Nervous

Nervous

My idiot therapist wanted me to send my pdoc the blog I wrote yesterday (Dreary Day). Well I sent it to her forgetting that I wasn’t taking my meds. Now I know my pdoc is going to be mad at me because I didn’t tell her first. I am in so much trouble and this was the last thing I needed right now. She is probably going to recommend a psych admission and I am not going to be for it. There is a holiday coming up so there is no way I am going in to do nothing for four days. I can do that at home. Plus I am out of my pain meds. God this sucks. I am running low on my anti psychotic and I am out of my pain meds until Monday when I see my PCP. I feel like I am going crazy.

I took some extra meds to sleep because my toes are on fire and hurt really bad. I took a couple of Neurontin pills and a couple of Ativan. I should be asleep but this nervousness is keeping me awake. I just put some gel on my toes to quiet them down some or I am not getting any sleep until the wee hours of the morning.

I am such an idiot. I don’t know why I sent her that blog. I would have been enough with what I said about thinking of killing myself every day and not caring. I didn’t have to send her the blog. Maybe she didn’t read the blog and I am ok. But my stats show there has been activity on the blog so someone has been reading it. I wish I could track down who reads it, like the location or something but I am not good at that stuff. Gel seems to be working on my toes. Soon as it dries, I am going to sleep. It is going to be a rough few days without taking any pain meds. I hope I can survive. I have never run out before. I do have my really strong meds if I need them. But I don’t want to take it for my “moderate” pain. I will if it gets to be to much. I just hate being in pain and I know this is going to drive up my suicidality.
Bozo, though I have fired her multiple times today, still thinks she is my therapist. She doesn’t want to leave me the hell alone. I would tell my Pdoc off but I am too afraid that she will send the police after me if I do. Bozo has threatened but never has done so. As much as I feel suicidal, I still feel ok to go about my business as usual. No one but my therapist and now my pdoc knows I am suicidal. I like it that way. It gives me freedom to plan my death. I really don’t know what I will do. I thought of OD’g but that is messy. There are so many ways to die but it is so hard to kill the human body. I know, I have tried several times and failed. I am a suicide attempt survivor, what ever that means. It is a relatively new term. I have been using it as a hashtag on twitter when I try and promote my book. I want to die so badly yet I don’t know how and that is frustrating me. I feel like I did when I was a kid and couldn’t figure out how to die. It is so maddening. I have an arsenal of meds at my disposal. Anyone can really do me some harm but I don’t want to do it in my house.

I guess I will talk to the fired therapist tomorrow and see what she has to say about the pdoc knowing about my stupid plan of stretching out my anti-psychotic med. She is not going to be happy with me and I don’t blame her. I just hope she doesn’t section me. Section means that a mental health professional involuntarily hospitalizes you for up to 72 hours at a mental health facility for evaluation. My evaluation would be delayed because of the stupid holiday and I won’t have privileges like to use my headphones or charge my phone. And that will suck. I don’t want to go to the hospital to be babysat. I can be fine at home. I just won’t go out so that I am not tempted to jump in front of moving vehicles or trains. I can be safe with my meds because I don’t want my niece to find me or my mother.

It is so difficult to explain to someone all this. You want the help but at the same time you know that it is useless. It is just so tiring. OMG I don’t believe the baseball game. 16-9. It’s like a football score! Dear holy crist! Thank god I wasn’t watching it. I just kept getting score updates. And I was cursing with every run the Cubs made. Bad time to be a Red Sox fan. They are drowning like I am. But no one sees it. No one sees the struggle I go through every day. Just to take a shower is a hassle. I have to be next to no pain for me to stand 10 mins in the shower. Then quickly dry off and maybe take a nap afterwards because it wore me out. Lately this hasn’t happened but I do get tired and more pain during the day after I push myself. No one understands chronic pain except another person with chronic pain. They know that you have to have rest days in between or you are fucked. That was why I was tied up for three weeks. I couldn’t have a rest day in between and I kept going. I paid for it dearly but not being able to bear weight on my leg for almost three days. It got so bad I thought I would have to go to the ER. But then I remembered I had strong pain pills and that helped greatly. It helped me rest and re-coop.

I fired my therapist today, several times

It is really hot today and the humidity is killing me, making me really irritable. I only left my room for the usual items: coffee, food, and bathroom. I did manage to go to the bank to make a withdrawal. I am going to ask my Brother in law for some cash because I need my meds. And this month I am short. It’s my own fault because I thought I wouldn’t need groceries. I can never keep it to the minimum of what I need.

Sallie Mae keeps calling me every three hours now. I am going to answer the next time they call and make them look like a fool. If they ask what can I pay them, I will say $10/month. Screw them. I can barely buy groceries and they want $132+ dollars a month? Fuck them.

I talked to my therapist even though I fired her. I wasn’t in a talking mood. She did the SSF to see where I was. I was so out of it I don’t remembered what I answered. Doesn’t matter now. My sister is home so I can’t kill myself even if I really wanted to. There is no way I am killing myself with the potential of my little niece finding me. So I am stuck here, again. And I am not happy about it.

