Tag: psychological pain

Pens and Coffee

by Midnight Demon, posted in blogging, depression, suicidality

Pens and Coffee

I waited almost an hour for the bus to the square today. It was snowing and freezing cold. Luckily, it wasn’t windy or it would have been more cold. I don’t know why the bus was late. I didn’t get the text alert for it being late until I got to my destination. If I didn’t have to put in some paperwork for my student loans, I wouldn’t have ventured out today.

Starbucks had a new latte, which I had today. It was different than a normal latte. I added hazelnut syrup to it so it had some taste. The barista that made it has not tried it yet and wanted my opinion. Once you got past the overwhelming espresso taste on the first sip, it was pretty good. It is called a Flat White latte. It was expensive though, so I don’t think I will order it again. It cost about a dollar more than a regular latte. I am still waiting for them to come out with a good Clover coffee. They have new ones and I want my java back! I hope the spring time coffees bring it back. I miss having a Clover coffee.

There was hardly any seats available at the place when I got in. An old man was hogging up three seats across from him. He got very rude and indignant when I tried to sit down in from of him. I told him he was wrong and walked away. Luckily, a person was leaving so I took her seat, at the end of the long table. I couldn’t believe the nerve of that guy. He made me very angry. He could have been more polite and I think that is what made me angry, his rudeness.

After I settled in my new spot, I got out my reading material and notebook for the blog post. I then realized I forgot to bring a pen with me. I can’t believe I left the house without a pen. It’s like the AMEX card, I never leave home without one. But this time I did because I changed jeans and didn’t check the pockets before leaving my room. Luckily, my bag had my favorite pen. It had actually several, which was good. The first pen I chose however was blue ink and I can’t stand writing in blue when the rest of my notebook is in black ink. Yes, I am particular about the inks and pens I use. The second choice was the one kind that I have been using the past several years. I use Uniball Jetstream pens, black ink, for the past several years. I love them so much, I that it is the only type of pens I buy. I used to buy different kinds, from gel inks, ball point pens, etc. but now have settle on the Jetstream brand. I was browsing through Amazon and found that they came out with a BLX kind that I am hoping to get my next paycheck. These have different color tops but are the same black ink. They look really cool! But I digress…

I did some work on my blog post. It is so hard trying to write about this stuff because it means so much to me. I hope the Mental Health Professionals (MHPs) that read this blog take some information from it and use it in their practice. I have realized today, that it’s not going to be a short blog. There is no way it can be. There is just too much information to share. I love working on this as it is refreshing my memory on what it’s like being in research. And I am learning more about the SSF’s inner workings than ever before.

Today, while I was sitting at Starbucks, I had a pang of suicidality. I can’t help but think why am I still here. I don’t want to be here, at all. Yet I continue to be alive for whatever reason. My writing partner said that I am here because I have things that keep me here. I will also be fighting my suicidality, which is the main reason I found the SSF and Jobes’ work. I really don’t think I will be here if I didn’t find that article by Dr. Shneidman. I would have fell into despair and given into the statistics of all the reasons why I should be dead. Because, after all, everyone is a statistic in one shape or form. But as my writing partner and therapist have stated, I am the outlier. I still haven’t figured out where that point of data lies though..

Don’t call me daughter 2

by Midnight Demon, posted in bipolar, blogging, psychache, suicidality, suicide, suicide attempt, transgender

Don’t call me daughter 2

I had a conversation with one of my Twitter buddies about being TG. He got me thinking that I still have not made any steps forward in this endeavor since I tried to come out to family last year. My sister read my book, so I know she now knows that I am transgender. Now comes the hard part, do I tell my mother? I have been wanting to for some time now but can’t bring up the nerve to go through with it. I know she will say that I will “always be her daughter” and that is going to be hurtful to me. I don’t want to be called “daughter”. In the song by Pearl Jam, “Daughter”, one line goes like this: “don’t call me daughter, not meant to be, the picture left will remind me”. I remember during an intense painful time in my life, these words spoke volumes to me like they do today. Granted it was a different meaning, meaning I didn’t deserve to be called “daughter” because I was such a despicable person.

