Saturday Blog 28-9-19

Saturday Blog 28-9-19

Finally had the new pumpkin cream cold brew coffee. It is meh. Tastes a bit watered down with pumpkin cream. I ordered a venti and I doubt I am going to drink all of it. Wish the coffee part was stronger. It is my first coffee since coming home from the hospital. I tried having a cold brew at home but the half and half was spoiled so had curled cream at the top. Gross.

I shaved before leaving the house and when I did, I forgot my headphones because I am using a different bag. I brought my laptop to Starbucks to write and maybe be creative. So far nothing is really coming to me so I might just surf the web and social media.

Last night pain had hit and I was again suicidal, though not to the degree I have been in the last few months. So I started thinking of what to talk about with the therapist. I am going to bring a few things about suicide safety planning as well as the paper I wrote about how she can help me. It is three pages plus the Crisis Response Plan. I also thumbed through the 2nd edition of CAMS and found a new page in the initial form. It is called CAMS stabilization plan. I think I will print off that sheet only and if the therapist is interested in the SSF, I will bring it the next session. I might ask her to meet twice a week but I don’t know if that is doable. If it is, I just want it to be a few weeks as I have just been discharged from the hospital. I sent her a couple of scheduled texts that discuss this and I hope she is open to it. I sent her the link to the Stanley/Brown safety plan site. I hope she can go to it and see what I am talking about. There is no plan that I have found yet that has clinician and client sign in an agreement. If she isn’t open to this, I probably won’t bring up my suicidality to her. I just feel like it wouldn’t be worth it if she isn’t open to my ideas on what could help me. Sure I can do it on my own but that hasn’t been working out. Hell, if I could fix myself I would! This needs to be a collaborative effort. I can’t tolerate any less than that.

I have no idea how the psychopharm is going to take my hospitalization. I am going to tell him I want off the Lamictal. I really don’t think it is helping me. We can get off it and if need be, go back on it should the hypomanic stuff comes back, which I don’t think is likely. It is something to monitor though. I will take the odd day that I feel euphoric though. I just hope he is open to me coming off and not going on another mood stabilizer. I have thought about going on Depakote but I really don’t want to go through the blood draws. That was one of the reasons why Lithium sucked so bad, other than the side effects.

Since last night, I have been having severe bladder cramps. I know it is because I am switching alpha blockers again. I had to take another one while in the hospital because the one that my uro prescribed was not in their formulary. I have had increased leakage and less voiding. I haven’t been drinking regularly either so that doesn’t help the bladder issues. If I am full, I am not getting the sensation. I am just in so much fucking pain. I am tempted to send a message to my uro to see what can be done about it until the medicine is back in my system. I took Ativan while in the hospital to quiet the cramps and I could do that now that I am out. I have free rein on my meds so I can take them as I damn well please rather than have a doctor order for when I need it. I just took my night meds which has an Ativan along with my pain meds. I hope that this helps the cramps and pain. I am so sick of hurting. My ankle pain has just decided to kick itself up. I hope this isn’t a long night of pain like last night. I didn’t go to sleep till almost 3 am. I think I read a chapter of Harry Potter and then went to sleep as I couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore. I am reading the 6th book, the Half-Blood Prince. I like and hate this book because we learn about Horcruxes and sucks because Dumbledore dies. I forget who runs the school in the 7th book, but then, Harry wasn’t attending due to chasing down Horcruxes. The 7th is my favorite even though a lot of characters died. I don’t know how JK Rowling could create these beautiful characters and then kill them off. I am sure it affected her, too. I am not sure I could ever create characters and kill them off just to tell a story. But that is just me.

frustrated on so many levels

Frustrated on so many levels

I saw the therapist today. I was really nervous about it because I didn’t have a voice. First part was of her reading all that transpired since I last saw her, which was last Monday. In there, I had mentioned I was suicidal and she asked if I was safe. I hate that fucking word when it comes with being suicidal. I never know if I am truly safe. If it was put in the how likely am I going to act or something, the answer might be a little different. Each time I get the urges, the situation is different so I have different levels of coping with it. It might be some grounding, music, distraction, going through social media and getting support there, or just maybe sitting with whatever I am feeling to get through the moment. I have recently just stared at a wall while letting the feelings hit me, one after the other and I try not to think in those moments, which is hard to do. Some times I can write but lately I seemed to have lost my words (mostly due to being reported on my feelings) that I cannot express myself, not even in my journal. The words are there, I just can’t seem to put them in cohesive sentences. This is the MOST frustrating thing because writing used to be my escape and because of vigilantes, my escape has been hindered.

