Tag: suicidality

Transgender part 2

by Midnight Demon, posted in suicide attempt survivor, transgender

Coming out as transgender II

The original draft of this document is password protected. As most of you know, I very rarely do so. But this time, it is a work in progress and is for the benefit of something I am working on in therapy. I hope that you will respect my privacy in this matter.

As I was writing this piece of work today, I cried. It brought out such strong emotions recapping all that I have been through with my sexuality and being in the wrong body. I didn’t know it was going to hit me so hard. I thought I had dealt with these feelings but apparently I didn’t. Or maybe it was just tears that needed to be let out again because I had held them in for so long.

I have been battling my menses this week because it is the off week that I must do so. Maybe that has me a little more sensitive than I really should be? Coming out as being transgendered has not been easy. Yet, so far, the people who have read my book doesn’t seem to care that I am so. The people who read my blog doesn’t care. One blogger has stated that he thought I was a male all along. I had no clue that I present myself as such. My therapist sees it. But how I view myself is much different than she could ever see.

I am not a cross dresser transgender. I truly believe that I am a male trapped in a female body. And I hate it. I hate myself for not speaking up sooner about it. Now I feel like it is too late to take the steps forward to be a male. It gets me severely depressed. Even more depressing is when someone uses my real name or the wrong pronoun. That really sets off a suicidal trigger in me I didn’t know I had.

Today has been a day that I wish I could hang my head in shame. But instead, I spent most of the day with my niece, babysitting her. She mostly watched TV while I worked on my blogs. And played my Facebook game. I took her to my cousin who is a hairdresser to have her hair cut. That took so long. But I got to know someone from Australia. It was really cool talking to him. I now forget what part of Australia he is from.

Being transgender is not something that I choose to be anymore than a chair is a chair. I am in the wrong body. Plain and simple. I don’t want to be a buff male, just one that has body and facial hair that goes with my gender. Sure I have often wondered if this was all in my head, that all I needed was reverse psychology and I would like being a female but there has been no indication that is going to happen. I have spent all my life being who I am. I think with my male brain. I have male mannerisms. I grow facial hair (though it is not complete). I also wondered if it was because of the hormone disruption that caused me to be a male and not a female. That if I didn’t have that X chromosome, I would have been ok. I will never know. I just know what I feel inside doesn’t match the outside. And it hurts in ways you cannot possibly know.

ramble 072

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

Ramble 072

I had my therapy session today. She was overwhelmed with the amount of letters I had written to her while I was in the hospital. We talked a lot about what transpired in the hospital while she was on vacation. I don’t remember if the letters contain what my stay was about, chances are they will give more detail than I can remember.

After my appointment, like my routine goes, I went to Starbucks and actually did write up the short story I wrote while in the hospital. I was hoping to add to it while typing it out but no such luck. I just have a little over 500 words. I don’t even think you can call it an essay.

I forgot how I wrote the short story piece. It was very personal and yet depressing, leaving me feeling like I was boxing myself in on purpose. But it wasn’t clear why I was doing so. Sure, I gave a few reasons but it still wasn’t clear what it was that was causing the pressure to build up, fueling the suicidal feelings and depression that went with it. I know that if I answer this question, I might be able to write a longer piece to place it in my short story book. I am not going to publish it as a blog because I want some part of my book not to be blog entries. Right now, ALL of my second book are blog entries. I know, real original.

I didn’t walk too much today than my normal route to and from Starbucks. I did have to stand a bit while waiting for the bus that was late. It didn’t come till almost 20 minutes later. That is a long time for me to be standing. Luckily, I bumped into a former co-worker and we chatted while we waited for our respective buses. But I guess standing for that length of time, my leg is hurting me. And I still had the block and half walk home from the bus stop. My foot and ankle are swollen like I have been on them all day and they hurt. I just hope it doesn’t keep me up at night like last night and the night before last. I have been waking up in the wee hours of the morning in pain. Last night I waited out my night time meds and I was still up till three in the morning. Luckily, my niece came to my room around 9 to say her good-bye to me. She is leaving for college today and will be now spending time in her dorm. She is not far, she still will be in Boston just not at home so often. I still haven’t wrapped my head around it. I miss her terribly already and she has only been gone since this morning.

