Tag: schizoaffective disorder

Reflections of Yesterday’s therapy session

by Midnight Demon, posted in Bipolar Disorder, blogging, chronic physical pain, depression, mood disorders, suicide

Reflections of yesterday’s therapy session

I woke up hangover after all the Neurontin I took last night. I wasn’t surprised as I knew I would be. I needed coffee but I just missed the bus and had to wait an hour for the next one. I goofed off on the laptop and got ready to go out.

The homeless guy I met last week was on the bus. He didn’t appear to acknowledge my presence so I just kept my distance. I got to Starbucks and ordered my espresso with a breakfast sandwich. I had been craving to have their sausage, egg, and cheese. I then played with my phone while I ate before writing in my journal.

I started writing in my journal about yesterday’s session. I’m not sure how our sessions are going to be now that she feels inadequate. The whole thing is making me feel like a jerk. If we do get an “adjunctive” therapist, how will our sessions be? I can’t imagine having two therapists where we talking about the same things in therapy. It’s just going to be draining on me and useless time for me. I don’t understand why she can’t be the “therapist” and work on my fucking issues. She did before. I don’t understand why things have changed. And it’s frustrating me because I have to wait till Tuesday to get these questions answered. Plus the holiday is coming up so I know there is going to be NO ONE to see me until after the holidays, if she is able to find someone.

The whole thing is freaking me out and thinking she doesn’t want to work with me anymore but still wants to be in contact with me no matter what. How is that going to fly? I know in the past while I was seeing a therapist in my hometown we still met with one another. But it was mostly to bitch about how the session went with the other therapist. I don’t want that to be the focus of each session. It will be ridiculous and a waste of my time. As it is, she still wants to know every fucking detail of what goes on with my psych appointments. If she wants to know that badly, maybe she should accompany me to them, for crying out loud. I think that is to waste time on her part so we don’t have to talk about other matters.

I remember a time when before my suicidality clouded everything we did, she used to be able to center me and give me real therapy. We had a good working relationship. And we still had it even though we talked over the phone the majority of the time. Then something happened and she blew of course. Symptoms of my PTSD were listened to but no advice given, same with the anxiety issues that popped up with the pain levels increasing. Seemed that we spent more time talking about my damn pain syndrome than about therapy itself and what would work for me. Each session, we just went with the flow while my suicidality flew out of control. She could barely contain it anymore and I was just going from one death date to another, searching for hope that just wasn’t there anymore. Her love and care for me were enough to save my ass from my self-destructiveness. This is something I have told her time and time again but again it fell on deaf ears. She felt it was enough because she was the therapist and I was the client and that meant we had the unbroken rule that I wasn’t to die by suicide by any means, no matter that my life turned into a whirlwind of pain and despair.

Sometime this year, when I became psychotic after my father’s death, I became disconnected from those around me. I still feel disconnected. It’s not that I don’t know I am loved or cared for. It’s just that I can’t feel these things, only sadness, depression, and misery. The physical pain takes care of the rest. I have tried to feel more connected but I just don’t feel it. It’s hard to empathize and sympathize with those around me. I feel like I am giving people the cold shoulder most of the time and I don’t mean to because that is just not who I am. I have bouts of crying that come out of the blue with no feelings attached to it. It’s strange to feel so much feeling and not know what the fuck they are but tears continue to roll down my face. I know part of it is the grief that I have not felt since my father’s passing. When he died, I shed not one tear for months now. I just am not in touch with my feelings anymore, hence this disconnection I feel.

My therapist thinks it’s because of the psychosis and anti-psychotic med that are causing this to be so. She called it the “negative symptoms of psychosis”. I still have no idea what the hell that means. I could look it up but I really don’t want to know. Funny, I used to know psychotic symptoms like the back of my hand but that was years ago and now I just have forgotten. I haven’t discussed the issue with my psychiatrist because I don’t think it’s worth the time to be discussed. I am not worried about it and frankly don’t care. I rather feel disconnected anyways. It’s safer than having feelings.

Pain O’Clock Arises Again

by Midnight Demon, posted in Bipolar Disorder, blogging, chronic physical pain, depression, mood disorders

Pain O’clock arises again

I spent most of the day in bed. I woke up really early this morning, in pain, so I took some meds to help and went back to sleep. I woke up in time for my therapy appointment. It was tough. She almost sectioned me as she gave me a choice of whether or not she could provide transportation or I could take myself to the ER. I told her I wasn’t going to do anything. Pissed me off. Then I said what are we going to do and she is looking into finding a therapist. I have no idea what the fuck that means. Guess I will find out next week.