The only good news to report is that my pain levels have shifted downward. I am not in as much pain as I was. I hope this stays this way for the next week because I am out of my pain meds, again. I don’t know what possessed me to have my doc reduce my number of pills. Course, there was a time when I was hardly taking them. I would have pain flares at least twice a month. Now it’s like almost every week. I know it is just to adjust to the temperature. I get that but why does it have to be so painful?

I started a letter, in a word doc, that I thought I would post as a blog. It was for my therapist and her foolish ways about me wanting to live. Anyways, it got a little more personal than I would like and never published it. I might read it to her tomorrow or might password it so she can open it but she isn’t too tech savvy so I am not sure it is worth doing. I might get more aggravated than helped.

Issues around my body came about today. I told her I was ugly and there is no fixing that. She was trying to tell me otherwise but it was falling on deaf ears. I can tell I really want to talk about this because I keep checking the internet and twitter for the past 1/2 hour. So I will just leave it as I am ugly and my therapist is fired because she thinks otherwise.

Dreary Day

Dreary Day

It might be 90 degrees outside or hotter, but inside there is nothing but gray skies. My therapist talked me out of killing myself for today. But that is only a deterrent. She said I could put if off till tomorrow. I doubt it. I wasn’t in a talkative mood when I was speaking with her. I had just woken up, haven’t had my coffee, and here she is rambling about what my plans are. I told her today would be perfect. No one would be home. Until it was too late. By then I would be dead and wouldn’t care who saw me.

I took some Ativan to get some sleep. It’s already starting to kick in because I am sleepy anyways. I just can’t stay awake. I wish I took something that sedating but I didn’t. I think I am just tired of being in pain all the time. Even as I am typing this, my ankle is roaring its head. I also took some of my pain medication to quiet it down. I should drink some gin to make the drugs work faster but that might be seen as a real suicide attempt and that is not what it is. I promised my therapist I wouldn’t do any self-harming until we talked tomorrow. The nitwit also has me in the books for Thursday. Oh joy, I get to talk to her 4 times this week all at noon, which is not my best state to talk to people.

I tried canceling on her but she refuses to do so. I hate her. I really want a day without therapy this week. I don’t think that is too much to ask for. So what if I am suicidal.

I still have to figure out how I am going to get my abilify for the month. I am skipping this week to make it last longer but eventually, I will need a refill. But I don’t have the money for it. I am so sick of being broke. And I am supposed to meet up with someone this weekend and I hope we don’t go out to eat some place because I am broke. I shouldn’t have bought more books but I did. I found that I can sell them with my signature and people actually want them more than the regular non-signed ones. So if you would like a signed copy of my book, let me know in the comments and we can work out the details.

I don’t know if I really want to die. I know that I don’t want to live. It’s hard living in a lot of physical pain, every day. I have been in pain for three straight weeks now. And it doesn’t matter what I do or don’t do, my foot or ankle flairs up and then I am done for the day. I think it is because I go down the stairs too much during the day and my foot doesn’t like it.

I really want to get to a pool this summer. I just hope I have swimming trunks that fit. I lot a bit of weight and the ones I had last year were too loose. I am sure they are not going to fit me this year because I lost even more weight. We’ll see. If I ever get the energy to actually go to the pool. I hate basking in the sun. I won’t stay very long. And I definitely won’t be there if it is crowded. I can’t stand crowds.

Rotten day

Rotten day

I woke up early this morning, around 7ish. My foot was killing me. So I took some pain pills and some Ativan to get back to sleep. That was plan anyways. It never happened. Every time I would settle in to finally fall asleep for a nap today, the damn phone went off, usually a phone call. So fucking annoying.

I figured if the pain settled down, I would walk down to the public pool down the street and have a dip. That never happened either. By three, I was hurting again and I needed some more pain meds. I tried settling down again but the stupid phone rang, this time my mother called. She wanted to know what I was cooking for supper. I am not making anything for supper. I just want to sleep because I am in pain. Instead of sympathizing, I got the third degree. All questions started with “Why”. I hung up on her. I got really pissed off. Forget about sleeping now!

I have been keeping track of my blog stats today. Someone has taken an interest and been reading a good chunk. I am happy for that. My stats have been sucking almost as much as my book sales. But I know I will have a lot of readers one day and none the next. So goes the blog world.

I had therapy today. It sucked more than rotting onions. I read her the blog I sent her and she got on her high horse with the transgender issues. I was not in the mood to listen to her. I wish I could put her on mute. She still thinks that going forward with my transgender issues is the answer to my problems. What she doesn’t understand is that it is not going to change my bone structure. I still am going to have the bones of a woman so why bother. I just want to die. She kept asking about my suicidality and I kept ignoring her. I had everything planned out for tomorrow morning but no, she insisted we still have a session tomorrow so that plan is off. I am so sick of living. I really have no interest in talking with her. I just feel so damn low. It’s hard to have a conversation with someone that you normally enjoy when you feel this low. She does allow silences now and again.

Today I was thinking of seeing a new therapist, but then I thought I might scare them with my suicidality and said fuck it. I usually get really down in the summer months. If my journals have anything to share it is that. It starts the beginning of July and ends sometime in October. Happens every single year for as long as I can remember. I get hospitalized more too. Last year, I was hospitalized around this time. I wish I could say it was because of the holiday but it’s not. If I wasn’t meeting up with a friend this weekend, I would definitely be in the hospital now.