After my conversation with my Twitter buddy, I got depressed, which lead me listening to Pearl Jam. I still hate myself so very much. I want to get rid of the things on my chest so badly. I bet I would lose 30 lbs instantly, LOL. Damn suckers are so damn heavy anyways. But I don’t know who to talk to about getting them cut off. My psychiatrist is still out of the office and she isn’t answering my emails. I am getting frustrated with her. I would call her but her pager has been signed out to another clinician, one that doesn’t know me. And I don’t talk to my therapist until Tuesday to discuss these things. Maybe I should call the LGBTQ clinic on Monday and see if I get anywhere. I think I want to try taking testosterone and see if that helps me. I just don’t know if my insurance will cover it.

I am not scared to try anymore. I think that if I do move forward with this, the lingering depression that I feel will lift and maybe I won’t be so suicidal anymore. But I can’t move forward with this. I know my mother is not going to accept me. She could barely accept that I like women, how is she going to accept that I am the wrong gender. And what if she gets so pissed off, she kicks me out of the house? What then? I doubt it as she needs me financially but there are things better than money. And I am not quite sure if her possible rejection will send me to another suicidal crisis. If my own mother can’t accept me, what reason, really, do I have to live for?

I have struggled for years with my suicidality and only in the last five years or so have I realized that the majority of why I was suicidal is not only because I don’t like myself, but because I can’t stand being in the wrong body. It became evident when I made the connection between my menstrual cycle and being purely suicidal. Then I would bleed, and a switch went off and I felt I was just dreaming of being suicidal but I wasn’t because my therapist and friends were on me, seriously worried about me. I can’t say that my mother knows me. She may say she does, but she doesn’t have the first inkling about me. If she did, she would know how torturous it is being in the wrong body. But I know she doesn’t think like that. No one does. It was all for me to figure out one day. I have had twelve different therapists from all different disciplines. IF they figure out the reason for my suicidality, they sure as hell didn’t tell me.

I remember being emotional whenever I brought it up in the beginning. I cried in my therapist’s office (back when we were seeing one another) and she held me, telling me I was going to make it through. I had no idea what she was talking about. I just wanted to die. I hate myself so much it hurts. I don’t even know how I can love anyone when I have so much hate towards myself. My therapist now thinks that going forward with TG stuff is the “only” way to ease my suicidal suffering. I think that she is wrong. It might help in the short term, but I don’t think it is going to help in the long term. I have heard stories of TG people go through with their sex reassignment only to kill themselves afterwards. Why? Most likely, because they were not accepted by the people that were supposed to accept them. I still have no idea how I am going to explain this to my “kids”. I have a homophobic nephew, two caring nieces, and a little pre-teen niece that has her own mental issues. Maybe I will come out to my older niece first and then see how it goes. If I lose their love, it will be the death of me. I know I cannot handle their rejection of me. It will hurt more than my mother’s rejection because we raised my nieces to be accepting of people. I don’t know what happened with my nephew. I blame his teacher for telling him that gays aren’t born gay. They choose to be it. In his mind, only girls choose to be gay. Boys don’t choose because they are always straight. Least that is what I think he thinks. It has been a while since he explained it to me. But he is ignorant and still doesn’t know the world so I don’t blame him. But if I lose his love, it will kill me. He has been the main reason I am still alive. I couldn’t bear to die knowing that he needed me, especially when I was going through a hard time his first year of life. I would say goodbye to him, not knowing if I would see him again. My suicidality twenty years ago was horrific. I was in and out of mental hospitals for six months, until I took an almost fatal overdose that landed me inpatient for two and a half months. That would be unheard of today. No one stays that long in the hospital anymore, though there are exceptions.

