Tag: suicidality

Tough Day

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

Tough Day

I am feeling like a complete loser and failure at the moment. I reluctantly saw my anxious psychiatrist today. She knows I usually get there early but because her front office staff changed, they didn’t page her when I checked in. She got really worried but was happy to see me when I came to her office. We talked, about what I don’t really remember. Just was feeling sorry for myself. I know I told her about how my PCP always gives me a hard time about my weight. She asked if it was critical or not. It’s hard to tell with him because he is so dry. We then started talking about my writing. She told me about a writer’s group in my area. I looked it up and it’s actually in Downtown. I will have to check it out. They have a free writers hour next Wednesday. I hope I remember to go. I was on my phone looking them up so a couple of the links weren’t really working.

I took the train home like I always do. When I got to a stop, a lady with a walker literally forced someone out of the spot for disability. I couldn’t believe how rude she was. Course the guy saw her and didn’t move to offer her the seat, but that was beside the point. I would have hollered back saying you don’t have to be so rude. I have seen people do that before but never in that manner. The bus was late when I got to my stop. It’s always fricken late. Sometimes it doesn’t even show up. And it was a crazy bus driver that had lead on the gas. I hate when buses drive fast. It gives me anxiety.

I mailed my therapist her first packet of letters. I am kind of finding it easy to type so she doesn’t have to struggle to read my handwriting. I have bad handwriting. Sometimes, I can’t even make out what I wrote. So the next packet will be a mix of written and typed letters. Writing to her helps. But it’s detracting me from my own writing.

I have been thinking about opening a new checking account to a bank that is across the street from me. This is so I don’t have to go to the Square for when I have to deposit a check. But I need a bank that will accept foreign currency as direct deposits. I still am having trouble with my royalties being paid to me because my bank rejects it. This is because it is not USD. Citizen’s has a one deposit checking account that supposedly has no fees as long as you deposit at least once a month. But I got to call them to find out about the currency policy. I don’t want to open the new account and then run into the same problem.

I woke up this morning with my ankle killing me. It hasn’t improved as the day went on. I haven’t walked more than I normally have so I don’t know why it’s bothering me. I really want to be more active but my damn ankle makes it impossible. I think the new medicine is working as the tightness around my ankle is less, which hopefully means the swelling of the tendons has gone down some. It’s not completely gone, but it is less. Only thing that sucks with this medicine is that I have to eat with it, which sometimes isn’t ideal. I try to take it with food or after a meal. Otherwise, I just don’t take it. This is an NSAID known to cause stomach bleeding so I don’t want to mess with it.

Left to my Own Devices

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

I am having a late coffee that I hope will keep me up the next few hours. I have been so tired all day that I have been sleeping it away, without medication of any sort! My pain has been minimal but it’s so hot in the house that I rarely leave my room except to eat and use the facilities. Even though I have had coffee, I feel like I can go back to sleep. I haven’t had dinner yet. The coffee is killing whatever hunger pains I may have. So it might be a late dinner tonight. I now have my undivided attention to this blog because I am not expecting my mother to call me. Unless Twitter distracts me…

I decided to type a letter to my therapist today rather than write it. I told her of my day, similar to the first paragraph and also about other things. I had a page written before I knew it. I wish I could write something for my book as fast. I have been going back and forth with editing for my book. I have to enter the edits into the word doc. It’s always a pain because I usually have to use the search button to find the place I am looking for. I have decided the last three blogs are not going into the book. It doesn’t fit with what I am writing, not unless I copy and paste things. I might do that. Then I can go back to writing, least that is what I am hoping. But it doesn’t happen on demand. I think I am better off writing at night because my mood is darker then than during the day. I have three nights before baseball returns. Sox will be on the west coast so the games won’t be until after 2200 east coast time. I hate the west coast games because it just further disrupts my sleeping. I usually can’t sleep right away after the game ends around 0100. And I am up till at least 0300. This is the first time that I am having coffee at like four in the afternoon so I might be up till three anyways.