After therapy, I had to use the bathroom. My mother made a fucking insulting comment as I walked by. Fucking hate her when she does that. Then I had the left over bacon she made and some cranberry cake. I could have finished off the cake but I wanted to save room for the popcorn shrimp for later.

When I got back to my room, my ankle and toes started their rigmarole. I took my meds and my antipsychotic because I didn’t want to forget again. I am cursing my therapist for making me stop my plan for tomorrow. I thought I would be able to go out to pick up my prescription but I will be too drugged up soon to walk a straight line, much less go back down the stairs and out the door. I will save it for tomorrow. I want to get Reese’s peanut butter cups anyways. I think that is a good reward for not killing yourself.

What was weird about the session is that my therapist didn’t think she could be my therapist anymore. I find this troubling. WTF will I be seeing her for if not for professional reasons? Makes no sense to me. I am all confused. She has it in her mind that someone else would be better if that someone else is face to face. She is going to find that someone. I just hope they take my insurance or I am screwed.

If I feel up to it, I would like to make cranberry muffins tomorrow. It all depends on how my pain levels go the rest of tonight and if I sleep. I can’t believe my pain syndrome has changed to day time hours now. Fuck. It’s just depressing that I am in pain whenever my ankle or toes feel like it. It’s hard to control that kind of pain when there is no rhyme or reason to it. I took some Ativan so my PTSD doesn’t shoot up. Once I get anxious, it’s hard to settle down and nap. I just get restless.

back to normal blogging…

by Midnight Demon, posted in Bipolar Disorder, blogging, chronic physical pain, depression, mood disorders

Back to Normal Blogging…

The blog I wrote earlier today was really difficult for me. I was crying in between paragraphs and had to take breaks because it stirred up so much emotion for me. By the time I was finished, I was mentally and physically exhausted. Then my ankle flared up so there went taking a nap. My feet got cold so I put on my socks. As I was putting them on my bad ankle, the elastic hurt my ankle as it slipped on past it. It was so damn painful I was seeing stars. Then I felt it to calm it down and it was really throbbing. I could feel it pulsating. That never happened before so I took some Ativan thinking it might be the beginning of a spasm.

I was supposed to get my DVD today of “A few good men”. The tracking said it was “delivered” at around 0930 this morning but nothing was in my mailbox. Liars. It didn’t get delivered until this evening with the rest of the mail. If I am still up, I will watch the movie. There is nothing like a good Tom Cruise movie to see when you feel bad. I really wanted to take a shower and should have taken it after I wrote my blog. I had a window before it really started throbbing and I missed it. Now I have to wait till either later tonight when my pain meds kick in or tomorrow. I am leaning for tomorrow. I have a new soap I want to try so I really would like to shower. It’s made for winter dryness by Dove. I hope it helps with the eczema on my face.

I got crappy sleep last night despite taking a crap load of meds. I think my strong pain meds made me restless as I was up every couple of hours. I finally gave up around 0430 and had a PB and J sandwich because I was hungry. That settled me down some and I was able to get back to sleep till around 0930-1000. I made coffee and finished off the cherry pie. Then I figured I might as well have something more than pie so I finished off what was left of the Shepard’s pie. It was so good reheated. It’s one of my favorite comfort foods.

I had bought some popcorn shrimp and I think I will have that tomorrow for lunch. I haven’t had popcorn shrimp in a long time, mostly because I don’t think of buying it when I am in the store. It was expensive but I didn’t care. It’s not something I buy all the time. I usually get fish sticks or filets. They used to sell a bag of filets online but they don’t anymore. I guess you need to get them at the store now. Next time I go to Market basket, I am going to get them. It’s cheaper there than at Stop and Shop.

I got a cranberry muffin recipe online. I might try it once my pain flare up has settled down. I don’t want the cranberries I bought to go to waste. I like baking. If I do it in the morning, I don’t have that many problems but trying to do it in the afternoon is not always good. It all depends on how much I sleep.

Incompetence and needs: A story of transference

by Midnight Demon, posted in Bipolar Disorder, blogging, chronic physical pain, depression, mood disorders, suicide

Incompetence and needs: A story of transference

My therapist read my Thanksgiving Eve blog and was basically horrified to find that she is inadequate for my needs. She wanted me, again, to see another therapist that was local as seeing someone in person on a regular basis might be more helpful to me. I nixed the idea because I don’t want to start over with someone new. She said it would be more as an adjunctive way. I don’t give a fuck, I am not setting out to see a new therapist. Then she brought up the whole CBT therapist idea. Nixed that too.