I just don’t want to be anymore. I really just rather die than to deal with all this bullshit of becoming a man. It’s not like my bones are going to change. My pelvis will always be revealed as a woman. And that is what kills me every time I think about it. Got to thank a “Bones” episode for that. I know I will kill myself one day. I just hope it is sooner rather than later.

CAMS preview

by Midnight Demon, posted in bipolar, blogging, depression, mental disorders, mental illness, mood disorders, psychology, psychosis, suicidality, suicide, suicide attempt, suicide attempt survivor

Jobes

For those wondering, here is what a future blog post of CAMS is about. I will be writing more about this and the SSF in greater detail.

Promoting is hard work

by Midnight Demon, posted in blogging, chronic physical pain, depression

I remember this time last year, I was filled with anxiety about my book. I had done all I could do with the editing piece before my editor would actually read it. I had to wait almost four months before she would work on it and the waiting was filling me with doubts. This year, I am working hard on “selling” my book. It hasn’t been easy as I have no idea how to promote. I don’t have nor can afford an agent. I tried in September to get one and got no response. It has been a hard few months just selling two copies of my book a month, either via Kindle or paperback. Last month I had a promotion and sold 3 books on Kindle. It was the most I have sold since my book came out. In total, I think I have sold something like 70 books between the two formats. My goal was to reach 100 copies sold by year’s end. I still have a few months to go and I hope that it comes easily. I am hashtagging the crap out of it on Twitter, the only social media that I know of. I also use my blog but it doesn’t get more than twenty views a day and most of the time, it is not on the blog link. Even if people read my book page, they don’t click on the link to get it. It is very frustrating. I am glad I have other income or I would be screwed.

My physical therapy appointment got cancelled early this morning. They called before eight to say that my therapist was sick! Talk about courtesy. So I went to Starbucks even though it killed my back. I really wanted to work on a new blog for CAMS/SSF. I got overwhelmed with the first chapter alone so only wrote so much. It’s a lot of information and I know that I will be writing at least 1500 words for this. I want to make it count as there are at least 5 therapists that follow my blog and Twitter account. So I want to write a good blog. I know my perfectionism is what is getting in the way.

I have decided that in the new year, I am getting 90 day supply of my medication because dishing out $70 for 1 month supply every month is getting to me. Hopefully my doc will allow it. I know that my pain meds and Ativan can’t be 90 day supply but that is just two of the twelve meds that I take. I have a new prescription carrier for the new year so hopefully it will actually save me money, in the end. I am spending more on my meds than groceries or food. Luckily, I got Starbucks money for Christmas and my birthday so I don’t have to dish out $25/mth for a while. I am glad my mother gave me cash for Christmas because I am short on getting my blood pressure med this month. There are some meds I can sacrifice, but I can’t do that with my blood pressure. Last thing I need is a stroke.

I really need to take a shower today. I leaked on the way home and I smell. Fucking hate when I leak and I don’t realize it until I go to the bathroom. On the other hand, I haven’t gone to do #2 in a few days so I am not looking forward to going. I took a laxative a couple of hours ago so I go sometime tonight I hope. Just another pill I have to take. And with me taking increased pain meds, I need to be regular. I can’t believe I was so stupid in forgetting to take the senna. But I have been playing the “what I feel like taking, I’m taking” game because I didn’t fill my pill box for the week. I filled it about an hour ago so I don’t have to play that game this week. Some how last night I forgot to take my hormone pill. I don’t even remember if I took my pills last night so it’s good I filled the box. I hope I don’t have my menses because I missed a pill. I will be so bullshit!

My mood kind of sucks today. It took me forever to get organized for the blog that I am writing. I should really call it a paper or review, as that is mostly what I am doing. I can’t believe that I haven’t written, in detail, about the SSF or CAMS before now. I tried to find it in my book but I just gave a brief overview of what they are. I want this paper to be more detailed. But it’s exhausting me because there is so much information, and Jobes had the same ideas that I did, though not exactly at the same time. He was able to come up with something brilliant and useful. I just am promoting his ideas. And promoting as I have learned with my book, is hard work!