Tag: psychological pain

Feeling heartbroken

I know this is probably all the sleep deprivation as I have been up since 0500. Psychache is running high. I just feel like my world is falling apart and I don’t know why that is. I read a blog a little while ago. I like this person’s blog. She has a similar condition like mine. We have been talking for more than a year now. She wrote in her latest blog that she is planning on ending her life and that makes me sad to lose her or think of losing her. I know it is her right. I wrote that in my latest Quote for the Day. I am just feeling really emotional right now. I really want to cry.

I think spending time with my father has really warped my head. He was such an ass today. I was helping him do something, and he said thank you, but I don’t believe his sincerity. I have known him too long. Then I read something about Narcissists. Described my father to a T and I just read the first line of the article. My therapist says that I have a narcissistic injury because of him. I have no idea what that means. I will ask her about it tomorrow when I talk with her.

Since the turmoil with my therapist, I haven’t been able to write anything for my book. Doesn’t look like it will get done this year. I am stuck at page 30 and there I will stay. I just can’t think of anything to write. I want to finish the roots story but I am having trouble because my damn pen keeps running out of ink when I start working on it. I keep forgetting to replace the pen in my pocket in my jeans. I am such a loser.

Since my friend has been talking about how she wants to end her life because of pain, it stirred up my feelings on the matter. Before I read her story, I wanted to put a plastic bag over my head. It was laying on my bed, innocent as can be and I just had this rush of wanting to end my life like that. The feelings didn’t last long but it was there. I can’t deny it. I think of these things often, of ending my life, not putting a bag over my head. Yet I am for suicide prevention. I am such a hypocrite. I would stay up all night with someone if it meant saving their life but I wouldn’t reach out when I am suicidal. Sure I write on my blog. I vent about how sucky my life is. How I am in pain nearly every single day. That I am probably dependent on the pain medication I am on. I am not addicted. There is a difference between addiction and dependence. I don’t take more than I should of my medication. Sometimes I don’t even take it because the pain is just not that great. I am not saying I like being in pain, but why take a pill when my pain is minimal? It’s when it’s unbearable I take my pills. It might be too late by then but least I have something. My friend doesn’t have anything except MJ. Because of all the stupid damn bullshit around opioid use, doctors are scared to prescribe it to real chronic pain patients. I am always afraid my doc will stop prescribing my meds. That will be the day he signs my death certificate.

I read today that one of my Twitter buddies was looking for purpose. I often wonder if I have a purpose in this world. My therapist and psychiatrist always says that I do. But I don’t feel it. I don’t have a life worth living as Marsha Linehan would say. Actually, I don’t know what she would say. I know I just want to belong, to feel connected. I wrote something on Twitter and no one responded. I have my tweets also go to Facebook and got more responses. I have 500 Twitter followers and not one of them responded to my tweet. It’s like unless I include them in the tweet, it just gets ignored. I honestly don’t get the Twitter world sometimes. Yet I will say something profound and get many retweets and favorites. Go figure that out. I don’t think anyone cares what I say anymore.