All I want to do is sleep

All I want to do is sleep

I had a very rough night last night. I was so exhausted, I couldn’t sleep. Then this doctor made a tweet that really made me angry. So we exchanged words last night, well after midnight. I was so pissed, I couldn’t calm down. And my foot wasn’t helping because soon as I would relax, it flared up in pain. I had taken a strong pain pill to see if that helped. It did bring the pain down, made me a little high, and was about to knock me out but I just couldn’t relax enough to sleep.

My sister reminded me that I had to babysit and as the hours passed by, I knew I was going to be fucked for the day. I think I finally did fall asleep around 0330 and then woke up about 5 hours later. I checked my phone to see if I needed to go downstairs and there were no messages so I tried to sleep. I did for an hour or so. I then tried calling my niece to see if she was okay and there was no answer. She doesn’t pick up the phone. It is really annoying. So I went downstairs to check on her to find she wasn’t at home. My older niece told me that she had gone to the park. So that left me to do whatever I wanted to do.

I went back up to my room, with the intention of going back to sleep but my stomach was doing flip flops. Then I got hungry. I made a bagel with cream cheese and then went back to my room. I couldn’t sleep. I was wicked exhausted and still am. A couple of hours went by so I decided to make lunch and then try again to sleep. I was successful this go around. Least until my mother called me to help fix dinner. Her sugar dropped so she needed help. We had asparagus and eggs for supper. I would have had the cauliflower but I was so full off the asparagus I couldn’t eat it.

I finally got a response back from my psychiatrist. She wants me to keep her posted. I might page her tomorrow, just to talk. Part of the reason I couldn’t sleep was because the voices were talking to me the whole fucking time. They were keeping me up with their endless chatter. I wanted to take a trilafon last night but I never got the chance. I was so upset over what that doctor had said that it really agitated me. I was going to blog about it and actually started one but never got done because I was so tired.

I texted my therapist to call me or let me know if there was an appointment available. I haven’t heard anything back. It’s really warm today so I didn’t want to go out in the condition I was in. It would have made me more tired. I am going to take my meds early tonight and hope I sleep until tomorrow morning, like at least after 0400! Pain is still there but it’s getting better. I hope it doesn’t flare up again. My suicidality has increased over the pain the last three days. It wouldn’t be good to have a fourth night of pain.

Severe pain continues

Severe pain continues

I finally was able to sleep around 0230 or so. All the meds I was taking finally knocked me out so I could sleep. I shut my phone off so I wouldn’t be disturbed. I woke up around 1100, which was good. But the pain was still there and now my upper ankle is hurting me like I have been standing on it all night. I know that this pain is nerve pain because it’s more of a throbbing pain like the rest of my ankle and foot.

I needed coffee when I woke up so I made it. I brewed Pike’s coffee, a Starbucks blend. It is strong coffee but not the acid burning kind. I find that it is stronger than the Brazil coffee that I have. I wasn’t hungry so I didn’t make anything. I planned on making hot dogs, which I just had. They were yummy. I bought Fenway Franks which are the best dogs on the planet, to me anyway. I then had a piece of pumpkin pie. I am so full. I think I will have supper later tonight, if I get hungry. I still have the ribs from yesterday to finish off. I plan on making biscuits sometime today but it depends on how my foot is feeling. Taking a shower and making lunch really brought back the pain so I am going to rest for the next few hours.

Sox game is starting. I was going to listen to it but my favorite pitcher is pitching and he has been sucking big time lately. I really think he still has potential to be a great pitcher. I just think something mentally is going on. Maybe the pressure of being in Boston is getting to him. His first outing he pitched a no hitter and he hasn’t pitched well since. So every time he is on the mound people are expecting him to pitch well. Only reason I am not listening to it is that it is painful to hear him pitch badly. Much worse to watch.

