frustrating psych appointment

Frustrating psych appointment

I met with my psychiatrist this afternoon. We talked about my therapist and we both agreed she is avoiding me for whatever reason. My psych has tried to get in contact with her but they are playing phone tag. I was feeling really down while meeting with my psych and felt hopeless about therapy, the whole process of seeing someone new, etc. I just got annoyed because she kept on wanting me to try different approaches and I knew that once a new therapist found out my suicidal history, I would be referred to someone else, who would refer me to someone else and that is how the game is played. I am done playing the game. So my psych wanted me to text my therapist to call the new therapist that I picked out and see if there can be some way to talk to the new one. After I left her office, I did that. I don’t know how good it will do as my therapist is not in the office until Monday, which is when I wanted to text her, but we’ll see. I am not hopeful about it.

I left the office feeling like I wanted to jump off a bridge. But I am afraid of heights so I doubt that will happen. I don’t think my psychiatrist realizes I only have a few weeks left before I try something. I won’t be meeting with her in Feb. There is no way in hell that is going to happen. I don’t know what kind of excuse I will give but I am not seeing her. I bought my supplies that I needed to try to take my life in a couple of weeks while I was at Walgreens.

I didn’t sleep until after 0530 this morning and then it was only about 4 hours of rest that I got. I needed coffee badly. I caught the next bus going to the Square so I could have my espresso and a frappucino. Getting the frappucino completed my stars dash of 150 stars reward. I now have two free beverages or sandwiches. Sweet. I will probably use it Monday if there isn’t a snow storm. I am really tired. I came home and had a burrito that I bought while waiting for the next bus. My foot is acting up. My mother had me empty the dishwasher and the dishes in the strainer. I didn’t mind as she was cooking and I knew her back was hurting her. She finally realized that she does have shingles so is taking the medication for it. I just hope I don’t catch it.

I’m hoping to pass out soon from my pain meds. I will take some Ativan if I am not out in an hour. I need sleep. I didn’t tell my psychiatrist about my sleeping difficulties last night, though I did feel like paging her around 0430 when I was still up. I didn’t page her as I knew I would be seeing her. I am back to being in a lot of pain, though not as severe as I was last night/ this morning. I have the weekend to crash. I am anxious though. I feel like I am betraying my psychiatrist by not telling her my plans, though she kind of knows them. I was frank with her in the letter I sent her a few weeks ago. I didn’t give her a date, just the month I plan on doing the deed.

My psychiatrist wants me to stay in touch, even though I will see her next week, again. I asked her if she really wanted to see me, and she did, though she playfully said no at first. I wish it was a serious no. I would have felt more relieved.

a little of this, a little of that about chronic pain and suicide

A little of this, a little of that about chronic pain and suicide

I don’t know where my blog is heading anymore. I tend to write more about my chronic pain than of anything else. And why not, it is always there, aching, throbbing away like no tomorrow. I am sick of it. Both my ankle and foot were competing as to who was going to hurt more and my foot won the contest. The three metatarsals (bones in the foot) that always bother me, are feeling like they are being crushed though there is no external pressure being applied whatsoever. I want to cry. I want to cut my ankle off.

I am depressed. Have been all day. I had texted my therapist asking if there was a time next week that would be suitable for us to talk and she responded that it didn’t look good. I am astounded that her schedule is so full. Used to be that we met three times a week. Now I can’t even have one? I am hurt. I just want to tell her forget it. It doesn’t matter to me anymore. I am going to end up killing myself either way so what would a session do? It’s not going to prolong my life. She has no clue what I have been planning mostly because she hasn’t been around. She decided that we needed to meet monthly. Not me. I didn’t have any say in the matter. Now I can’t get a bloody appointment to convince her otherwise. Fuck her and her stupid schedule.

I meet with my psychiatrist tomorrow. We are supposedly going to come up with a “plan” on how to go on without a therapist. Can’t wait to see what she thinks. I am in a terrible mood right now so forgive me if I go off on a suicidal tangent. I am going to tell her that it’s useless. In fact, I don’t know why she is even treating me as I am a hopeless case. There is no point. I have made up my mind and within a few weeks, I will be gone. I hope to be gone anyway. If I had a more lethal means, such as a gun, then I know I would be gone but I don’t have a firearm. Though if I did, I don’t think I could wait a few weeks.

Pain has driven me to this. I couldn’t even bear weight on my foot as I went downstairs to the bathroom. I tried to stay off the bad metatarsals but going up the stairs, that was hard to do. I didn’t want to spend a half hour going up each step one at a time so I painfully went up the stairs like a “normal” person. I just hope this pain is gone by tomorrow because I need to go out. I don’t think cancelling on my psychiatrist is going to fly, even though I think the appointment is hopeless and pointless. She gave me plenty of refills on my meds so I am good for the next month or two. Not that it matters. I don’t even know why I bother to continue to take my meds. I guess if I don’t, I might become more impulsively suicidal. Right now I can wait. Throw in some agonizing despair and that might change. I guess my meds are keeping that from happening. And I know what happens when I don’t take the trileptal regularly. I am off my fucking rocker.