I miss my therapist, even though it’s only been a week since we last talked. Another week and a half before I talk with her again. I don’t know if she will be in Hawaii the whole time or not. I do hope she has fun, even though she is dreading the trip. I am dreading seeing my pdoc on Friday. I don’t know what kind of mood I will be in. I know I won’t be catching the 10 o’clock bus again. That was too early. I was supposed to catch the 1053 bus but my brain was foggy when I woke up and thought it was the 953 bus I needed to get. There is no 953 bus! I really don’t want to see her. But I am afraid that if I don’t, she will be worried. Hardest thing about being suicidal is trusting a psychiatrist with your thoughts. You always have the fear of being hospitalized against your will once it has been done to you. I have had it happen more than once in my lifetime. I have had more hospitalizations than I can count. In fact, I have lost track of how many I have had. More than 30 by now, at least. It doesn’t make talking about suicide any easier. But my psychiatrist is and has been open to talking about it. She knows me better than anyone. We have worked together for more than twenty years. We have built up a trust that is hard to shake. Most people go through psychiatrists like they were going out of style. I just have had one my whole therapeutic life. Therapists are a different story. I have had more than I care to share. I never thought I would find someone stable in the therapy business. I was seeing on every year for the first 11 years. Now here it is 14 years later and I have the same one. Both of my treaters trust me more than anyone that deals with suicide. I don’t know if it is because they know I won’t go through with my plans or they seem to intervene before it gets too late. I still feel dejected and depressed that I didn’t go through with my plans. If you can’t keep a promise to yourself, what good is making promises? Yet I have also promised these people that if I were in dire straits, I would reach out to them. They also know that I bring myself in when I need to. That has changed because the hospital, for various reasons, is no longer my safe haven it once was. Don’t get me wrong, people need these places for safety. But I used to go there for care that I needed and I no longer get it. It’s just talk for a few minutes and then a few days later, you are out whether you like it or not. I had to fight to stay in last time and it was a real struggle. I also knew that if I was out when I heard about Robin Williams, I would not be talking to you right now. His loss was so devastating to me, as it was to millions of people. But I was in a dark place, darker than I had ever been and if I wasn’t in the hospital, I dread to think what might have happened. Both of my treaters were on vacation at the time so I would be left to my own devices.

I haven’t heard from my writing partner and I have a feeling that those emails are going to be far and in between. She has been posting on various social media so I know she is writing. She has a new book that she just finished before her wedding and is promoting it. I need ways to promote my book because I don’t think it is going to sell very well unless I come up with some good marketing strategies. Problem is, I am not a marketing person! I don’t have the first clue how to sell something. I just hope that Facebook and Twitter works their magic and my book sells. I do belong to some author groups on FB but they mostly advertise romance/erotic novels, which is not my genre. I actually have no idea what my genre is, other than fiction, maybe. But it’s based on my delusions, which is in real life so not sure what category to put my book in.

Suffering going on behind the scenes

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

I finished “Uncle Tom’s Cabin”. It ended sadly, as all slave books do. The hero Tom gets beaten to death by a master that has no regard for the black’s life, or any other life for that matter. The reason I read the book was to learn. I had no idea how cruel another human being was to another race than I did in this book. And it still goes on in other races. The human trafficking is just another example of slavery, though it is being brought to the TV shows, such as Law and Order: SVU and Criminal Minds, more than the news.

My sister just called to remind me that I am to pick up my niece around five. Not looking forward to going out. It is quite warm out. I hope the temp drops a little bit. It’s not humid just very hot. I got the AC on. I had turned it off because my room got chilly but now it’s back to being hot again.

I have yet to finish my editing. I want to get to it sometime this week. I think the reason I haven’t written anything new is because the editing is hanging over me. I wanted to write yesterday but soon as I opened the word doc, my mind blanked out like the page. I hate when that happens.

I’m feeling very angry that I am made to have to live when I don’t want to. It’s been troubling me that I don’t know why I am still here. I should have take my life ages ago, yet I am still here. Makes me think that maybe I am just not “suicidal” enough or something. Maybe I am a coward. Now that I have finished the “Uncle Tom’s Cabin” book earlier than I thought, I really don’t know what to do with myself for the rest of the week. Sure, I have other books to read. But I have no goals, nothing to really look forward to. I no longer work, so that is out. I can’t go for a walk because it will aggravate my foot/ankle. I just feel so melancholy all the time. Meds haven’t helped me, despite taking the vitamin D. I have a lot of time on my hands and it has contributed to me feeling sad and thinking about death. I am tired of being tired. As much as I try to convey this to my doctors and therapist, I don’t think they truly understand my suffering. I think if they did, maybe then they would allow me to die with dignity. I just don’t want to live anymore. Each day is the same. Nothing interests me, nothing brings me joy or happiness, whatever happiness is. I don’t think I have ever been happy. I don’t believe in it. It is too fleeting an emotion. I would like to feel content with my life, but how do you do that when you are in pain every day and think about taking your life because of it? It just makes no sense to me why I should be living this life this way. I didn’t do anything to deserve it, least I don’t think I did. I have not been mean to anyone on purpose, I haven’t killed anyone. The only person I want dead is me. My therapist wants me to live her sake, not mine. I hate her for that.

