Shepard’s Pie and my downfall

Shepard’s Pie and my downfall

I woke up early, around 0630. I was in pain so took my meds. It was too early to get to the butcher shop. I wanted to go before it started snowing. I played on my phone for a bit. Then decided to leave around 0720. I figure I would go to Starbucks and maybe write if I felt inclined. I brought my notebook with me. I had breakfast. I mobile ordered it because I didn’t bring my own mug. It was the first time I forgot. After I ate breakfast, I didn’t feel like writing as nothing was coming to me. It was after 8 so I went to the butcher’s shop. I had to laugh when I found a 2 pound ground beef package for $18. It was not labeled as ground beef though. The label said marinated steak tips. I found a package within my price range and then left to go to the grocery store across the street. My mother wanted eggs so I grabbed three dozen.

I came home and was hurting. I was also tired. I took a nap and had some wild dream. It was snowing when I woke up around 1. I wasn’t hungry. I wanted to make the cheddar biscuits but I was in too much pain. I decided I would just make the Shepard’s Pie. I was kind of disappointed but I didn’t want to push myself. I tried to nap again around 1400 and my foot went berserk. It was raining by this point. I closed the window. I really just wanted to make the pie and have this comfort food. It came out pretty good, though I forgot to put the beef gravy in before topping it with mashed potatoes. Oh well. It still came out good. My mother said it tasted blah and I should have put in onions. I don’t like onions. A friend saw the pic I posted of how it looked and said next time I should try it with creamed corn. I think I am going to. I haven’t had creamed corn in a very long time.

I came up to my room after cleaning up a little. My foot was hurting and I was sleepy again. I laid down and my ankle, foot, and shin muscles went berserk. I cried out in pain. I took the strong pain pill and was feeling really crappy. It was not a hard meal to prepare and make but CRPS doesn’t care. I was hurting too much to go downstairs to get a heat pack for my shin muscles. I have found that helpful to calm them down. I am still hurting but the pain meds are helping. In a little bit I will take my regular pain pills. I am just so done with this day. I took my night meds early because I just didn’t care. Voices have been bothering me most of the day and my psychiatrist doesn’t want to do anything about it. She asked if I wanted to come to the ER but that will just freak me out as there are always too many people and with my paranoia, it just isn’t good. I wouldn’t feel safe being surrounded by strangers. I see her next week and I will ask her to either increase the Invega or take the trilafon as a PRN. I am playing Mary Chapin Carpenter as her voice calms down my agitation. There is just something about her voice that I find so soothing. She is coming out with a new album the end of next month. I bought her single, Heroes and Heroines. It is a good song. She changed record labels again. I think she has had at least 4 different labels over the years that I have noticed. I don’t care as long as she has new music. She is a great writer. I know she hasn’t been nominated for awards or anything lately but I love her just the same.

the hubbub

The hubbub


Not sure if anyone of you remember the TV show (US) ER. The actor that played Dr. Green, Anthony Edwards is one of my favorite actors. When he left the show, I kind of stopped watching it because the story lines stunk. Anyways, today he wrote an article on about his sexual abuse by a pedophile. He wasn’t the only boy affected by this. His best friend was raped by the guy. He wrote about how pedophiles prey on their victims and often use the word “love” as a way of controlling the victims and their emotions.
It hit a deep nerve, something I have never talked about on here before. I was molested by a family member. Other family members knew this one did this. They warned me about them but they seemed like a nice person so I didn’t heed the warning. Even after they were jailed, I was blamed for the abuse because I was warned and that I should have known better. I was 12 when it started and didn’t end till I was 14, when the advances were more advanced (for lack of a better word). They were 12 years older than me. One day we were on their couch, and somehow we ended up on the floor. They pinned me down and I couldn’t break free. Their genitals were over mine. The only way for me to be free was by saying I loved this person and had to kiss them multiple times and to say it over again. I was really scared because they were at least 250 or more pounds and I was a mere 125. When I was free, we just sat on the couch but they sat close to me and they put their arm around me so it would touch my breast. I kept moving their hand but it didn’t matter.

Another time, we were in their pool and the pool’s ladder had injured their genitals but being a pre-pubescent kid, I didn’t know that. I just knew their groin hurt. After the pool, it was the same deal. They would lock their front door as we “watched” TV, careful to put the chain lock on so there wouldn’t be any interruptions. This time, I was messaging the area. I don’t know how they got me to do it but I did. Turns out after a little while I was messaging their privates while they were in their underwear. My hand was not on the underwear part. I refused to see what I was doing as it felt wrong. When I stopped the message, they continued and when I looked over at them, their privates were out in plain view. This asshole then asked me if I wanted that kind of message on me. I said no but had a few breast strokes and kisses, not intimate. I felt sick once I realized what I had done.