I left aggravated and angry. I was looking for her to offer something to appease the suicidologist in me but nothing was forthcoming. I don’t know if she was looking for me to have some sort of plan (I have many, some good and some not so good) or what. Her biggest thing was for me to be “safe” whatever that meant. While I was home reflecting on this, I basically realized I have four choices: 1) go to ED of some sort; 2) call my psych, no matter what hour as I most likely will be in real danger at this point; 3) stew with the feelings as mentioned above; 4) act on my feelings/thoughts/urges. I have a straight forward plan so as long as I can walk (presuming physical pain isn’t the driver of the suicidal escape), the plan can be executed with no one much the wiser.

The ONE thing no one understands about suicidality is the need to escape from the pain (physical and mental or either/or in my case). It is also true that if I have an angry row with a family member that has me feeling unworthy, useless, lazy, etc., my thoughts of escape increase because I feelings of being trapped are heighted and I will think of suicide as my only choice in the matter. I honestly have no way of conveying this and having a “treatment” for it. Yes, I can bring up CAMS (my preferred way of dealing with my suicidal feelings) but my therapist doesn’t even know what the fuck it is, and from the sound of it, is not up to the latest suicide prevention stuff. Honestly, I don’t know who is as there is a LOT of information out there.

The therapist also wondering if being that the institution I was at was good for me as I have so much anger at it right now as it got rid of my psych. I think part of this is mostly likely the grief of her not being there and right now I am in the anger stage of that grief. The frustrating fucking thing right now is that because of my voice being fucked up, crying hurts so I am unable to process it with a good cry. Even as I am typing this and letting some tears out my throat is starting to hurt in a big way. I think once I have this cry, I can possibly moved on. My psych is still there for me; she hasn’t left. I just haven’t been able to see her as she doesn’t have a new home yet. I am still her patient because she has said so and I believe her. If anything, I think she fears me leaving her more than I fear her leaving me. If that makes sense.

I am utterly exhausted right now, mentally and physically. My throat is fatigues and hurts from the twenty minutes or so that I spent talking to the therapist. I honestly don’t want to talk to anyone, unless it is in written form, for the rest of the day. The only thing I have eaten today is a donut and a coffee cake. That seems to be the only thing I want today. I may have the last breakfast burrito (if there is one) that is in the freezer later but chances of that happening are low. I might have to make some more tomorrow after my groceries are delivered. It is nice to have some pre-made food that I like that I can zap in the microwave for a few minutes and have a meal.

I don’t have any plans for tonight. I might read Harry Potter or just be on social media. I would like a nap but that has yet to happen. I just seem to lay down and my pain decides to act up. My foot is already acting up with the ceiling fan going. Airwaves are annoying it. I really shouldn’t have listened to the meditation thing the therapist had me listen to. It started off by thinking of the feet and how they feel and such. Both feet were killing me so it was hard to “let go” of the feelings and shit. Then that was the only thing I could focus on. When they moved up to the abdomen I started feeling hypervigilant of someone barging through the door and had to stop it. At least we tried it. I knew it wasn’t going to work as I have done similar shit while inpatient and it is always a trigger for me.

I had written in the notes I wrote for the therapist to update her that I was thinking of getting ginger gummies and just sitting somewhere to eat them. By the time I came home, the plan was set. I figured out the location and all the how, what, when, where, and why. I have the four choices listed above on which one to choose when those urges arise. I will be left to my own devices and the choice really is mine to make. No one can stop me, no one needs to know, and no one will be there when the decision will be made. I am on a precipice. Question is, do I have a hand (figuratively) to hold me back…

I’ve decided that I won’t tell anyone about my suicidal thoughts. Might mention them here but just the thoughts. No one seems to want to hear them anyway.

can’t cope

Can’t cope

I am really struggling right now. It’s 0400 and I still have not slept. I am going on 4 hours sleep after being up for 24 hours. I am hearing voices and there are four of them instead of 1 that I usually hear. There were three last night and now there are four and I feel like I am being ganged up on. I have sent emails to my psych but I don’t think she checks her email on Sundays. I told her I took an extra Invega to try and calm them down. It seems to have worked as right now I am just hearing my regular voice. She is the nice one and doesn’t tell me to kill myself or take a bottle of pills for the fun of it.