I am feeling depressed today but I have forced myself out of the house today and I felt a little better. I was able to get a seat at Starbucks, one with a table for two rather than the large common table to write. I was sitting on the bench side but had to move to the chair because the cushion was like a water bed. Every time someone moved, you moved with it. It was making me seasick. I am glad I forced myself to get out of the house. I wasn’t sure if I would be able to do it after my therapy appointment because I was down and tired afterwards. Therapy can be draining at times. Though today it wasn’t that bad because I was just getting caught up of what was going on while I was in the hospital. She too frowned at the thought of the case manager (CM) trying to stop me from being a suicidologist. In fact, with me writing another blog for the AAS, I am sure she (the CM) would be having a fit right now. But I am free from her clutches. She just doesn’t understand suicide the way I do. She thinks it is triggering. But really it is not, if you see things in a clinical type of way. And I mostly read professional articles on suicide, not so much people’s blogs about how they attempted to kill themselves or that they are going to kill themselves. I know my blog is about that. But it is my blog and I will write what I WANT. No one is going to tell me what I can or can’t write when it comes to my personal experiences on suicide. I struggle too much with the thoughts to give a damn what people think and if it is too much for them, then go find another blog to read. There are many out there that has nothing to do with suicidal thinking or chronic pain or struggles with being a transgendered person.

In fact, I am struggling right now with the TG issue because I had to stop my birth control pill to have a mense. I was getting too many days of discharge and it had to be done. Supposedly, I am only supposed to go three months on and one week off then continue. I can go for up to four or five months without having to have a break. And I am hating it because I have to wear female clothing and feminine products. Not to mention the bleeding that messes with your mind. But no one understands this except another FTM (female to male) person. I really need to find another transgendered person to talk to about this because it really does a number on me mentally. I know they exist somewhere. So if another blogger knows of one, please comment so I can get to know you, if you are comfortable doing so.

They say not to use the word “demons”

by Midnight Demon, posted in bipolar, chronic physical pain, depression

They say not to use the word “demons”

In recent news about suicide, attempt survivors are asking that the word “demons” not be used and that the real “thing” be used. I forgot the term as it was many days ago and I don’t have that much of an attention span that I used to have. It got me thinking about my blog as the word “demons” is used.

I don’t really care what these people say, I am still going to have my blog and though I don’t talk about the “demons” in my blog, I mostly talk about how I feel, which is often suicidal. These suicidal tendencies often come out in the middle of the night, when I can’t sleep, and when I am in pain. I would write some horrible stuff and get a lot of people concerned.

Tonight the “demons” are out. I am hating everyone that has kept me alive the past few weeks. Though I could kill myself now. It doesn’t make a difference with the time frame. I am in excruciating pain and just want to end things. I am so tired of fighting pain. It used to be just psychological that the fight was about. Now, it is both physical and psychological and I am sorry but I can’t keep fighting both. It is too hard. I know that I will feel better in the morning, when I get a few hours of sleep. But right now I could write an email to my psychiatrist and tell her how much I hate her for keeping me alive. I could text my therapist with the same hate. But instead of doing that, I am just going to blog until I fall asleep.

What makes my life so special that I can’t commit suicide? Robin Williams was special. He did the deed. So do a lot of people, every year. They say that 39,000 people will take their life in a year in the US. And the number of attempts are in the hundreds of thousands. Or maybe it is a hundred thousand. We just won’t know because it is so underreported. Many people survive their attempt and often don’t seek medical attention afterward. It is so hard to kill the human body. It boggles my mind when I hear of homicide, though. Seems like that should be higher than suicide but it is not (and please correct me if I am wrong).

But aside from the global effect of Williams’ death, I still feel like it is my turn to die. I really don’t want to live knowing I am going to be in pain the rest of my life. It’s too much of a burden to think about. But I am lucky that all I need are a few pain pills to ease my pain. It doesn’t get rid of the pain entirely, but just enough that it takes the suicidal feelings away. I just took these meds but it takes a half hour or more to work. Chronic pain is a big risk factor for suicide. I know because I live with it every day. My treaters know that. That is why I am hating them at this moment. My foot is throbbing up a storm. I don’t know if it has to do with the weather change. My body can’t tolerate huge gaps of temperature changes. But I have no control over that and I am not about to move to another state. Yes, moving to California might help my pain but it will be isolating because I have a few friends there and most of my family are here. Isolation and being suicidal do not mix. That is why I stay at home. It is a preventative factor for my suicidal brain.

I don’t know why I am up at 3 in the morning. I woke up in pain and still my pain meds have not kicked in. The “demons” are still around me, wanting me to try and take my life. But that will involve getting out of my cozy bed and I am too tired and in too much pain to do so. I guess you can say I am too lazy to take my life. So I write about it instead. I won’t write about the methods that have been swirling around my brain. But one of them include the method Williams chose. He is a brave person. It takes a lot to kill yourself. I am not giving him praise, the media has already done that. But I am happy for him. People in the hospital didn’t understand that. And maybe you might not either. I am happy for him because HE is no longer suffering. HE succeeded where I am a failure. His suffering has ended while mine is still going on.

He died as a complication of depression. I like that term. “Complications of depression” yes, I like that term very much. But I doubt it will be used for my death. The throbbing has escalated. My foot is now on fire. And there is no extinguisher in the world that can put out the fire. So I take another pill. I hope that I am sleeping soon.