Years later when I accused this person of abuse, they denied it and even their partner denied it because they would have seen the “signs”. Yea, right. It all boiled down that the perpetrator loved me and that was why they did what they did, out of love. I was so sick by this. My mother blamed me because I went to the pedophile’s house a lot of the time. I couldn’t help it. It was better than my home life where I had an abusive father, though I would much rather have my father’s abuse over the pedophile’s. I am glad my father was never told what this pedophile did or they might not be alive today or worse, my father might have said that I deserved it in his narcissistic mind because the pedophile wronged him by “destroying his family”. My father would always blame someone else for his wrongdoings. But that is another issue for another day.

With all the sexual abuse accusations coming at high standing men, whether in politics or Hollywood, it has me triggered into remembering my abuse by the various people that abused me. It wasn’t only the pedophile. I don’t feel free to say who the other family member was, I probably will in therapy but not on this media. I was also raped and abused by an ex-girlfriend. Since then, I have not had a relationship, mostly because of my nerve injury but also because I am afraid of flashbacks.

Lots to talk to my therapist on Monday. I know a lot of women and men are coming out with their story of abuse, which they should. It’s important because it gives others the chance to come forward as well. I am not saying it is easy because when I told one of my therapists about an abuser, that abuser slapped me when I was near them as it was a “false” accusation. I have kept quiet about this for a long time and it’s being stirred up. Abusers don’t like confrontation or being exposed. They will deny it to their dying breath. There is no remorse with them. My ex was kind of remorseful when I talked to her about it but she also played it off. We never became friends as it was impossible. I was hurt too much, though she did reach out a few times. She had more problems than I ever had. But Karma will get these bastards, one way or another. I firmly believe that.

ugh another psych admit

Ugh another psych admit

Met with my psych this morning. I should have known it wasn’t going to be a good day when the 747 bus never showed up but my cousin did to give me a ride to the Square. I gave her some sauce and a piece of my cranberry cake. Then she said she wanted me to go in the hospital. From her tone, there was no arguing with her. She didn’t like that I picked a date, again, or the dire emails I sent when my pain caused me to be suicidal, more than usual. I’m just grateful she let me go to my therapist’s office later this afternoon. I told her I wanted his input.

I came home waited for my new laptop screen to be delivered. I was expecting it around 1230. It didn’t come till after 1300, which left little time for a nap. I wasn’t in that much pain but knew I would need some when it got closer to my therapist’s time. Unfortunately, I didn’t bring my bag of all things, which contained a water bottle so I didn’t take my pain meds. I still felt good so thought I would be okay.

I talked with my therapist about what my psych had said. He didn’t see the point in going in except maybe learning a few things, if I went to the unit my psych wants me at. I thought about this as I left his office. I got to the corner of where his block was and the top of my foot felt like it was being smashed with a brick. Fuck! I had no water to take my one pain pill I had. I carefully walked to the station. Went down the stairs and the train was coming, a full one. Nope not standing three stops. I sat down and waited for the next one, which wasn’t too long. It was less crowded and I got a seat. By the time I got to the Square for the bus home, I wanted to cry. The pain intensified. I could have killed myself right then and there. I missed the bus by mere fractions and sat for the next one. I thought I was going to bawl as the bus was in traffic on the ride home. I was hurting so bad and I needed to get my meds at Walgreens. I honestly have no clue how I got home.

I wanted to tell my youngest sister I would be going in the hosp tomorrow but she was surrounded by her family and my middle sister and I didn’t want to bring it up. My brother in law is anti-mental health issues of any kind. I’ll text her later with it.

