Tag: suicidality

how can I keep myself away from me

by Midnight Demon, posted in Bipolar Disorder, cauda equina syndrome, chronic physical pain, depression, suicide, suicide attempt

How can I keep myself away from me

I tried the not talking approach to my therapist today. I think it works better in person than it does on the phone. I just did not want to talk today at all. She tried to get me to engage with questions and I just shot her down. I kept telling her this is all pointless. Then she went off about how much I mean to her, and on and on with things like that. I just couldn’t hear her. I tuned her out, like I have most of my friends and family lately.

She wanted me to list the reasons why I want to kill myself. I thought about sending her the blog I wrote the other day but I can’t remember which blog it was. Once I write something, I forget it. It’s like mental eraser once I put it in a blog or on paper. So I will make a new list and please don’t think this is a whine list. I am already close to the edge and it won’t take much to push me off.

I don’t want to live anymore because I am not a full human, I am not a man. I will never be accepted by the society I live in, even if I were to get hormones. The people close to me, my family, will never call me a him or he. I will never be an Uncle, though I can’t imagine after almost 21 years, I can be called that. I have gotten so used to “aunty” that it just suits me, even though it isn’t the right gender preference.

I want to end my life because CES sucks. I am tired of being in pain every single day of my life, in some way, shape, or form. I can’t even have a bowel movement without pain, even if the shit is soft, I hurt. It’s all nerve pain so I doubt anything can be done about it. Luckily it goes away but I suffer for at least 15 minutes to a half hour after every movement. I never thought my life would come to this. And peeing myself every day is no help. I thought that shaving my pubic hairs would help but it doesn’t. I still smell if I don’t shower every other day. The worse part is that I don’t even know I am wet. I don’t have normal sensation down there since my second CES diagnosis. I know people can laugh it off but it really sucks for me because unless I use a pad (which is difficult with boxers), I leak. I just don’t realize I am full until afterwards. My urge to go is not that strong.

Dealing with depression and all that comes with it. The mental pain of living every day when you hurt physically and mentally yet you can’t take a narcotic pain med to ease that ache. I have tried. I once took a handful to ease the mental pain and it did nothing, NOTHING, for me. How can you continue to see a psychiatrist or a therapist knowing they cannot ease your pain. I have tried, desperately and in vain, to find something, anything, to ease this psychache. But all I get is talk therapy to address it. I am tired of talking about it. Nothing helps. Writing used to but now I just think I am a whine bag, going on and on about my little complaints on why I want to take my life.

I never will go back to school again. I will never embrace the academia again and that hurts me more than I say. I will never earn enough or save enough to go back to school, unless I hit the lottery but you have to play to win. I don’t even have the extra buck to play. I never will get my degree that I long for. And I feel like I have let my family down because of this. If I never got sick with mental illness, things would have been different. But this damn illness always gets the best of me. I have to go into the hospital at least once a year, sometimes twice because I just can’t handle “life” and need a “vacation”. If I didn’t have yet another breakdown in 2008, I probably would have got my degree by now and I wouldn’t be fucked with my loans. I don’t blame anyone for this. I blame myself for being sick. Living on SSD is not always as it is cracked up to be.

Then we have the employment issue. Will I ever be able to hold a job again? The past two months I have been plagued with hypomanias and psychosis which if I was working, would have been worse and I would be in the hospital again. And this is without a job! How am I supposed to handle work responsibilities when I can’t even handle no responsibilities? With the Long Term Disability still hanging over me, I still cannot get a job even if I wanted to. I really would like to go back to my old job part time. I just want to feel useful again. I don’t feel like I deserve to live because I feel so worthless. And being an author didn’t exactly give me the fame I thought it would. I still fight for every sale, every month. But self-promoting is hard work, harder than I thought it would be. I thought that when my book went on Amazon, it would fly off the shelves, so to speak. Hardly that. I never thought it would reach a best 100 status, that would be impossible and an unreachable goal. But to be in the millionth rank, well, that was not what I was expecting. And then you had to create an author page. I hate the way I look so I neglected for almost a year to put a pic up. I still don’t know what to say in bio so left that blank. All these things you need to do and yet no one tells you. You just learn as you go.

I hate my body image. I hate the way I look. I always have. I really don’t think that is ever going to change. I avoid mirrors like the plague. And no matter what pic or selfie I take, I always look like a moron. I am just not photogenic, but that isn’t what drives me to kill myself. I just hate me, everything about me sucks.