I was reading an email my psych had sent to me on Friday after I told her I couldn’t cope with everything. We talked yesterday. I often had to repeat what I said because she couldn’t hear and then my voice would be a little bit better and then go back to a whisper. I sent a text message to the therapist telling her I cannot speak. I told her it was not illness related and I would bring a notepad to communicate. If this was a problem, I told her to let me know or call me. I don’t want to skip another session. I feel like I need to talk to her. It is just that my voice keeps going in and out on me and I can only speak for so long before I get tired and cannot speak at all. Going for 45-50 minutes is going to be a test. Then I have a 60 minute appointment with the psychopharm. That is going to be fun, not! I think I am going to try and write things down on index cards so I can use my voice less. Fuck this sucks!

Tomorrow I need to get a hold of a human in the laryngologist department. I had left a message and I think that I am going to leave a message on the last two numbers to try and make a damn appointment. I don’t care who I see as long as they can give some answers and order speech therapy or whatever they need to do. I really don’t want another camera up my nose but if that has to happen so be it. I have no idea if the ED did record the showing of my throat. The PA had her camera video recording it. They didn’t tell me if this was going to be uploaded to my record or not.

I am so tired and want to sleep. My head just keeps buzzing. I think the extra meds have sort of made the voices quieter but they are still there. I know they have popped up because of all the stress I am under with my health issues. I just want to fucking cry and my throat won’t let me. I feel really shitty and downhearted. I just can’t cope with it. My ankle has been a fuck all day. I haven’t really taken anything for it because I don’t know what to do with it. How do you deal with the feelings like your foot is ready to fold on you. It feels like it is some kind of card or paper ready to be folded in half. And it hurts so much. It stresses me out.

I have decided to try and keep a notepad on me so I can talk with my mother when I go downstairs. In one of the boxes that has my stuff in it, I found some notepads. I think it will be easier than trying to talk only to repeat myself three times or more.

I am proud of myself today. I finished two books, Harry Potter and OOTP and White Fragility. I have eight books left in my challenge for the year. I have the Harry Potter and half blood prince to read and then Deadly Hollows. I thinking of reading a book my friend gave me. It’s about a water sprite. He said that it is cute. He had given me a book that I can’t think of the name right now but it was really good. I really enjoyed it. It was about a bee. I also started to read Neil Gaiman’s Fragile Things which has the short story “How to talk to girls at parties”. It’s supposed to be good as I think they made a play or something based on that story. I have so many books to choose that I am overwhelmed and don’t know which ones to read. There are quite a few books that came out in the last year and this year that I bought, all hardcover. Alex Spiere just came out with a book on the Red Sox. He is a Red Sox reporter. Jerry Remy also came out with a book. I forget the name. I am not sure I want to get it. I am still thinking about it. There is also a book on Luis Tianti (?sp) that came out. He was a great pitcher for the Sox in the 70s. He is still in the organization. He mumbles when he speaks so I have no idea what he is saying. I also went on a Kindle spending spree and got some books on Lincoln’s speeches and writings.

I got a dentist appointment in about six hours. I am not sure if I am going to be able to go. I had wanted to and then get my haircut or if the barber shop is closed, go to Starbucks and maybe write for a bit. I bought a backpack that can hold my laptop. I just won’t connect to wifi (I hope!) I shaved a couple days ago with a single edge razor and somehow took a chunk of skin off my face. I am glad I have the nix stick as it was bleeding pretty good. I have been putting Neosporin on it to try and make it heal faster. I cannot put a bandage on it as I don’t have one small enough for it. Plus, who wants to put a bandage on their face!

I still have not received my medical records from the children’s hospital where I had the traumatic medical procedure done. Been thinking a lot about the abuse at the hand of the abuser when I was little that continued through my teenage years. I think I am going to write about it and then give it the therapist. I think it probably would be good now as I cannot speak it due to my voice being fucked up. I think I will type it up so she doesn’t have to try and read my scribble.

random psych shit and things

Random psych shit and things

I had three hours sleep last night. I didn’t go to bed till 0730, woke up at 0930 and then again at 1030. I had to really get up at that hour because I had to be out of the house by the latest 1105 to catch the bus. Course I go downstairs, hoping to shave and my mother is in the bathroom wanting to wash up. Figures. I tell her I need to wash up and she says she will do so fast. She is never “fast.” I waited for her to get out. By that time it was around 1045 and I just brushed my teeth and got the eye crud out of my eyes by washing them. I couldn’t be bothered with the rest of my face. It would have to wait.

