that I am in the hospital. As long as his needs are met, that is the important thing. He doesn’t care about me or my issues.

I really don’t want to go to the hospital, only because I take a lot of medication and I am afraid like last time, there will be more to take than what I am currently on. They always split up one of my blood pressure medicines so instead of taking one pill, I take 4. I might bring the bottle with me so that they can use it and I don’t have to take so many pills. I don’t really care that I will be babysat or that at night the idiot will shine a light in my eyes to see if I am alive. I hate that bitch, but whatever. Complaining never does anything. That is if I get on the unit I want. Last time I had to wait and actually go to the hospital to get a bed there. That meant hauling my stuff via the public transportation system. It was rough. I only had two bags but they were full. This time I might bring a suitcase so I just carry one bag. I hate packing for the hospital. But for whatever reason, it “knocks” me into staying longer. Only thing that will suck is that I can’t have sessions with my therapist because she is not a member of the hospital system. We can talk for a little bit but that is all. It’s just disruptive. I don’t do anything different than I do when I am inpatient. I might go to the groups if they interest me but mostly they don’t because they are DBT based or they are arts and crafts. I don’t do arts and crafts. I think it’s stupid. But most people like it for whatever reason. On weekends they have psychotherapy group. I wish they had that during the week. It would help so much. But I guess because the “team” caregivers aren’t around, they have the therapy group. I just feel mixed about going. My treaters don’t know that I am thinking about this. If they did, they would encourage me to go in. But I just feel like I can handle things on my own, even though I know I am going in a downward spiral. The pain is just not going away, the psychological pain. And it is the trigger for my suicidality. Pain, perturbation, and press. Those are the three things that Shneidman says are necessary for suicide, in addition to frustrated needs not being met. Right now I just know I am hurting and struggling to breathe. I feel like I am drowning and no one is watching me go down.

Quote of the day 27 Nov 2015

by Midnight Demon, posted in Bipolar Disorder, blogging, depression, mental disorders, mental illness, mood disorders, psychache, Quotes, suicide, suicide attempt

The moment that the idea of the possibility of stopping consciousness (popularly called “death”) occurs to the anguished mind as the answer or the way out in the presence of the three essential ingredients of suicide (unusual constriction, elevated perturbation, and high lethality), then the igniting spark has been struck and the active suicidal scenario has begun. Edwin Shneidman, Definition of Suicide

Mixed Drinks

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

Mixed Drinks

As I was writing my last blog, a blogger friend that I have known for the past three years was having a hard time and I think she cut. I tried reaching out to her but got no response. I have been thinking about drinking all night. If I didn’t have to get up early tomorrow, I might seriously be considering it right now. I just feel so bad. I know what it’s like to have intense emotions you can’t control. Or to be in so much pain you want to cut to release it. It has been many years since I last cut, but sometimes I still get the urge. It’s just like drinking, just a different drug.

Thing that bothers me is that not only did my friend not reach out, I also gave her my number during our last Facebook message. Told her she could call anytime. I tried messaging her but I think she either blocked me or deactivated her FB account. I feel like I lost a friend to mental illness and there is nothing that I can do about it. It is not a good feeling to sit with.

I am not usually a drinker. I will drink occasionally. Tonight I had some wine after dinner. Not much, just a few sips to taste the new wine that my brother in law’s nephew brought over. It was good wine. But it turned on the drinker in me. I usually binge drink, especially when I am feel low. I usually resist the urge but tonight the urge is strong, even though I am still feeling full from all the good food that I ate tonight. I think if I drink, I might puke and I don’t want to be doing that. I already have been sneezing my head off for whatever reason. With every sneeze, my right side seizes with pain. I think I might have a hernia. Whatever the pain was, it seems to have abated for now.

I need to get some sleep but both my whiskey and gin bottles are staring at me. If I have the gin, I know it will burn going down. The whiskey has honey in it so that scares me because I can drink more than I should with no problem as it’s sweet. It’s not harsh like whiskey usually is. That is why I have just a quarter of a bottle left. It’d be no problem finishing it off. I won’t mix the gin with the whiskey, that is just gross. I am not sure even how it would taste. But I need to stay sober at least till tomorrow night. Then all bets are off.

Feeling Low Again

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

Feeling low again

I knew the good feelings that I had this morning were not going to last. I am crashing and it’s not fun. I don’t think it was hypomanic stuff because that usually last more than a few hours. I really think this is the crash that I never had when I was hypomanic. I don’t feel suicidal, but I would welcome death. I just want a cessation of feelings.

I am really full from all that I ate. I was so full from real food that I didn’t have dessert. There was no room for it. My mother made five pies and no one touched two of them. So the chocolate cream pie and custard are all mine. Those are the two that I love. I didn’t have the pumpkin pie my sister made. I really wanted to try it but I was afraid my stomach would bust if I did.

Now I am in my room and I am feeling like scum of the earth. It wouldn’t be a holiday without my father ragging on me for something. Apparently, I was supposed to bring the wine directly to my sister’s house, that day. He didn’t tell me this. I just assumed today would be fine. Plus, I had no idea if she would be home or not. I got very annoyed. I still am annoyed because I don’t get what the big fucking deal was. It wasn’t like the wine was going to go bad. It wasn’t opened, it wasn’t refrigerated when he gave it to me, and there was no indication to me that my sister was expecting the wine. He just likes making a big deal over nothing. Pisses me off. So that started the day. Now I want something stronger than wine to drink. Think I will have some Honey Whiskey before bed. Screw the drug interactions. I really don’t care. A shot or two won’t hurt.

I still am in awe that my therapist suggested that I do something with my blog that I wrote the other day. I still think it’s a work in progress though it will be going in my book. I don’t think I can publish it anywhere else. Even if I could publish it elsewhere, the NYT experience was something else. I don’t think I can do it again. I give credit to Kay Redfield Jamison. She can write and be successful. I am sure she has dealt with the negative stuff, too. But the difference is, I don’t remember what the hell I wrote the other night. I know it was a “successful” blog because there were a lot of hits on my stats and a blogger friend reposted it on her blog, so that generated more hits (thank you for that). All I do remember writing is the part where I am questioning whether my therapist is going to respond to a text I wrote her. That is the only thing that I remember from it. My blogger friend wrote that it was a description of depression. Someone else wrote that it was something that they couldn’t put into words. I suppose I should read it over one of these days. I think I will combine it with the blog I wrote on what it is like being suicidal. Those two will give me enough wordage for a chapter.

I wonder how many people with depression often feel dead inside. Another blogger friend was writing this tonight and it got me thinking. I often feel this way, but it’s more an emptiness than a dead feeling. But the words can be interchangeable, emptiness and dead. You just feel like nothing and that you rather be dead than alive. Or you feel more dead than alive, whatever that is. I have no idea what is meant by “being alive”. I don’t think I ever felt that way. Maybe when I was hypo, but that was feeling really good. That I remember like it was yesterday, even though it was months ago. I don’t know if it was the same as feeling “alive” but I know that it was better than feeling what I am feeling now, like shit.