Tag: psychological pain

Birthday in Review

by Midnight Demon, posted in bipolar, blogging, cauda equina syndrome, suicide, suicide attempt

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Birthday in review

This time last year, I was thinking of taking my life. I was sure I was going end things. My book was done and I didn’t care if it got published or not. But I had commitments to keep. I had to keep my relationship with my writing partner. I had to keep going for my therapist’s sake. And by the time this day came, I really didn’t want to take my life. I wanted to see my book published. I wanted to see if I could lose weight (I would gain and lose for most of the year).

The relationship I have with my therapist is unconventional. Today, I finally saw her after months of not seeing her. She dressed my 3 ft bear with a birthday hat and a card. The card was a goofy one, as show in this post. But the words that she wrote really touched me. She called me exceptional, something I have never heard before. Unlike my father who said that I smelled. I didn’t shower today and don’t plan on it. I did way too much today and my ankle is thanking me kindly. And I still have my party to attend.

My therapist is someone who is very extraordinary. She goes beyond the limits of any therapist I have ever had before. I have had 12 before her so I know. She has always been there for me, at my worst times and is usually available for the extra session or two when I really need it or when I don’t want it. Though she is terrified of losing me when I bring up the “S” word, we work through her issues as well as mine. I finally had the idea of using a code word to tell her when she has become tense. There is a baseball on her desk that she keeps there. She knows I am a baseball freak so the word baseball would not in itself clue her in that I noticed a change in her demeanor. So I came up with “baseball on your desk” as the code word. In that process, my hope is that she gets ‘grounded’ and figures out that I can tell she is tense so I can be more comfortable being open to my dark feelings. It’s a process. I don’t know if it is going to work, but we’ll see.

This year has been tough. Not every month was a good month. I got hospitalized again this year because I was close to ending my life, again. I don’t think I will ever be free of wanting to end my life, and I know that one day I will succeed. But right now, it’s not on my mind. I just am letting the day be and hope to god that I don’t crap my pants today because of this damn cough I got. I am not living, I just am being a part of this thing called life, which I hate. I still don’t want to “be” anymore. But like I said before, I have commitments to people that I take seriously. I have responsibilities to my family, whether it is helping to pay for bills or watching my niece when my sister needs me to (and I am able to). I have “grown up” the past year, though it wasn’t an easy thing to do. I am learning to live on a fixed income, which isn’t easy.

I became more active on Twitter and met people close and afar. I have been involved in chat groups, something that I have missed since the early days of the internet. I follow my childhood idol, Wil Wheaton and his wife, Anne. I have learned just how geeky Wil is and how much his wife adores animals. Just recently, she rescued a pup called Lucy. She is only 10 weeks old and was malnourished. Anne found a good home for her and the pup is doing quite well. It brightens my day when I see a PUPDATE text on my phone (I have mobile notifications for both Wil and Anne as well as a few other members of the STTNG cast). Twitter has brought me to socialize on social media in ways I never thought possible and to expand my network, making new friends every day. Most of my Twitter buddies are therapists as I try to spread information about lived experience and my thoughts about suicide prevention. But I also have buddies that I follow for baseball and my beloved Buckeyes and Huskers. I follow them to keep abreast of new information. I don’t read newspapers so Facebook and Twitter are my news info. I just recently made 300 followers. I hope this time next year I have 400.

What also has been a life saver for me is my writing on this blog. I do it whenever I feel like it or when I have to express my feelings in a safe way. I doubt I would still be here without the blogger world support. A few months ago, I asked if I should keep the blog or shut it down after my hospitalization because I was getting negative feedback. The response was an overwhelming yes. I guess it is true that a few bad apples can spoil a good thing. I have tried to avoid these apples but they creep up every now and then. One blogger comment basically was begging me to kill myself. I have noticed that when my blogs are at the worst, is the only time s/he “likes” my posts.

I can write more, but I have a party to attend…my own! So if you are reading this and are struggling, hold on, there is hope!

How Far

by Midnight Demon, posted in blogging, depression, mood disorders, suicide, suicide attempt

“How Far”

There’s a boat, I could sail away
There’s the sky, I could catch a plane
There’s a train, there’s the tracks
I could leave and I could choose to not come back
Oh never come back

There you are, giving up the fight
Here I am begging you to try
Talk to me, let me in
But you just put your wall back up again
Oh when’s it gonna end

[Chorus:]
How far do I have to go to make you understand
I wanna make this work so much it hurts, but I just can’t
Keep on giving, go on living with the way things are
So I’m gonna walk away
And it’s up to you to say how far

There’s a chance I could change my mind
But I won’t, not till you decide
What you want, what you need
Do you even care if I stay or leave
Oh, what’s it gonna be

[Chorus]

Out of this chair, or just across the room
Halfway down the block or halfway to the moon

How far do I have to go to make you understand
I wanna make this work so much it hurts, but I just can’t
Keep on giving, go on living with the way things are
So I’m gonna walk away
And it’s up to you to say
YeahI’m gonna walk away
And it’s up to you to say how far

by Martina McBride

I’m the Problem

by Midnight Demon, posted in chronic physical pain, depression, suicidality, suicide, suicide attempt survivor

I’m the problem

A few days ago, I got a comment on one of my blogs saying that my therapist isn’t the problem, I am. I was bullshit because how could I be the problem when my therapist was the one freaking out over my suicidality. Then I read my blog that was commented on. The commenter missed the point I was trying to get across and was blaming me for my problems because I wasn’t seeing things “her” way. I was “choosing” to stay depressed and suicidal rather than getting my shit together and moving forward. If only it was that easy.

