Tag: psychotherapist

notebook from the past

by Midnight Demon, posted in cauda equina syndrome, CES, Chronic pain, chronic physical pain, depression, mood disorders, physical pain, psychache, suicide, suicide attempt

I am wretched and know not why. I am healthy yet I am ill. There is no diagnostic test to tell where the pain is from yet I want to die from it. I fear that it will kill me. A hundred years ago I’d be locked away in an asylum. This day and age I’m forced to be a functional person with no symptoms of a psychic malady.

Pain that is so bad that nothing can relieve it. Almost as if a pericardial centesis is the only way to drain the pain out but as there is no effusion it will be dry.

This is something that I wrote twelve years ago. I can remember what that pain felt like and wanting to die. It was terrible thing to live through. I talk about the effusion because my heart was aching so much it killed me and I couldn’t breathe.
Quote from Noonday Demon: “if everyone has the capacity for some measure of depression under some circumstances everyone also has the capacity to fight depression to some degree under some circumstances. Often the fight takes the form of seeking out the treatments that will be most effective in battle. It involves making the most of the life you have between your most severe episodes. Some horrendously symptom ridden people are able to achieve real success in life; and some people are utterly destroyed by the mildest forms of the illness”—Andrew Solomon
Merchant of Venice: It wearies me, you say it wearies you but how I caught it. Found it, or came by it, what stuff tis made of, whereof it is born, I am to learn. And such a want-wit sadness makes of me that I have much ado to know myself—Shakespeare

I found these quotes in a journal from 2001. It’s an old notebook of my excerpts from books and other things. I had carried it around with me all this time. Today I was going to write excerpts from Night Falls Fast by Kay Redfield Jamison but I was too tired after I had my lunch. The notebook is worn thin by use. It is probably the only notebook that I still refer to every day. I have my favorite Edgar Allen Poe letter that I copy into every journal that I own. The “I am wretched and know not why” is from there. If you ever read touched with fire, you will understand what it is like living with bipolar disorder and depression and how it relates to creativity. It really is a great book.

Today I am sidelined with pain in my ankle and a migraine that started out this morning. I have been trying to take a nap for the past few hours but I have this restlessness to do something, to write that I can’t quite quell. I chock it up to having coffee today at an early hour. I have been up since about 9 which is my normal time for waking up but I still wanted to sleep more. If you count daylight savings it really was 8 that I woke up at. I have this energy but I don’t know what to do so I went out and now my ankle is thanking me kindly in return by hurting me. I had groceries delivered today, some stuff I forgot from my previous order. I got my steaks that I have been dreaming about for weeks but never bought. I usually don’t crave meat but I haven’t had any other than chicken and fish in quite some time, possibly as far back as the summer!

So to say that I am a little tired is on the money. I also had therapy today that made me think about what I am doing or going to do with my writing for the next few days. I also talked about my writing with my co-conspirator. We have decided to write five days a week so we can have two days off. I am not sure I can do that with my blog as I like writing on it every day but I can take off a day here and there. My next writing assignment that I am contemplating has to do with CES, Cauda Equina Syndrome. I have been meaning to write about it for some time but have backed off due to the embarrassing nature of the content. I still haven’t written much beyond the title of the article. Maybe tomorrow I can write more.

just a bad day

by Midnight Demon, posted in Chronic pain, depression, physical pain, suicide, writing

Today I had a bad day. I can’t describe more than that because I just am so overwhelmed I might start crying again.

I had my therapy session which didn’t go so well. We ended up talking about basically me getting out of therapy which she wasn’t keen on because she knew my result. I have another appointment with her tomorrow to go over weekend planning. I feel like I am in the hospital but on an outpatient basis. I also forgot I got visual therapy tomorrow. I really don’t want to go but its too late to cancel now. I have no idea what is involved and it kind of is scaring me a little. My eye doc says it just some exercises for my muscles as they don’t like to converge when I am reading, or something like that.

I would say today was kind of productive. I got my groceries delivered, vacuumed, and got my hair cut. I ordered some healthy stuff like steamed broccoli and apples to help cut down on my carbs. Least they will be the healthy carbs.

The weather has been awful today. It has been freezing rain to hail and my back has paid the price. I still can move but I don’t know how long that will last. I have tried all the exercises I know to move my hip extensors but they still feel locked. I know once it stops raining, the pain will go away but right now it sucks! My spine aches like no tomorrow and my scar hurts like a bitch. I used to love the rain. Now the rain hates me. Probably because I can no longer walk in it. I used to love walking around my neighborhood getting soaked to the bone. It was so refreshing. Course my mother thought I was going to die of pneumonia each time I went but I didn’t care. I learned the hard way of not staying in wet clothes though. I did one time and got very sick. I never did that again.

