Tag: suicidality

just a person interested in writing stuff

by Midnight Demon, posted in blogging, depression, writing

I am writing earlier than I usually do because I got hit with pain and I am not sure what is going to happen later tonight. I might be too groggy from pain meds to write.

I’m listening to the same 228 song playlist of country music that I have been listening to for the past few months, if not the past year. It helps to listen to the mix because although I have a lot of country music, I also have Daughtry, Goyte, and Train mixed in. Just recently, I added Martina McBride because I miss hearing her voice. She has some really good songs.

I got an email from a friend of mine today. She complimented me on one of my blogs she saw on Linkin. I don’t know what blog it is as I don’t usually put my blogs on that sight. I think it was the Darkness Short Story but I am not sure. I remember “sharing” a post but I just can’t remember which one it is. It frustrates me when I can’t remember. Anyways, I replied asking if she could let me know what blog it was as I have no clue. I also answered a few questions that she had. She wanted to have a meet up and I think that would be fantastic. It has been a few years since I last saw her. I hope we can meet up, but after my book so I can sign copies.

Still no word from the editor. I am becoming more and more anxious as I wait, patiently, for word that she is working on my book. I have been waiting four months so a few more days should cause me fretfulness. I don’t think I can breathe until this project is done. I have tried working on other things to keep my mind off it, but it has been for naught. Even reading has eluded me. I can’t get into the book I am reading and I used to love reading. Or I do read and I find myself “editing”. I never was this way before. I just want this book to be out and then I will deal with the consequences. I know it isn’t going to be in the New York Times best list or even the Boston Globe, and I am not expecting it to. I just want this process to end and to be done with the waiting. I will feel so much better once this person reads it, gives me suggestions/edits so I can load the thing on to the format template and go from there.

Because of March Madness, a local radio station is having a similar “bracket” except instead of basketball, it is the battle of the bands. I foolishly signed up for notifications so I can vote, not realizing they are posting like every fricken fifteen minutes! In every post, they also want you to go to their website to vote there as well so you can win $1000 (USD). I never win anything so I am not signing up. I spent my last two dollars on a scratch ticket hoping I would win something, and I lost.

My writer friend sent me something on suicide attempt studies last night. She thought I might be able to write about it in my blog. But unless I feel strongly about the article, I don’t really write about it. Most of it is just a “DUH” experience for me anyways. But this week’s SPRC (Suicide Prevention Resource Center) had a call for papers. I might enter one of my papers in the journal they are asking for, though my paper is kind of short by about 3,000 words. I don’t know if they will accept it. And I don’t know if you have to be in academia to enter. I don’t hold a faculty position nor am I a researcher at a facility. I am just a person interested in writing stuff. I might try it, just to see if it gets accepted.

write the pain

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

Write the pain.

For those that are frequent blog readers, you know I write about my pain, physical and emotional, most, if not all, the time. It has been the cornerstone of my blog. I can articulate what few can and my readers like what I write because they can relate.

Writing about pain has been a staple of my blog. It seems I cannot write without some measure of pain. It can be the pain associated with depression. It can be the pain associated with the chronic pain condition that I have. It can be a pain that keeps me awake at night. The pain that tears at you and is unrelenting. Whatever type of pain that I have been feeling, it has caused frustration, anguish, despair, suicidal thoughts, and agony. It makes you dread waking up in the morning. It makes you want to sleep forever, to have this escape of no consciousness. It wears you out. And exhausts you. It causes you to be unmotivated. To want to stay in bed and not face the day. But for me, it also has been the stimulus behind so many writings. I write about my darkness that is a short story. I write about the chronic pain and suicide ideation that happens frequently.

Pain has been sadly, the inspiration to write this blog because it causes such dark thoughts, and by dark thoughts I don’t mean just depressive thoughts. I’m talking about suicide ideation. Thoughts that make you think you would be better off dead than to continue living. Dark thoughts of suicide, the ones where you cannot express in normal conversation. Most of my dark thoughts are expressed in this blog because the therapist hours do not occur between 11 PM and 3 AM. It’s hard to find any here to listen between those hours. So I read about the pain. I write and I write till I am succumbed by pain meds or psych meds or exhaustion. I write the pain. Because if I did not have this outlet, the dark thoughts would take over. And I would cease to exist.

Pain is exhausting, be it physical or emotional. And to have both occur at the same time is just torture. When the meds don’t work, when the pain is overwhelming, when all you feel is anguish and misery, that is what causes you to feel like life is not worth living. Writing helps to express what I cannot it sort of makes life more bearable as the father of suicidology has said many times, decreased the psychache (pain), decreased the suicide. I have found writing the pain decreases in my dark thoughts. This doesn’t mean I have found a life worth living. It just means life is more bearable for me.

just so frustrating

by Midnight Demon, posted in blogging, depression, mood disorders, suicide, suicide attempt

I just came home from eating dinner at my cousin’s house. We had a good time. I told him about my book but didn’t say anymore about the content of it. He is one of those people that thinks that if you don’t talk about suicide, it doesn’t exist. He doesn’t know about my attempts for this reason. He doesn’t want to hear about it. He rather hear about how crippling my depression is than hear about how suicidal I have been. It is a barrier so we just don’t talk about it.

I also didn’t talk about my being transgender. He made a comment tonight about how I am his favorite girl or something to that effect. I wanted to correct him but then I figured why bother.

