Tag: suicidality

Suicidal thinking

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

It’s finally a nice day, at least seventy degrees out. It is making it warm in the house. I am watching the Sox game. I had spent the afternoon with my sisters for Mother’s day and then retreated back upstairs. I am still feeling really tired, even though I had a good sleep last night.

I had a rough night. I was in severe pain. It was not unbearable but it was more annoying me than anything because it was the third night in the row that I have had to deal with this pain. I texted my therapist because I was feeling really suicidal about it. I just didn’t want to deal with the pain at all but what choice did I have? I couldn’t chop my foot off as much as I would have liked or downed my pain medication like I was thinking about. I guess I am lucky that my pain medication has Tylenol in it because if it didn’t, I probably wouldn’t care. But I don’t want to lose my liver and die that way. Plus I probably would never be on any pain medication ever again if I did OD on my meds. That is something that I take more serious and I don’t want to lose that ability.

Dealing with my menses have just made dealing with pain that much more intolerable. I just am very grumpy and the slightest thing annoys me. I just can’t seem to tolerate things I used to tolerate, my annoying pain included.

Little things such as my pain can set off suicidal thinking. It is extremely hard to pull back when you are annoyed. I am trying to better identify this and to seek help so that I won’t make an attempt on my life again. In the ideal world, most therapists would like clients to call someone when they are on the brink. But rarely does this happen because of hopelessness. You just think that no one would understand what you are going through. I once texted a crisis line that I was thinking of overdosing on my medication. Instead of dealing with the idea of overdosing, they decided that I should talk to a nurse to see if it was safe to take another dose. HUH??? I have all but given up on calling for help when I need it.

a mixed day

by Midnight Demon, posted in depression

I have had an emotional day. It started off crappy. Therapy sucked. I went out to get a mocha but there were no seats for me to sit at. So I decided to do an errand for my mother and as I was crossing the street, I got hit by a biker. My arm and shoulder are sore but I saved my mocha. I don’t know how it didn’t end up on the ground. But I think I scared the biker more than anything.

I came home to the mail and it got the sweetest letter by one of my CES support members. She sent me some extra money to ship out my book to prominent people. She think I can send it to Michelle Obama and I am going to try and send it. Worse that can happen is that it gets sent back to me. I think I should write a little note with it as to why I am sending it though. That might help! I might send one to Hillary Clinton because she was on the mental health awareness thing today. If she can endorse it, maybe CES and suicide attempts might get recognition. Big hopes there but you never know.

Then a family friend came over tonight and I talked about the book. I was pretty nervous. I never talked about the intimate details about the book in front of anyone before. Sure online, but that is different than face to face. I still am shaking inside because of anxiety. I have been having more of that lately than I care to admit to. It really stinks. She had no problem with me rambling on about what I was writing about and the formatting problems and the struggle with the editor. It was really good to talk about but I couldn’t help feel nervous about it. She is not a stranger to me. We have known each other for years as our mothers are best friends. I just don’t know why I felt so nervous other than being nervous. I never really talked about my book like I did tonight. And this book is like my baby. I told her there will be another book and she can’t wait for it. I told her it will be a little while. Let’s see how this book does!

So my mood has been all over the map today. I know I am going to be sore tomorrow from that biker. Luckily he didn’t get hurt either. I would have felt really bad if he did.

I have therapy tomorrow so I have some stuff to talk about. I think this is the first time all week that I had something to talk about that I am actually looking forward to talking about, if that makes sense. I still don’t want the session but it will cost me if I cancel it. I just don’t know why we got to meet twice a week. I hate it. Maybe I can get her to reduce our sessions. I just feel like meeting on back to back days is getting me into the funk of not wanting to talk. Then I feel like I am wasting her time and mine. Course, I just think I am a waste of time. Call it the imposter syndrome. If she really knew who I was, she wouldn’t want to do therapy with me. Sometimes I just feel like she is humoring me. That she could do so much more with her time if I wasn’t in her schedule. I just hate her and then when I do tell her, she laughs like it is a joke. I know I am being half serious but shouldn’t she take me seriously? Then, I will feel remorseful and “love” her. I feel like I am borderline with these extremes. I really don’t want to talk to her tomorrow. I know I had some good things happen today but this blog can explain everything to her, if she has the time to read it.

still struggling

by Midnight Demon, posted in depression

Still struggling with the depression. I feel like it is strangling me at this point. I still don’t want to go to therapy but my therapist is persistent and talked me into a session tomorrow, our normal time. I had cancelled it but, of course, she kept it open. I just feel like I can’t get a grip on this thing. I just want to do nothing.

I really wanted a cup of coffee today but there was no cream at my sister’s. I was bummed. I could have went to the store to buy it but found reasons not to. I had to take a shower today as I didn’t take one in almost a week. I did, then tripped over the towel I was using and tweaked my back. I have been hurting ever since. Now I really don’t want to do anything. My mother has been bugging me to get eggs. I will tomorrow, or try to. Depends on how I feel tomorrow. Maybe I can get my starbucks coffee and be a little happy about something.