I am glad I was able to shower. I feel better, a little bit than I did last night. I emailed my psychiatrist twice last night. I sent her my blog and then a few hours later, I sent her an email exactly telling her what was on my mind. It wasn’t good. Between the voices creeping up and the severe pain, I am suicidal, again. The voices aren’t telling me to harm myself. But they are just encroaching on my space. They want to know everything that I am doing, all the time and why I am doing it. If I pick this coffee over that one, they want to know why. If I take a pill, they want to know why I don’t take two instead. It’s exhausting. I wrote a lot last night. I had started writing at 0130 that day so around 2340 I continued where I left off. I think I wrote until it was well after 0100. I don’t even remember what I wrote. I still fear a hospitalization is coming. I just don’t want to go back because I don’t want to be doped on meds. I can still function, well, as a psychotic person can. I am used to it. I am not scared except when I am paranoid. But that is mostly when I am out and about. It’s really hot today so I am just staying in my room.

I plan on reading more of “Common Struggle”. It’s a good book and it’s hooking me in because he is at the point where he is realizing he has an alcohol and drug problem. I find it amazing when people recover and do something about their illness. He also has been pushing mental health parity in the US Congress. He really wants brain diseases (mental illness) and addiction to be treated the same way as diabetes and cancer. Unfortunately, there is more stigma to fight because people don’t seek help for fear of not being helped or being told to “tough it out” or think positive thoughts. Most often, people seek help and find there are huge waiting lists to see someone. The same is true everywhere. Sometimes even after a suicide attempt, there isn’t a bed available so they stay in the medical ER until a bed becomes available, only to be released a few days later with the “promise” not to try again. No follow up or after care is given, usually. There just isn’t money to follow up. That is why I think it’s a joke that some places are taking on the “Zero suicide” initiative. That is all well and good until someone falls through the cracks and kills himself or herself.

Some Thoughts on a Saturday Evening

Some thoughts on a Saturday evening

I recently found out that a friend of mine on Twitter lost someone by suicide. She had interviewed this person two years ago for her photo thing called “Live Through This” (www.livethroughthis.org). I was sad to hear this because I thought people who were interviewed were somehow free of suicidal thoughts, that they had their life together after their attempt. I never was interviewed because I don’t want the exposure and I didn’t think I had anything positive to contribute because my moods were so bleak. I also was actively suicidal at times. I still think one day I will die by my own hand, that is if some alien parasite doesn’t take it first.

I have been reading over my blogs from 2-3 years ago. The blogs were all about the severe pain I was in with my ankle/foot and how suicidal it was making me. I also wasn’t getting any support from my PCP. He just wanted to “fix” me but really couldn’t. He also was very discriminating towards me because of my weight. There were blogs on the visits where he just wanted me to be more active. How was I going to be more active if I couldn’t walk without severe pain? Even on the last visit he wanted me to go to some program to learn to live with the pain and gain function. I know he doesn’t want me on my pain medication but I really don’t have a choice. It’s either be on this medication or end my life. That is how I see it.

This evening, I have been thinking about suicide. My foot has been aggravating me all day. It didn’t help that I kept on going up and down the stairs or that I fixed my lunch or put away all my groceries. I just don’t want to be in pain anymore. And I am tired of being in this depression that has been going on for months. Despite me being on medication for it, I don’t feel relief. It could be that the grief of my father has clouded my thinking. I just know that I can’t go on living like this. I have the means to end my life. I just don’t know if it will be enough. I don’t want to attempt and fail. That to me will be worse than dying.

I have been trying not to think about this plan that I cooked up months ago. I just am so sad. I have been reading today to distract myself. I was reading “Common Struggle” by PJ Kennedy. He was talking about his addiction to alcohol and pain meds. He was hooked on oxycontin. I was on that drug many years ago. It worked for me but then it made me kind of manic. I was glad to get off it. I am glad I am no longer taking it. It just did a number on me psychologically. My current pain meds don’t affect me that way. They help the pain and make me sleepy at times, but not all the time. If I am already exhausted, sure, I will get sleepy. But if I am already catching my second wind, they will not knock me out. I don’t know why sometimes it does and sometimes it doesn’t. It’s just weird. And it’s the same dose that I take so I really can’t understand it. But getting back to Kennedy, he made me appreciate that I do not have an addiction problem when I could very easily. Addiction runs in my family, but mostly for the illicit kind like cocaine and heroin. I have had one cousin die from a speedball (combo of coke and heroin). They ruled it an accidental death but I learned that a week before he died he was giving away possessions so I think it was more of a suicide.