Perfectly made coffee, AHHHH

by Midnight Demon, posted in depression, mood disorders

Perfectly made coffee

Today I am at Starbucks again. I am only out of the house because I have an appt with my pdoc. Tomorrow I get to rest, if I am able to. I just plan on staying in and playing my game, to try and catch up on the missions. This is the third day in a row that I have been out of the house. And I am glad because the new guy at Starbucks made my coffee perfectly. I am in coffee heaven. Today’s coffee is from Hawaii called Ka’u. It’s delicious. And reading the cup, I realized why I didn’t get a half cup of it. I goofed and ordered a tall instead of a grande. OOPS. I still was able to make it a venti by putting cream in it. And a lot of ice.

I have been taking my blood pressure since I am on a new medication for that. And I still have high blood pressure. I am not sure what my PCP is going to do other than tell me to restrict salt and lose weight. The weight part is a given and unfortunately, while I was in the hospital, I gained a few pounds. Boredom will do that to anyone, especially when there is food around. My favorite thing to make was graham cracker cereal. I just broke up some graham crackers and poured milk on them. It was good. I plan on buying some crackers next week and making it at home.

I am nervous about meeting him though. I know I will have to tell him I just got discharged from the hospital, hence why I was on the BP med. I am just afraid that he will be giving me a two week supply of my pain meds to “test” me. That is, making sure that I am not going to overdose on them. He still doesn’t get that I don’t want to go out that way. I have more creative ways to die. I doubt I will be able to lose the pounds I gained in a week, unless I starve myself, which I don’t think is a good idea. I can cut down on my eating but then I get really hungry and if I go to sleep, I dream about food. Trouble is my mother hasn’t gone shopping because one of the main chains we go to is on strike. It’s so stupid. Two brothers are battling over the store chain. One brother fired the other, the good one, and thus, the strike ensued. The other grocery stores are too expensive for my mother (me too, but I shop there for convenience).

I finally solved the mystery of how people have been getting my blog email. I have it in one of my blog comments. Doh. It was curious because I have not given out my blog email to ANYONE so when I started getting a few emails, I was suspicious. But I totally forgot I had left my email in one of my blog comments for attempt survivors to contact me if they needed to talk. Now I got to figure out which blog it is so I can edit it so I don’t get spam.

I haven’t told my writing partner that I am planning on writing a coping book for attempt survivors. I think it will be a good use of my time. Though I have no idea how to write this thing. I am going to have to ask her for some help. I will have to bullet point some of it and I am not sure how the format is going to be once I do. I had problems with this with italics for my book.

I also have begun the process of editing a few of my blogs for my next book. It is a laborious task. I just edited one blog and though I was expecting it to be longer, it only took me a few minutes. 700 words are not that difficult to edit. I don’t have my list with me to edit the others. But I know I have to make this blog longer. I might add the pink pill part 2 blog to it so that it is one blog, or at least one story. If I had a brain today, I would have brought with me the legal pad that has the “Brick Wall” that I wrote while I was in the hospital. I could have typed that up while I am waiting for time to pass. I am such a shithead. Oh well, something to do when I get home today. I am including that story in the new book.

I just finished reading another CES (cauda equina syndrome) story in my CESSG mail. It is so sad that doctors don’t recognize the symptoms of CES right away. This poor guy waited a month before being seen by a neuro surgeon. Now he has permanent nerve damage. I feel horrified every time I hear a story like this.

Meeting with my pdoc went well. I was also nervous about it, which I am sure didn’t help my blood pressure. We talked about all that went on in the hospital. Told her about the anxiety attack that lead to a new bp med. I just took my bp and it is still high. I am worrying about this and I know I shouldn’t because it doesn’t help but I am. I told her how the case manager wanted me to stop my suicide research and stuff and my psychiatrist just shook her head. She knows how much the research means to me. It doesn’t trigger me like the CM thinks. I just want to die to end my pain and suffering, something that no one seems to understand other than my therapist and psychiatrist. I was asked point blank why I wanted to kill myself by this moron (CM). She just couldn’t understand why I wanted to end my life and I just shook my head like really? The past few weeks you have no clue? Everything that could possibly happen to me, happened to me while I was in the hospital. If I wasn’t in the hospital when it happened, I know I would have tried to kill myself. It’s just stupid and the hardest part was that I couldn’t educate these people in treating suicidal patients. They had their own ideas on how best to go about it (all wrong in my opinion as the re-admits will show). I really hope that I don’t get admitted again there. I really hated it because nothing was done to address my issues. They just were put aside every day and nothing was really done to actually help me deal or cope. That was left to the group leader or to the staff. It’s just mind boggling to me. The one place that you are supposed to get help, you don’t get it. Or you just get spurts of it. Just ridiculous!