Ramblings 31

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

I didn’t do anything today, again. I didn’t go out. But I wrestled with the bed to change the sheets and put clean ones on. For some reason my dryer didn’t pick all the lin off of them so I had to use a lint remover stick to do the job. Three sheets later my bed was free of lint. I don’t know how sheets can be so linty. I was going to vacuum my bedroom floor but that seems to tiring now. I might do it tomorrow as I wait for my grocery delivery. Tomorrow is a busy day. I have the grocery delivery, then therapy and then I got to go in town to meet with my father’s doctors about his cancer. It’s a follow up appointment so hopefully he is ok and that will be the end of it, though I know we will be waiting for at least an hour.

I emailed my last blog post to my therapist, who actually read it before session. We talked a little about it but she was starting to get annoying as she was interpreting things different than I was and I hate that. She doesn’t always LISTEN to me when I talk, which can make sessions very frustrating. She is the only therapist I EVER had that didn’t listen. But she will listen when I tell her I am suicidal but then she goes off and asks if I hear voices, out of the blue. Drives me crazy.

I still feel depressed. I still want to die. It’s a never ending battle. Today I was wicked nauseous for no reason so eating was difficult to say the least. I just sipped ginger ale. I wish I ate like this every day, I would be thin in no time but I know tomorrow I will be better and I will eat like I normally do. Trying to cut calories have been difficult. I have limited my soda intake. I have maybe one a week, minus today where I was drinking to keep from throwing up. I only had two cans.

I told my therapist that I wanted to call her last night because I was having a hard time. But I also said I didn’t because I didn’t want to bother her. She said she would rather know than not know. I guess next time I will page her, but it was silly because I talked to her that morning and then I would be talking with her today. To talk in between would have been stupid, or needy and I didn’t want to be that way. I rather tough it out. I ended up calling a friend of mine and he makes me laugh. We also talked about the Sox season and how the Yankees team is going to be different this year because their veteran staff are on the DL. HAHAHAHA. I was watching an exhibition game the other day and I hardly recognized anyone. Seems like Rivera is on his own. But I respect him, though he is nasty at time at the plate. Pitchers like that you come to respect. Just like I respect Jeter. He is a hard worker and respectful of the game. I think that has gone away in baseball. Very few players have it anymore. Varitek, Wakefield, and Lowell had it but now they are retired. I miss them very much. I do hope that Varitek finds his way back to the Sox organization. I also hope that Martinez doesn’t play the part of a clown now that he is back. Special Assistant to the GM. I don’t know, I can go on about my opinion about the Sox but I will just stop here for now.

shame of living

by Midnight Demon, posted in Chronic pain, chronic physical pain, depression, mood disorders, physical pain, psychache, suicide, suicide attempt

Today I got my bi-monthly journal of the American Association of Suicidology, Suicide and Life Threatening Behavior. My cousin came over and my mother said to him that I like reading that kind of material. I do but on another level, I feel embarrassed. I know I am taking it personally because it is personal. I attempted suicide many times over the years and each time I fail it is not only a failure, but it also is an embarrassment to my ego. I have the scars to show of the self injurious behavior I have had over the years. Again, an embarrassment of my illness. I don’t know why I feel this way. Or maybe shame is another reason I feel embarrassed. I don’t know. But it hurts. It hurts knowing that I failed and I am still here. I don’t know why it does but it hurts like hell. I have not told anyone about the shame that I feel other than my blog and maybe my therapist. There is so much I tell her that I sometimes forget if I tell her about the shame of living. I know people who have attempted don’t like to talk openly to the person in front of them about their story of attempt. I don’t think I can speak openly in front of a crowd of people and tell them I have attempted and failed and now I feel like a complete and utter failure. That I want to try again and succeed just to try to cheat death. But I have people that rely on me to be here and though I sometimes resent them for it and even hate them for it, I still continue living. I don’t enjoy living. It’s a constant struggle for me for one thing to another. It’s more of a hassle living than anything. Between the chronic pain that I feel physically to the chronic pain I feel emotionally, why bother? But I do because I don’t think I can ever again act on my feelings. I lost what is called lethality. And until I get it back, I am still going to be living this so called hell called life.