I do have some what adequate pain control, but that isn’t the point of me wanting to kill myself. The fact that I HAVE to take meds to control my pain is the issue. I shouldn’t be in pain. There is nothing physically wrong with my ankle or foot as determined by X-rays and MRIs. Hell, it even looks normal. I don’t get the discoloration you typically see with CRPS. Yet supposedly, this is what I have. It has to be some kind of pain syndrome. I know the pain isn’t in my head. Or maybe it is. I don’t know anymore. I just know that I am in pain and I need pills around the clock to control it. And soon as the dose wears off, I am in agony again until I pop one or two pills. Then the waiting game begins as to how long it will take for the pain to stop. Sometimes, a couple hours after I take my regular pain pills, the pain will intensify. This is all while I sit comfortably in my bed. No stress being made on it. No bear weight on it. No movement, though sometimes I flex my big toe and all hell breaks loose. So then I have to take the strong pain pill because I can’t take the regular pain pill as I just took it. It’s a fun game that I am so tired of playing. Then my bowels are all screwed up from this strong pain pill.

If I was a “normal” person, sure taking a laxative or some other method to go move my bowels would be fine. But not with someone with Cauda Equina Syndrome. Hard stools and a sensitive rectum/anus is bad news. Nerve pain happens when you finally are able to move your hard bowels. It’s so painful, you just wish you would die on the spot. Then sitting is intolerable. Nerve pain goes on any where from one hour to many. And this is not mentioning the trouble of pushing the stools out because your system just doesn’t have the mobility to do so on its own. You feel like you are in labor trying to push a rabbit pellet out. And that is all you push out. Sometimes it is more than that, but I won’t go into details about it. It just hurts, more than your damn foot. It leaves you exhausted like you have done manual labor. You need to rest from all the pushing and the pain. Fun times. NOT.

Random 754

Random 754

I woke up on my back late this morning and it didn’t like it one bit. I usually sleep on one of my sides so I have no idea how I ended up on my back. I didn’t think I was going to be able to go out, my lower back was hurting so bad. But my therapist pissed me off as she said next week doesn’t look good either for an appointment. WTF are you kidding me?? I honestly think she is avoiding me at this point. I got really mad and needed to get out of the house. My mother was diagnosed with shingles and I didn’t want to catch it so I needed to go out.

I gingerly got dressed. A former therapist wanted my book so I popped one in the mailer. I had to mail out my cousin’s book as it was returned to me. I had put the wrong address on the first one I sent out. OOPS. So I went to the post office and then hit my Starbucks for my coffee fix. I also had a sandwich. I wanted to get my haircut so after I finished my drink, I headed over to the barber’s. He is a good guy and we talked about random shit the entire time. I told about my book and he wanted to buy it. I told him I would be back tomorrow with a copy. Neat. Basically a free haircut! He is a cool dude.

I just missed the bus so had to wait twenty minutes for the next one. While I was waiting, there were people that were annoying me. Inside the bus waiting area, two idiots were spraying perfume or cologne and it smelled horrible. I had to go outside. Then there were two more idiots smoking pot. They were passing a joint between them. Lovely. I wish they were away from the bus loading area as I couldn’t stand the smell of it. It’s worse than cigarettes. Technically, they are not supposed to be smoking on MBTA property but of course, there wasn’t a transit officer around. Pissed me off.

I was glad they took a different bus route than mine. My bus finally came and my bladder was thankful. I just made it home before it was ready to say fuck you, you held me long enough. I really did as it was at least more than an hour. I think I am getting an infection because while going my bladder started spasming. It never really does that unless there is an infection. I got to call the doctor’s tomorrow. Fun, Fun Fun.

When I came home, my mother was cooking dinner. I went up to change into my PJs and then she called me down saying it was ready. It was good. She saw that I had a haircut and then she said she could cut my hair. I laughed. There was no way she is cutting my hair. I rather have a professional do it. Gets me out of the house.

I got to take a shower tonight to get the excess hair off my head. I got a good cut. My barber does an excellent job. I need to start reading Dostoevsky tonight. I want to try and finish “Brothers Karamazov” this month. If I read a chapter or two a day, that goal might be accomplished. But I need to stay off Twitter, my laptop, and Facebook to do it. I will definitely be reading the book tomorrow night to avoid the Twitter/Facebook chatter about the inauguration. It’s going to be a shitshow.

I’ve been meme’d

daw

A dear friend of mine on twitter made this meme and I had to share it with you all. It’s a quote from my new book, Darkness Always Wins.

Hope you will get a copy. It’s a really interesting book that I wrote about mental illness, depression, and my psychosis.