I did tell my mother, which is a huge step for me as I usually just leave her notes the morning of. We were talking when my psych called me. HAHA she is worried about. She asked how I was and I said not so great as it has been a long day. I then explained that I wanted to go to the unit she recommended and if I end up at the hospital I was in a few months ago, I will sign a 3 day (basically it’s a form forcing the hospital a 72 hour notice to decide if I need to stay (court will be involved), can go home, or will leave against medical advice). If I do go to the hospital and get assigned a different treatment team other than Bonnie and Clyde, I will stay as they may be helpful. There is one doc there I really like working with and he is sincere in trying to help anyway he can, unlike the Bonnie and Clyde couple. Bonnie and Clyde are assholes who after learning I wanted to leave the hospital to kill myself, then asked when I wanted to be discharged. Fuck you too! It was a complete waste of time and I won’t go back to their “treatment”. Plus those assholes put in my medical record that I have gender dysphoria so now all my medical records in this healthcare system know, whereas only my psych knew before. I am still steamed about this but once something is in the records, it cannot be removed without serious documentation and possibly a lawyer. Not worth it. I did bring it up to my psych, who was not happy to learn my PCP read her notes. He is okay with me being trans so I just hope it doesn’t make me a target of any discrimination, now or in the future. I told my therapist today that he will not be getting any releases from my long term disability folks. They do not need to know anything about what I talk to him about. Course they could just read my blog, which would be all they needed to either have me continue with their shit or not. I feel like their stuff is heavier than social security!! Once I get my newer laptop running again (crosses fingers and eyes), I plan on going to the website to see what exactly I am disabled. I am kind of in the dark as to whether or not it’s physical or psych or both. With my long term disability, it’s physical and depression, though how they determined that without my therapist’s notes, I have no clue. Must have gotten them from my psych, but even she didn’t get anything, so who knows. As long as they continue to pay me (the small amount) I am happy.

So tomorrow morning, I will be catching the first bus to the Square to go to the ER, where I hope I’ll be placed in the unit my psych wants me to go to. I am not feeling hopeful about it as we have tried to get on this unit many times and failed. I am very tired. I will be taking my night meds shortly and hopefully go to bed within an hour, if not sooner. I just hope my stupid foot pain doesn’t keep me up all night. I also hope I have access to my phone on this unit or I will not like it. I won’t be able to use the app for my PT. I can’t say that it’s been helping because my scores have been terrible when I am in high pain. Maybe that is a good thing. It will be nice to see if the scores change over time. I told my psych that PT is going to be a long process that won’t happen overnight. Unfortunately, I just don’t have the patience or the hopefulness to stick with it as my depression is so severe. Even my therapist said today I don’t look too hopeful that the hospitalization or anything will help. He is right. I have been let down so many times but usually just the change of environment has helped a little, even if the staff hasn’t been. Sometimes a hospitalization will help me see things differently but that was when I was dealing with mental demons, not pain demons. It is so unpredictable and that is what wears me out. As I was telling my mother tonight, there is no reason for my ankle to hurt doing “normal” movements that it should do. Physically there is nothing wrong with the bones, that I know of. I am still waiting to hear back about the bone scan. The tendons might be inflamed but after all the rest that I have given it the last 5 years, it should have been calmed down by now. If this is truly a nerve injury, I am screwed as there is no treatment and if anything, it should have shown some improvement by now if there was going to be any. The fact that the pain has gotten worse doesn’t help me feel too hopeful about the future. Hence why I get so suicidal in a flare up.

another month of existing

Another month of existing

Despite being suicidal for almost 16 days straight, I lived to tell the tale. I honestly don’t know what gets me through the hardest of moments when I am in so much pain and all I can think about is death. I think fantasizing my death has gotten me through, only because I was so immobilized by pain, I couldn’t act on my thoughts. Then the next day, the pain was down and I didn’t feel so terrible. I didn’t feel like ending my life.

Sometime in the beginning of September or the end of August, I thought that if I had 41 consecutive days of suicidal thoughts, that on day 42 I would end my life. If by some chance, I had a day that I didn’t think those thoughts, I would have to start all over. I kept a spreadsheet of the days. Some nights when I was in pure agony, I would bargain with myself saying just x many days more and then I would end it. I kept these thoughts pretty much to myself. I had texted my therapist this plan but we never talked about it. I don’t remember if I let my psych know either.

I don’t know what really changed that stopped the suicidal feelings from occurring. I still had pain every day and night. But after my PT evaluation, I felt like things could be better. I was sad that the days of me working were truly over because too much time had past for me to recover. I was diagnosed too late with CRPS, Complex Regional Pain Syndrome. Now I just want to be able to make pancakes without having to take breaks in between the prep, the mixing, and the cooking. Small stuff but it would be a goal. I left the PT office feeling a little hopeful that things might change for the better. It didn’t take away my suicidal feelings completely. I still thought about ending my life, but there was no urgency to it. I just put it in the back of my head.