I think I have listed enough reasons why I want to take my life. These are the top ones.

tired of being an outlier

by Midnight Demon, posted in Bipolar Disorder, blogging, depression

I woke up at 0530 today but was able to get back to sleep around 0600. I slept on and off until 1130. I also woke up around three but was able to go right back to sleep. I don’t know why I am having such a hard time sleeping lately. And someone from Indiana keeps calling me at fucking 0815 every single morning. I don’t know that many people in Indiana and I know they don’t have my number. I wish they would stop calling or at least leave a voicemail so I know who the fuck it is.

I need to go to my father’s today to fix his pill box and then I won’t have to go back until Thursday. I have therapy tomorrow that I am not looking forward to. I am going to try and end therapy. I just don’t see the point anymore. I know she is going to be resistant to it but that is her problem, not mine. I am tired of trying to make people happy. It’s going to be tough not having therapy but I think it’s the best course. I just can’t imagine being in therapy while planning on ending my life. It makes no sense. It will be better if I am not in therapy. The less she knows of my plans the better.

I have been trying to think of a way to let my writing partner know I am not going to be here any longer. But even if I do, she knows that I will get through this tough patch. But this isn’t a tough patch that I am going through. I have made a conscious decision to end my life so I don’t have to turn 40 and continue a sad existence. I know this will hurt her. Another loss that she just can’t face. We have been writing to one another for three years now. I am sad that this is coming to an end as she doesn’t know how much she means to me. I wish it was enough to get me to stay but I don’t think there is enough to keep me here. After all the hospitalizations and therapy I have received, I still have thoughts of ending my life. I can’t live with this knowledge that according to all the statistics, I should be dead. I am tired of being an outlier.

Just came back from my father’s. Damn bus was late both ways. Luckily today is a nice warm day. I wore shorts today as it was warm enough. First day in a LONG time that it hit 70 degrees. It has been a long winter. My father didn’t pick up his pills on Friday like I told him to so I had to go get them as he wasn’t feeling well. The walk to and fro nearly killed me. My calf muscles doesn’t want to work for me. They tighten up with each step and it is killing me. I know it is most likely atrophy as I haven’t been walking in so long. Even a short walk, a block or so, will tighten them up. The price I paid for staying in the month of February. I also know it is going to take a while to build up my strength again. I really need to walk a little every day to get the muscles moving again. I also need to build up my endurance level.

Yesterday was National Grilled Cheese Day. I think I will have one or two tonight for my dinner. Just wish I had some tomato soup to go with it. I think I will make an online order so I can order some of the items I am thinking about getting so I don’t forget. I just hope I don’t spend $130 like I did last time. It was a big order but it was all my essentials, no junk food, just stuff that I had really run out of.

late night, wicked tired

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

Late night, wicked tired

Last night, despite being tired, I was unable to sleep till almost 0230 in the morning. I had been up almost 24 hours. Hyde came out but I think I removed the damage he might have caused. Though, I haven’t gone through my Twitter account to see if he left any messages there. From what I remember, I went south, fast and furiously. I was suicidal but had no intent on going through with the thoughts. I was just too tired.

I sent an old blog post about body image to my therapist. I wish I didn’t. OMG she just did not shut up the whole session. I don’t remember what it was about, I just tuned her out. She just kept rattling on and on about Teflon shields. I was getting pissed. Then I called her a bitch, which she thought Jack did. She said I can’t be “hitting him” anymore. WTF does that mean?? I never hit anyone, unless it was my sister and I was pissed off at her, but that was when we were kids. Never in my adult life have I hit someone in anger. Maybe in joking around, but that is all. A slap on the hand or a slight punch on the arm, that sort of thing. But I don’t intentionally go around hitting people, for fuck’s sake. And Jack is not someone I can hit. He is too angry and might kill me. So what the hell she was talking about, I have no fucking clue. She also wanted me to talk back to my mother. Yea, that will happen when hell freezes over.

My mood just turned bleak and if I make one more typing error, I am done with this blog. I am so tired I can’t type. Sure I am fixing them, but the errors are making me angry at myself. No, this blog doesn’t have to be perfect but it drives me crazy to misspell something. But getting back to my mood, I am really down. I am going to either listen to the ball game tonight or watch it. I want to at least try and see if I can get into it. But with this sleep deprivation, I might not last. All ready I want to sleep. I went to my father’s and I was hoping to snooze on the bus but that didn’t happen. I did have coffee today, so that is helping me to keep toothpicks in my eyes.