It got me thinking about what I need from my therapist. Frankly I don’t know. We have been struggling with my suicidality for so long that it just goes on without a resolution. It got me thinking about the CAMS philosophy and frankly, even though my therapist has been collaborative, she really hasn’t been. She acts more like a friend than a therapist at times. It has been driving me crazy since she took up the majority of the session with her guilt talk, whether it was directed towards me or her, I am not sure. She feels like she is failing me. Hence her incompetence.

There is more to solving suicidality than filling out the SSF forms. Again she brought up if she only knew how to get me to “open up” and write the answers she needs on the stupid forms, she will feel better. But that is not how it works. The SSF just provides you with problems that need solving so that you don’t end your life. The therapist and client are to work together to solve these issues so that life becomes more tolerable rather than intolerable, a “life worth living”. I’m never going to reach that stage of treatment because maybe I am too stubborn to give up my suicidality long enough to find a life worth living. I just go about my daily business of drinking coffee, writing this blog, taking care of my family and then dealing with a stupid therapist twice a week that drives me absolutely fucking insane with her idiocy.

Maybe we have been together too long and can’t see the forest for the trees. We are wrapped up in something and our path has gone so far astray that we just can meet anymore eye to eye. Maybe we are too close because my heart was really breaking today while she was droning on and on about seeing another therapist and how she was basically failing me. Yes, she is a pain in the ass. She is an idiot, but who isn’t really? I texted her that tomorrow will be our last session. I seriously doubt she will take me seriously. I don’t even know what no therapy will look like. I don’t want to know but what else can I do? Go on with a therapist that hates me on some level for calling her out?

Usually you bring up stuff and it gets dealt with and then you move on from it somehow, someway. A few years ago, we were at this impasse. The same issues were covered today. They haven’t moved on because they haven’t been dealt with. I know what needs to be done but I am just too much of a chicken shit. And there we have the needs piece again. I could list them and they would have NOTHING to do with the list from Shneidman. But I feel insecure and my therapist, even though she won’t admit it, does too. That was evident today and it was killing me inside. It broke my heart.

I know I have called my therapist a lot of names in this blog today, but I still believe she is right for me because we have a connection. Granted right now, that connection is a little frail but we are still tethered. The last time we talk about this, we went over Shneidman’s needs. He had 20 of them and I think I boiled them down to less than 10 that affected me, because part of his theory was that frustrated needs causes suicidal thinking. A lot has happened to me this year, more than any other year to date. Problem is that we just talk about shit in circles and we just go around and around because we are just on this merry-go-round that doesn’t have a stop.

People go to therapy for different reasons. I have a whole slew of them that are basically being neglected and possibly fueling my suicidality. I could list them but if you read my blog or my tweets every day you can probably figure out what the major ones are. I know my therapist can’t do shit about my physical pain, neither can my psychiatrist. I have trauma history, a death in my family that still hasn’t been quite dealt with, PTSD that I don’t think is managed, etc. just to name a few. I read blogs from fellow friends that suffer the same kinds of things that I struggle with yet they are dealing with differently. One of my blog friends has severe PTSD and has anxiety that tears her apart at times. My anxiety, though not a principle symptom, has becoming more of a problem lately because of my damn pain syndrome. It drives me to suicidal thinking. And there is no cut off valve when that level has been reached. So far I have managed but I still plan and strategize my suicidal plan because it comforts me to know I have a way out. I still don’t know what is going to happen this week. I know I have put off my plan but it’s back on again because, why the hell not if my therapist is pulling away from me, even though she says she is not.

In my head, I think I have spoiled my therapist. I bring her treats and indulge in her fantasy that I won’t kill myself. Maybe we both are trapped in that fantasy because I am still here either way you look at it. I have tried to bring her the reality my death will bring and even tried to say if I die, here is the help you need to find. I once brought her an article about it that she refused to read. She doesn’t think I will kill myself. Maybe that is what is keeping me going but it is also draining me to keep up this front week after week. I want to die very badly, to get away from myself because there are so many things I can’t stand about me. Being in pain every single day and night is also taxing me. Knowing the fact that my pain syndrome has changed course on me hasn’t helped matters. All I can do is what the voices tell me to do at the end of the day. So far I have ignored them, but one of these days, I will give in and things will finally be at peace. For me anyways.