Suicidal thoughts have become so much apart of my life that I can’t imagine my life without it. Will I my life end one day at my own hands? I don’t know. I think so and have felt that way for quite some time. Little things stop me. My nieces or nephew’s love and care. A friend online that needs me. Having a low pain day so I could get out of the house to have my espresso at Starbucks. Being able to shower, make breakfast, and then go out to do what I have to do. It doesn’t happen every day as some days I can barely get out of bed, either because of pain or my mood. Sometimes both. Sometimes a good word from my therapist or psychiatrist is enough to lift the heavy coat to make it through the day. I honestly didn’t think I was going to make it through September without making a suicide attempt. But I did.

Tomorrow starts a new month, with the same challenges. Hell, I have appts all this week with no rest days at all. It’s going to be hard. I hope it doesn’t set me off in a flare for days on end. The weather is also going to be cooler. If it remains stable, I should be okay. If it fluctuates more than 10 or more degrees, I am going to hurt more than any activity that I do. I have a lot of appts this month. I don’t know how that is going to make me feel, physically and mentally. Dealing with chronic pain every day is difficult to say the least. I have mixed feelings about this month. I hope that I survive and I hope that I die. We’ll see if I make it to Oct 31st.

My Thoughts on Zero Suicide as a Person with Lived Experience

My thoughts about Zero Suicide as a person with Lived Experience

There has been a lot of talk on Twitter about Zero Suicide and it’s mission to reduce the suicide rate to zero, because 1 is just too many. At first, I was appalled that clinicians think that is possible. I for one think that it is outrageous because there is always going to be someone who dies by suicide. Maybe not in their organization but outside their organization. But then I learned that it’s not an individual’s practice but an organization or health system that strives to achieve this goal. They have trainings and meeting with those in the suicidology world.

Something kept bugging me about this. I kept quiet because I didn’t want to anger those that are for it, though I think there are a few blogs that I wrote about it before I understood the mission. While talking to a friend that is a suicide loss survivor, the bells went off. She said that it goes against Shneidman’s questions, where do you hurt and how can I help?

I am a big supporter of Dr. David Jobes work with his framework called CAMS (Collaborating, Assessment, and Management of Suicidality). I don’t know if Dr. Jobes trains these Zero Suicide clinicians. And even if they are trained, I am not sure it will be used. Most clinicians have the attitude that their skills on suicide risk are good enough when it could be faulty. Worse, they go through the training yet don’t use what they are taught. That drives me up the wall. Why bother going to a training (unless it’s a mandatory thing) if you aren’t going to take away from it?

I really think CAMS is a tried and true framework to prevent suicide based on my experience of using it in my former therapy. I also used the Suicide Status Form. Unfortunately, my therapist did not want training in CAMS and we drifted apart, thus ending our relationship. We did, while we worked together, use the initial and tracking forms but unfortunately, we never got to the outcome form. She wasn’t committed enough to see it through and that kind of pissed me off. Every time I had a suicidal episode, she just wanted to know one question on the form, The one thing that would help me no longer feel suicidal. It is an open ended statement where the client fills in their thoughts on the matter. Unfortunately, I could never come up with a satisfactory answer as I really didn’t know the reason for my suicidality. I just wanted to die and that was that. I wrote a blog about CAMS if you would like more information about how it is formed and the use of the Suicide Status Form.

I went on the website for Zero Suicide but could not seem to find the specific training that they went through. From what I gathered on Twitter from their live tweets, some of it is CAMS and some of it is using risk factors for suicide. Unfortunately, risk factors alone are not predictive of a suicide attempt. CBT has been useful in reducing suicide attempts but not all clinicians are trained in this modality. The book by Craig Bryan on CBT for preventing suicide attempts is a good book to learn more about it. I also wrote a review on the book that you can see here.
The other thing that gets me is that no where among Zero Suicide is there talk of a person’s psychological pain. There are measures, if you look for it. Dr. Holden at Queen University in Canada has created a scale to measure what Dr. Shneidman calls psychache. See my review on the research article for more information. I think it is a good psychometric to gauge a person’s level of suicidality and pain, which ultimately leads to thoughts of suicide. This must be included in any talk of preventing or intervention of suicide and also postvention, should a suicide attempt occur.

My final thoughts of Zero Suicide is that it is a novel idea but as Dr. Shneidman says, “How many suicides do you want, and I say I don’t want any, but I want there to be the freedom to do it. I study suicide but I am not pro-suicide. I’m for suicide prevention.” I share his sentiments. I do not like the talk of “suicide is not an option”. To me, that is hindering free will. I do hope the rate of suicides goes down, but the way that health care and mental health are going, I think there will be more before it lowers, especially among the chronic pain patient population.