I have been listening to music to try and help my mood. So far the playlist is on all my songs so it has been helpful because there have been songs I haven’t heard in a while. Some of the songs have meaning, others are just upbeat enough to take me out of the misery for a little bit. I keep trying to fight the depression but it’s tough. Seems like whatever I try to do, it backfires on me and I end up feeling 10 times worse.

I got rudely woken up this morning by my doctor’s office. Because I have a UTI, they were calling to see if I improved. I was so mad because I was in such a sound sleep. I didn’t return the call but the nurse was persistent. She called me again. I told her I was fine. Still having spasms but they are less. Hope this course of antibiotics works. I see my PCP Friday so we’ll see. Thank god the leaking has stopped. I was getting worried there for awhile.

I also see my psychiatrist again on Friday. I don’t know why I need to see her again. It’s not like she can do anything for me. She just wants me to ride out this depression and I can’t stand it. I am very frustrated that there is nothing to do when I get like this. The suicidality has subsided a little bit but I still feel like there is a black cloud following me. I just feel so hopeless and why bother with treatment. It just sucks. I really hate feeling like a piece of shit all the time. I wish there was a medication that worked for me.

Don’t Feel Like Talking

by Midnight Demon, posted in depression, suicide attempt

Don’t feel like Talking

I have been reviewing in my mind the last few suicide “mini” attempts that I took over the past several months. I am wondering why I never called for help or called a friend. It wasn’t like I didn’t have a number for a friend I couldn’t call or a helpline or a chat person. I just was constricted into one way of thinking. I needed to escape and that was going to happen. It was my “only” way out. I think I slipped into Mr. Hyde and ran away from help. I couldn’t possibly think that someone would understand the amount of pain that I was in or understand that ending my life was the only way out of the mess that I was in. And it wasn’t truly a “mess”. I just wanted an out that I could count on.

My last attempt was last week. I wrote a blog about it and then fell asleep. While I slept off my drugs, at least three bloggers tried to get in touch with me through various ways. One of them found my personal email, which I am still wondering how in the world they got. I am glad I don’t have my cell phone listed anywhere or it probably would have been traced back to me. But since that happened, I have been scared to write. Scared because I don’t want the police showing up at my door. I have had that happen before and it wasn’t a pretty picture. It was terrible because even though I was in “protective custody” through EMS (the paramedics had already showed up and taken me to the hospital), the police and fire department didn’t know that so broke a window to get into my house. I was freaked out when I heard about this. My family was wicked worried about me. And that was all because I wrote an email to my psychiatrist. My writing has gotten me into trouble. So now I am scared that it will again. I have dissociative episodes. I barely remember sending the blog that night. I don’t even remember what I said, other than taking pills.

I don’t want to stop blogging. It has been a lifeline for me. But I also realize that I need to be more aware of my thoughts and feelings to stop the hurt before I take something lethal. Luckily, I only took a few pills. I didn’t take a bottle. But the question remains, why didn’t I feel like talking to someone before I took them??

I know of suicide prevention. I know of suicide assessments. So why didn’t I use them? I am not beating myself up here. I am just trying to understand what went on inside my head so that I can do something the next time this happens. All that I come up with is that I didn’t want to go to the hospital again. If I paged my psych and told her I wanted to take my life, I don’t think she would let me off the phone unless I had a plan with her to go to the ER. So that option is out. Luckily, through this recent episode, I found a fellow survivor that I can email. I hope that I can email her and talk freely about what I am feeling and what I want to do. That is if I feel like talking. That is the key…talking. To know one’s story. I feel like such a hypocrite because I wrote a book, published it, and then tried to take my life afterwards. Some survivor I am. I am totally unstable and I don’t think I will ever be stable. I told my therapist today, that if I had the chance, I would try again. I am just tired of living. SO DAMNED TIRED. I have nothing keeping me here. My protective factors are minimal. I don’t even know if they exist anymore. I mean, I love my family a little bit but I don’t feel connected to them in anyway. I just feel like I am this stranger that comes out of my room and says hi every now and then. I hardly go out anymore. My life is meaningless.

My therapist is so excited about my book that she doesn’t even want to read my blog anymore. Though my blog readership has hit an all time high lately. I should be proud of that. But I don’t feel it. I don’t feel anything. I am not interested in anything. I got my journal of Suicide and Life threatening behavior today and it didn’t even excite me. One of my favorite suicidologists wrote a paper in it. I should have been all over it but I wasn’t. I had no interest in what the article was about. I am too depressed to care about anything. And I don’t even talk to my therapist anymore. All she wants to talk about it my fricken book. I am done talking about my book. It just depresses me. And I don’t know why. I should be on cloud nine right now but I am not. Maybe I should go back on an anti-depressant. But I am so sensitive to them, they just make me sick. I hate this anhedonia I have been feeling. I hate that worse than the psychache that I have been feeling. I mean, how many times can your heart break and nobody know? Because depression is an invisible illness. No one sees it. No one else feels it. It’s all inside you. And no one feels like talking about it.