I often wonder what it would be like to be dead. I just don’t want to be anymore. I am tired of living. In Kennedy’s book, he said that he didn’t have suicidal tendencies because if he did, he would probably be dead. Given the amount of alcohol he consumed and the pain meds, I would say he wouldn’t survive an attempt. I wonder why I am still alive. I know it has been a long while since I last attempted. But even though I have meticulously planned out a suicide plan, I have never gone through with it. My therapist or psychiatrist always seem to pull me away from going ahead with the plan, either with increased sessions or with them telling me how devastated they would be with my loss. I don’t get what they see in me.

I always feel they will be better off without me. They can’t stop me. No one can really. Sure they can hospitalize me but there is always discharge a few days later. And I know the system to get out and in. They know I know this. It’s just a matter of time before I act on my feelings. It may not be today or tomorrow but it will be soon.

Did too much and paying for it

Did too much and paying for it

Nearly every day this week, I have made a trip to Starbucks. And practically every night, I have been paying for it. I usually go every other day because I need a rest day in between. But I didn’t take a rest day because I felt “okay”. Now it’s the end of the week and I am hurting really bad. So bad, that it’s making depressed.

I wish I was seeing my psychiatrist earlier than next Friday. I feel like I am hanging by a thread today. The voices have been non stop since I let them in. They just won’t shut up. I don’t understand it because I haven’t been stressed and we were just having a normal conversation. Nothing stressful or triggering. Now my brain is just firing away and the voices are wicked loud. I am in serious pain and I just can’t quiet them down to think of what I can do to ease it. I have music playing to try and distract me.

I took some pain meds once I got a break. Then I was quizzed on how many I took and why I was taking them. They always want me to take more than what I need, like more is better. More isn’t better. It’s no more effective than taking a handful of Tylenol for a headache. They just want me to hurt myself. I will do it with other drugs but not my pain meds. I don’t want to die like my father, with liver problems due to the Tylenol that is in my pain meds. I am not stupid like the voices think I am.

I haven’t told my therapist about all this. Not much she can do about it anyways. Even if I text her to talk to her, the most she is going to say is for me to page my psych or go to the ER. If I go to the ER, chance are I will be admitted. I don’t want to be admitted so the ER is out. I can be admitted after the 17th when I see my psych and get my pain meds appointment. I really was hoping that I wouldn’t need another admission so soon after my last one. But then, I wasn’t expecting to become psychotic either.

Being in pain is not helping my thoughts. I feel really depressed and it’s feeding the suicide demons. For the first time in two months (?), I am thinking of taking my life again. It’s not serious. It is just in passing, like what if I would take my life? Then I think of the plan that I cooked up a few months ago. I can still go through with it. It could work this time. A more lethal medication. Only question is, do I actually have enough to kill myself. The LD is 10 mg and I am not sure I have it. I have to count the pills and I am scared to because it will just mean one more step closer to killing myself when I want to.

After my father died, I was thinking about getting a life insurance policy. I got a response from the one I applied for online. They want medical documentation for my illnesses. Nope. Not getting it. Chances are they will have this information just to deny me. I will find another policy holder. I thought it would be too easy to get on the first try. I never got life insurance through my work. I did have insurance in case something happened to me while I working. It was something like $100,000 coverage in case of injury or accidental death and it was for something ridiculously small amount of like $6/wk. There were higher amounts but that was the cheapest and in my line of work, the risk of me losing a limb was quite low.

I wanted to get the life insurance just in case something happened to me. Then my family wouldn’t have to scramble like we did for my father with arrangements and such. I do have a pension with my work but I don’t know what happens to it when I die. Maybe I should find out. It most likely will die with me.

Soon as the pain meds kick in, I will take my night meds. I was going to listen to the game but I don’t feel up to it. I will follow it on Twitter or the MLB website until I can’t fight sleep any longer. Or I might just read something so I can feel like I did something productive today. Today just feels wasted. Voices are loud now. They are pissed I am typing and ignoring them. Maybe I will take a trilafon, too.