I had an extremely long day that was mostly dealing with my family members. I think the only two members of the family I didn’t have to deal with today were my youngest niece and my brother in law, oh and my nephew. So three. I am exhausted just thinking about it. My morning was filled with going up and down stairs. My ankle is thanking me kindly right now with pain. No matter as I am about to take my night meds and go to bed. I am hoping that I will stay asleep till eight but I doubt it. My track record hasn’t been good and I didn’t get a good night sleep last night. I went to bed after two in the morning and then woke up an hour later. Took some Ativan and only slept for two more hours before I said the hell with it and stayed up. I lost track on how many hours I have been up. Plus I am sick so that doesn’t help me much. If I continue this way, I know I am not going to get rid of this cold.

I had therapy today and my therapist was on her high horse, which pissed me off. I warned her that if she didn’t settle down, I was going to hang up on her. The one advantage of phone sessions. I finally told her about what my AAS blog is going to be about. I didn’t tell her at first because I wasn’t sure if I told her what I did and I was afraid that she would be mad at me or get all worried on me. I don’t know when this post is going to be published but when it is, I will reblog it here. I think it is an important post about chronic pain and suicide.

Tonight while I was over my cousin’s, I was thinking of suicide and how I don’t think much about it these days. I guess because my chronic pain is well controlled and I am not hurting too much these days. But the depression. Man, that is a whole other can of worms!! That is making me wish I was dead so bad. I just don’t want to be alive and there is really no one I can talk to about this. I haven’t been able to tell my therapist because we have been dealing with my family issues lately more than my suicidal thinking, or death wishes. They are more like death wishes than actual suicide thoughts. I am not planning my death or anything. I just wish I was dead. I dread waking up most mornings. I have been having bad dreams. So I can’t even have a restful sleep even if I wanted it. It’s so distressing. I haven’t told my therapist about the dreams. She knows I have been having weird dreams but not every night. She doesn’t know that and I am afraid to tell her because I know she wants to talk about it. I would talk about it but I don’t remember the dreams. I remember the people in my dreams but not what they were doing or anything like that. It is so frustrating. And makes me wish I was dead all the more. I just want to escape. I need a place I can go to without judgment and criticism. Away from my family for a little while. I don’t want to go into the hospital because they aren’t going to do much for me and will most likely make my sleep worse. Plus I am not suicidal so it is not like I need to be in the hospital. I just want to die. I feel like the future is closing in on me where it was expanding on me before. Maybe I don’t have a future. I still believe that I am meant to kill myself. But I don’t have the lethality to actually follow through with it. It’s just so frustrating. I can’t live and yet I can’t die. WTF am I supposed to do. Yet I continue to exist. And I don’t like it.

23 years

by Midnight Demon, posted in depression

As much as I tried to avoid getting sick yesterday, I think another culprit is to blame for me getting sick. There was a lady behind me on the bus that was sneezing and I think I caught her germs. I have been doing nothing but sneezing most of the day today, and I have been up since 0530. I am pissed because I am supposed to babysit tonight and tomorrow. I don’t feel really sick but my head feels like it is going to explode. Sinuses suck when they are clogged.

I finally loaded a profile on my speech to text software last night. I made my first FB post using it. I still like to type so I am typing this blog today. I am hoping to try it out tomorrow when I feel a little better. Right now I am all congested so I don’t think that will be good trying to talk with my voice not being clear.

I have use of my sister’s car today. I am excited but there is no place that I really want to go, except Starbucks but I feel so run down, I don’t want to go out again. I just came home from picking up my lunch: Pizza. I have been dying for a slice for a few days now. I don’t know why I get food cravings. It’s not like I am pregnant, far from it! Just weird I guess.

Last night I couldn’t sleep. I had a lot on my mind from my therapist appointment. She is hung up on the grief factor because of my aunt’s death. But I don’t feel sad. I don’t feel depressed about her death. We were close when I was younger but I don’t have that much new memories in my adult life. We just grew apart, though she would always ask me to come over for coffee whenever she saw me. I never saw her because we had a language barrier. She spoke 90% Italian, but the dialect kind. I always had trouble understanding her because I don’t know Italian much less the dialect kind. She was a good woman. And though she is gone, I am happy she is reunited with her husband, my favorite uncle. I know she was lonely though she didn’t show it often. He was a huge part of her life. And I am sure being without him for sixteen long years must have been tough.

But that is not why I have been having such a hard time lately. See this week marks an anniversary of when I started therapy and when I first wanted to end my life. It has been 23 years since this has happened. I was fifteen. But sometimes it still feels like yesterday. And dealing with my father who has been the chief contributor to my demise that year of the past, just means I was more vulnerable than I would be if I wasn’t dealing with my father. He just makes me want to drink which I guess is better than cutting. That night changed my life in a very profound way. I saw my father for who he truly was and it was an eye opening experience. The pedestal that I put him in came crashing down that night. And I wanted no part of him after that. Because if he could be so cruel that night, who is to say he wouldn’t flip out on us kids. He was very scary that night. I never seen him so mad before. Sure I seen him lose his temper but this was way different. He threatened my cousin and was intent on following that through. I have never seen him so livid. Course after all was said and done, I really needed to escape the craziness so I started cutting to deal with my pain. Not the best coping method but it was the only one available at the time.