I have not heard anything back from the NY Times. I am not holding my breath because I know there is a one in a million chance of them reading my email. Or maybe they have and my story is just not good enough. I plan on emailing the AAS to see if they are going to review my book. It has been a month since I have heard from them and still no word. That might be enough to lighten my spirits for a little bit. It’s hard doing this back and forth living/dying thing. Yes, I want to die, but I don’t know how to really do it without hurting a lot of people. So I just continue to go on being. And it hurts so much because I would rather be dead than be in so much pain every day. Trouble is that no one knows the suffering going on behind the scenes.

Saturday Blog 27: Struggle with Suicide and Bereavement of Others

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

Saturday Blog 27: Struggle with Suicide and Bereavement of Others

I will never again go to the Square on a Saturday! I got stranded there because there were no buses to take me home. I waited two hours and Twitter was no help in finding out why or the public transportation system for that matter. I had gotten a text saying severe delays due to traffic but not that there would be no service to the Square. I was so pissed. I hadn’t eaten anything but a bag of chips so was starving when I came home. I was lucky my sister was home and could pick me up. Then I got a migraine that just made things worse. So I am writing this blog a little later than usual because of the migraine.

I watched this video about “Life after Suicide”. It really made me think about the people I would be leaving behind and the affect it would have on my “kids”. It also made me feel grateful that I can talk about my suicidal feelings with my therapist and psychiatrist, openly and honestly. I think that if I kept those feelings to myself, I would probably act on it. It helps to hear my therapist say that she would be devastated if I went through with my thoughts. I don’t know how my psych would feel. Probably the same as I have known her for over twenty years. The thing is, I don’t want to live. I had made a decision with myself when I was young to take my life so I wouldn’t be old. Here it is twenty plus years later and I still struggle with suicide. It’s like it gets bashed around, deeply thought about, planned, and just never happens. I haven’t made a suicide attempt since I was eighteen and then I spent two and half months in a psych unit at the local hospital. I had met a psychiatric resident who believed in me and we worked together for three years. It was the most stable relationship I ever had with a professional, aside from my current therapist. I was still in and out of psych hospitals. When I was first hospitalized, I was damned if I was going to end up like the people around me. I was in a lot of psychological pain that I wanted it to end. Even though that pain has subsided somewhat, I still think about suicide. I now suffer chronic physical pain and it keeps the thoughts swirling around in my head.

In the video, the woman who talks throughout it says that you need to talk about suicide. In London, they have a place called the Maytree where suicidal people can stay for up to five days to deal with their crises. It is run by none other than a suicide attempt survivor. I have no idea if a place like that exists in the US. I know in my town, there is something called a residential place that is similar to what they were talking about. It was so long ago, I forget the criteria for going there. I know you had to be a part of the Department of Mental Health system to go to it. I was so ill then. I didn’t stay at the place. It was run down and dirty looking, nothing like the Maytree. But it was an alternative to the hospital. I don’t know if they exist anymore with budget cuts to the mental health system. They closed so many psych units in the last twenty years. Even the world famous McLean Hospital isn’t what it used to be.

Also in the video, there is a segment with Dr. Rory O’Connor (person that I got the video from) that talks about entrapment and how a suicidal person often feels trapped and feels the need to escape. This is often true. I feel trapped because of the guilt I would place on others by my death. I die and others feel hurt. In the meantime, I am left to deal with my own suffering that no one else can feel. How is that fair? And don’t dare tell me life is unfair. I know that already, I live with it every single day. I pissed and crapped my pants today and didn’t know it so don’t bother telling me that life is unfair. Another misery that I have to deal with and don’t want to. Dealing with the physical pain is one thing; it’s quite another to deal with your bodily functions not working right.

Throughout the video, I thought about my friends David and Melinda, who lost their significant others by suicide. David lost his fiancé almost six months ago. His fiancé was my friend Chris. I had felt guilty about his death because I am so involved with suicide prevention and yet I never reached out to Chris. I never knew the demons he was facing. He was always a stand up guy and looking at him, you never knew he was depressed. He hid it well. We will never know what made him take his life. David has been open about his grief on FB and it has been one of the reasons why I am still here. The grief he feels is so palpable it hurts to watch him go through it. Chris was the first friend of mine to die by suicide. I have had other friends die, but not like this. It is a unique death that no one can understand or make sense out of.