It got me pretty upset. I have been trying to get a hold of my therapist to get her input. I know she is NOT going to blame me for my problems. The whole point of this blog might be kind of stupid but I can’t sleep and it is on my mind. And I know that I won’t be able to sleep until I get the thoughts out.

The fact of the matter is that I have a therapist that freaks out whenever I bring up my suicidal tendencies or thoughts about death. I find it isolating because I can’t talk about these feelings with her. How can I when she becomes so tense and flips out? I feel that therapy should be a place that you can talk about anything in the world that is bothering you. But suicidal thoughts are so taboo that it is difficult to engage in that kind of talk. I have been through this with my therapist for the past 10 years and it is always the same. She starts talking about things that have nothing to do with my suicidality and I am left feeling alone and helpless. So how am I the problem when I can’t talk about how I feel when I know it will be falling on deaf ears?

This commenter also brought out that I am irresponsible, “choosing” to spend my money on coffee and music rather than my bills, which is totally untrue. I can’t make ends meet because I am on limited income and have more bills than I can pay. So some months I buy coffee and my country music because I think I earned that right. I don’t skip a bill payment because I pay for it. It just means that I can’t get to eat out or pay for groceries. I think I am responsible enough to know what to pay for and what is frivolous. I have 5 bills I am responsible for every month and I pay them even though it leaves me with little left over for things like coffee and music. And I shouldn’t have to explain to the internet what I spend my money on. This commenter just has an assumption that is wrong, all because she thinks she is an expert in financial matters.

I use my coffee spending as a reward and my one joy in life. If that is too much for you Ms. Expert, go suck an egg. I am not going to stop spending a miniscule amount of money for coffee just because you think I am being a big spender. I wish I had the money to be a big spender but I don’t. I am on a fixed income every month and have to make do with what I have. I don’t work anymore because I have chronic pain and mental illness that requires at least two hospitalizations a year. But then, if you think that this is all bullshit, try a day in my shoes. I am sure you will topple over the first hour.

My suicidality makes me a “difficult” patient. No therapist wants to see their client die by suicide. No therapist wants to see their client hurting so bad they want to hurt themselves. It is a challenge to the mental health field. I have worked hard on this blog to tell my story and hope that it helps someone. After your bogus comments, I was questioning whether to continue. But fuck you and the horse you rode in on. I am not going to stop blogging because of your ignorance and high almighty attitude. People need to know what it is like living like this, and living through it, though it is difficult, extremely difficult at times. If you can’t understand it, stop reading my blog and go bother someone else.

somehow, someway

by Midnight Demon, posted in bipolar, blogging, depression, mood disorders

I started writing this blog in the early morning hours but then I fell asleep and deleted what I wrote. Again, I am in pain from my back. I tried massaging the area and that caused me more pain so I know that it is muscular in nature, which is good. I just have to ease these muscles so they don’t tense up on me. I planned on calling my physiatrist to get his input on whether increasing the baclofen will be beneficial or not. Otherwise, I am stuck taking Ativan to calm down the spasms. I cannot be upright, standing, for more than 5 minutes without intense spasms in my back. It’s hard to walk or do anything with this intensity. I have to be better by Friday because I will be carting my father around the hospital for his surgery date. That will be hard to do with a bad back!

I texted my therapist because I was/am having a hard time with all of this. I am not suicidal but staying cooped up is driving me crazy. And I have to go to Walgreens to pick up my BP med. That is one of the last medications I needed refilled. Now I just got to save my money until I run out of the pink pill so I can waste $25 on that. I tried this new prescription service. You pay $14/month and they have your meds on a tier that is HIGHER than what I am currently paying. My pink pill costs $172 for a 30 day supply. There is no way I can afford that with my disability. That is like paying for everything and still have nothing to show for it.

The thing with McAfee has been resolved, thank god. My money was restored to me, in full, today. I am glad I didn’t have to wait 5 business days. I would have been stressed out and worried about fees and such. But I think I am okay right now.

I hope my therapist doesn’t give me a lecture about my back like everybody seems to be doing. They all think I should go to the doctor but the docs aren’t really going to do anything for me because it is all muscle pain. I am not having urinary or bowel problems. I don’t have weakness in my legs. I don’t have new numbness anywhere in the saddle area. I am “good”. I just have to give the muscles some time to heal and I will be fine. Unfortunately, this takes a long time and it is already driving me crazy because I want to go out and write but I can’t walk from here to there without spasms. It’s annoying me! I hate being incapacitated.

My writing friend wrote me an email today with the subject line “Our birthday month”. I could care less. I hate this month with a passion and I really don’t like my birthday. I rather be under a rock than celebrate it. It just depresses me. And what is the point of getting a year older? I never wanted to be older. I wanted to die young and that was thwarted. So now I am a cranky, old bastard. Don’t get me wrong, I still have my chance of killing myself one day, and sadly, that keeps me going. Because if I didn’t have that, I think I would kill myself right now, somehow, someway.