I had time to fiddle after using the bathroom, but not much. I got my clothes on before sitting on my bed. I tried to find a belt I could use for the pair of shorts I found in my drawer. They are a size 38, which after all the weight loss, I fit into again. I didn’t need to buy another pair of shorts as the size 42 is way too big on me. Not eating is not how I wanted to lose the weight but it happened so there isn’t much I can do except to keep it off, which I have and knew I would. I might have gained and lost the same three pounds the past few weeks but then I will drop 8 lbs the following week so I guess it evens out eventually.

I went to Starbucks and had my espresso. I had a new barista. I asked him for soy and all the baristas that I ever had have given me the container or a quart of it. This one pours a tall cup and hands it to me. WTF. I don’t care, I just want my fucking espresso. He was cheap with the ice so I just said fuck it. He looked to be a smartass anyway and I wasn’t in the mood to argue. I totally got my time messed up because around noon, I left for the station. It wasn’t until I was halfway to where I needed to be, I realized my appointment was at 1345. I was more than an hour early. Goddamn it. I went to the lobby of the building and just wrote in my journal. Then I washed out my reuseable cup and went upstairs. The therapist took me early. I was beyond tired by that point and wasn’t too chatty though I did try to have a conversation. The therapist kept on looking at her computer screen and then looked at me so fast I thought she was going to get whiplash. No idea what she was looking at. Somehow she asked me if I was in crisis or something and I said I don’t know, not right now. Could change in 24 hours, which it could. She said that wasn’t reassuring. Then she said “we need to monitor how you are and such.” I am thinking ok. Next thing I know she is telling me she is off next week and she will see me in two weeks. WTF seriously?? She didn’t offer a safety plan or who I was to call if I needed to talk to someone while she was away, nothing! I got pissed off. Because she took me early meant I would be home on time for my psych to call me.

I had just missed the bus when I got back to the Square. I had to wait a half hour for the next one. I just listened to my music. I tried to read Twitter but my eyes couldn’t focus and it was really difficult as the sunglasses I was wearing weren’t prescription. I have either thrown them out or they are somewhere hidden in my room. I won’t know until I try to find something else. Like today I was trying to find the key to my cash box and found my class ring instead. I thought I had lost it for good while I was working in the lab. I could have sworn it was in my lab coat that got thrown away. I am glad I was wrong. That made my day until my psych called me. We talked and then she said she had a question for me, would I be okay to see a psychiatrist they had assigned me. That psychiatrist contacted her and wanted her input before they contacted me. I then asked her ok until she sets up shop somewhere and when that would be. She said sometime in the fall. She then asked if I was okay with meds. I said I have one refill left on all of them so would be set for the next month, month and a half. And if I couldn’t see the guy, I would call her. I told her about the dissociation part of Monday/Tuesday night where I somehow scratched my wrist. There were a few marks. I have no idea what time it was, what it was with, or why I did it. I don’t even remember doing it. She said if it happened again to call her right away. My immediate thought was that could be a while as it took me all day to realize this when I emailed her around 2200 Tuesday night while waiting for the last survey for the study I am in to come through. I was going to sleep afterwards and I did until like 9 or 10 am. My psych said she would call me either tomorrow or Monday to let me know what the new guy said and what his availability is.

After the phone call, my heart dropped. I was completely hurting and heartbroken and angry. I almost had a meltdown but somehow prevented me from uncontrollable sobbing. Fall seems like forever right now even though, technically, it is only a few months away. She didn’t tell me where she would be. I didn’t ask. I was too stunned to know I was actually going to see a new psychiatrist after twenty-six years, least for a little while. She still wants me to keep her posted and stuff. I don’t think that will ever change. I’ve always have, even when she was away on vacation or out of the office or on medical leave. This week has been a blur and today just sucked totally. Once I knew I wasn’t going to fall apart, I made myself a cheeseburger, which my stomach is still not happy about, even though I liked it. It was really good. After I ate, I shaved my head and face. I got rid of the mustache as it was all uneven and hairs were longer in places than others. I looked in the mirror afterwards and I looked like I was 12. I sent the pic to my psych saying I was indeed 12, LOL. My face has slimmed up and with the facial hair gone, you can really see it. Losing around 25 pounds helps. I still can’t believe I lost that much weight in such a short period. My waist shows it though. I am not 100% sure it is the T giving me the loss of weight or the loss of appetite/not eating due to pain, or the combo. We may never know. All I hear is that people gain weight with T. I might be the exception.

Now I just wait for a stranger to call me or his secretary to schedule an appointment. Not sure if my psych is still wanting to keep tabs on me now or if she just wants me to keep her posted on things. I guess I will find out when she calls me.