I have decided that I am just going to eat protein bars today. I have NO energy to cook anything. If my mother makes something tonight, I will eat it. I think she is making pizza as I saw dough thawing on the kitchen counter. That will be good. Last night I overate. I had a cheeseburger and then some stuffed chicken. My stomach couldn’t handle all the food, which is part of the reason I stayed up so late. I felt so sick.

I told my therapist, again, that I am only going to be around for a few more months. She still has not read her goodbye letter because of the anxiety it is causing her. I understand that. I told her she could read my story. Maybe that might be better. As I think I mentioned to Twitter last night, I just am never going to be accepted by society as a male. Hell, not even my own mother can accept that. And that is why things must end. I am not going to live or start another decade living like this, though I really have no idea what “living” really means. My therapist also knows that I have a date though she doesn’t know the specifics and she is not going to. I am not changing my mind this time. I have to do this. I just have to die. I am tired of struggling all the time. I am a man of my word and this is what I have to do.

Last night I wrote my psychiatrist her note. It was exhausting, to say the least. How can you say goodbye to someone you have known for over 20 years. It was the most difficult thing I had to do. I expected it to be longer but I think a page and a half is good enough. I kept telling her to seek help after my death. I hope she does. I also hope my therapist does, too. There are a lot more support networks for clinicians who lose their clients to suicide. I also told my psychiatrist that she isn’t a failure. She tried more than anyone to keep me here. And thinking about leaving her is the hardest thing that I have to do but I need to stay the course with this plan. I don’t want to turn 40. I don’t want to write another book. I just want my ashes to be spread over Chelsea Creek.

Evening Post 1/4/15

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

Evening Blog 1/4/15

Like I planned, I didn’t do anything today but my ankle is killing me as if I did. I just had dinner and lunch. I am stuffed. I had a cheeseburger with avocado and bacon and then some chicken with rice and corn. My mother made beets with oil and vinegar but I didn’t like it too much. I usually like my beets with a creamy dressing, like blue cheese or Caesar.

My mother put garlic in the breadcrumb stuffing she made. Garlic seems to be giving me migraines lately. My head is already killing me. I have so far avoided a nap but might take one if the headache gets worse. Ankle is also getting worse as I am typing this despite taking a pain med for it. Being in pain every day is exhausting.

Had therapy today. It went okay. We talked a lot about different things that are irritating me and about Jack, the alter that is angry. I have been having intense anger moments and I think it is Jack trying to come out. He is a little boy, as far as I can tell, so doesn’t know how to use words. I have to interpret how he is feeling and relate it to what it is he is angry about. Sometimes, I am good at it and other times, I get angry because he is angry. We also talked about my mood dipping and the anhedonia getting worse. I think by the end of the week, I am going to be in the throws of a deep depression. I am talking with my therapist again tomorrow morning. I just hope that I am awake enough. We also talked about meds. I swear she thinks that I don’t take my meds at times. I think that is because I don’t talk about taking them all the time. I also told her the futility of taking them while in distress. I have no idea if these meds are working or not. It’s not like I am getting regular blood tests for levels or anything to prove they are working. It’s just frustrating to put faith in a pill. I do know the abilify works, because I am less psychotic while taking it and I get side effects from it. I am just frustrated taking a handful of meds every night and wonder if it is worth it. It has been a LONG time since I stopped my meds. I won’t be able to stop my medical meds. Those I need to take or my blood pressure will become unstable.

I haven’t discussed this with my psychiatrist. I think the only reason I haven’t been full blown manic is because I am on meds. It just sucks that every few years I have these bouts of being up and down. The last time I remember this happening was in 2002. And it wasn’t pretty. My crashes were terrible and very suicidal. Then I had a very depressing 2005. I came close to ending my life that year. It was probably the only time my psychiatrist asked me, as a favor to her, to go back on my meds. I haven’t been off them since. That was 10 years ago. I still have suicidal depressions but some how I get through them. So if in the next few days, I start writing about my suicidality, that is why. I will have hit another low point in my life. Question is, will it be low enough to warrant a hospitalization? I really am trying my best to stay out of the hospital. I haven’t been in the hospital since August. I am doing what I normally would do when I am in the hospital. Isolate and take my PRNs. But lately, I haven’t really been doing that as I have had the energy to go out and do things like get a latte and write in my journal. I think that has been good for me. It brings me out of the house and deal with life a little better. It might be annoying because the bus isn’t on time, but least I am not cooped up in my room 24/7. Though today I have been in my room a great deal. I have been playing poker. I lose, I win, I lose. When I get bored I leave. I am only playing with 200K chips. That is my limit. Once it is gone, I am done. I have 47 million chips so I think I am good for a little while, as long as I don’t play on the big game tables.