Tag: suicidality

Daylight saving time sucks!

by Midnight Demon, posted in Bipolar Disorder, blogging, Chronic pain, chronic physical pain, CRPS, depression, mood disorders

Daylight saving time sucks!

Last night I was just reading. I finished Langford’s Leap by Ted Boone. It was such a good female hero book. I cannot wait for the second book to come out. After I finished that, I read this memoir that I started in December. I might have mentioned it before as a “sugar-coated” book. It is terribly written and I just couldn’t finish it. It was getting me so damn frustrated because of the drops and not explaining then going on to something else. It also used mental health and mental illness like it was interchangeable (sorry, it most definitely is not). The author never went into her symptoms so I find it hard to relate to something when this was similar to what I have been writing for a while now. It was like she was putting it out there and then just left it there. Like she would say she was suicidal or had a suicide attempt where she didn’t care if she did or didn’t die but no background to what lead up to that point, no talk of depression or despair or frustration, nothing. I especially didn’t like where she was talking about mass shootings and there was a KEY word missing in the sentence. I had read it three times and it was just bad. Terrible editing on whoever did it. I just decided to write a review and called it a day.

I then went to Harry Potter and got sucked into the wizard world. Around 0030, I finally put the book down and tried to sleep. It took a few tries to get comfortable and then out of nowhere, my damn right instep was killing me. I took some ibuprofen and Tylenol. I couldn’t figure out why it was hurting so bad. I had only got up once to stretch the whole time I read, and there were at least 3 or 4 hours where I was just on my bed. I finally decided to put some diclofenac gel on and then I realized why I was hurting. The golf ball size swelling had moved up my foot and was very inflamed. I don’t know if while lying down the weight of my other foot set it off or what. I had got up around 0130 and realized that in a half hour, it was going to be 3 am instead of 2 due to the time change. I wasn’t looking forward to that because it was going to throw me off. Next thing I know it is 4 am because I decided to read Harry again to wait for the meds to work their magic. I fell asleep somewhere around 0430.

I woke up a few hours later because my mother got up. She is not quiet and her breathing is very labored. As much as I hate the woman, I care for her wellbeing, though I try not to as she doesn’t listen to me anyway. Her breathing is like she is puffing the air out of her lungs. Her COPD is worse (though she will say her knees are causing it). She doesn’t use her inhalers at all. She had paid for a nebulizer and used it maybe a week or two. Now not using it all. Her breathing was slightly better than it was but now without the medication, she is back to her huffing and puffing. I have to listen to her as she climbs the stairs every night just to make sure she doesn’t collapse. I am hoping that when my sister lives with us, I don’t have to worry so much. I wish she would just move her bedroom into the dining room but nope, she doesn’t want to give it up despite her not using it for anything other than her gatsies (little trinkets and things just used for display). I understand her mother gave her those things, or rather were my grandmother’s things before she died but all it is doing is collecting dust. Today she refused to yield me any fucking space to put my mugs yet wanted them in my room. Fuck, seriously? Seriously. She wouldn’t allow me to keep things even though I would like space to. She is just so fucking selfish when it comes to the house, this is mine and that is mine so you can’t use it. Meanwhile she nearly burnt the crap out of my new kettle because she didn’t put enough water in it for making her coffee. She leaves water in it so the bottom of the thing is starting to rust. That is okay though…because she didn’t buy it. I am ready to buy an electric water kettle just so she doesn’t use mine and can do what ever she wants, which she does anyway. I just get so fucking frustrated because she tells me how to live my life, doesn’t use my changed name, doesn’t respect me in any way, shape, or form. Today she had the gall to say G or my birthname or what ever you are. I got mad and said what am I to you, two different people? Then she spewed that she has been calling me my birthname for 40 years so isn’t going to change. Fuck you too. I don’t know why the fuck I bother. I get so hurt and she doesn’t care. She is so transphobic.

I wanted to change my sheets today but my CRPS foot is giving me grief. It has been snowing and raining most of the day so that is probably why. I ordered take out for the first time in a few months. I wanted a burrito but the place didn’t have drivers so canceled my order. I was disappointed. I ordered a burger from another place. Now both feet are killing me just from going up and downstairs. I fucking hate being in pain all the fucking time. It is the biggest trigger of my suicidal thoughts. I am still thinking of my plan. I don’t know if I will go through with it but it is on the backburner. Tomorrow I am seeing my PCP’s social worker to work on some financial planning and things. I hope that she can maybe speed up the process for therapy as I am really needing to talk to someone about things. I know I have this blog but sometimes actually talking to someone helps unload things. I don’t want to call my friends because I don’t want them to worry or be mad at me. Just sucks that even though the majority of my friends accepts that I have depression, some are not so accepting that I have suicidal thoughts and plans, even if it is just to hear me out. I no longer bring it up with them. I guess it is a “don’t ask, don’t tell” situation, which really bugs me. As many times as I have had trouble with therapists, it is the same. No one wants to truly hear how dark my thoughts are. Makes me feel more alone with each passing day. I know there are people out there that say “you aren’t alone” but when you are chronically suicidal, you really are. I just wish I would go through with it so it will end.

Painsomnia night too many to name

by Midnight Demon, posted in Bipolar Disorder, blogging, Chronic pain, chronic physical pain, CRPS, mood disorders, painsomnia

Writing from phone so might be errors

I was sleeping most of yesterday. I had a difficult night sleeping and really didn’t fall asleep at least till after 730 am.

My med alarm went off. I checked my phone. I had some messages. The social worker I saw the other day sent me an email. I also had a message from some office that I was to return. No idea what that is about.

My sister was in the kitchen with my mother. There were talking but I couldn’t make out what they were saying. I was hungry as I haven’t eaten all day. I went downstairs and was cursing. My right leg didn’t want to move right. I just want to have a quick something so I could go back to sleep before pain erupted. While I was eating my sister was anxious about the financial responsibilities of the house. I didn’t want to discuss it as there is not much I can do about it. I have a fixed income. It doesn’t change. What I give my mother every month helps pay things that I am not really sure what exactly. She never told me, and I never asked. But my sister was insistent on getting things figured out right now. We would have a family meeting. Meanwhile, she tells me my other sister is going to have a house built in the backyard. I continued eating and when I was finished, I just yes’d her until I could sneak away upstairs. I was starting to be in pain.

I got back in bed and my foot didn’t like how I went back in. Instant pain. That was it. I wasn’t going to sleep. I was upset over what my sister was telling me and now I angry I was in pain, again. Fucking fuck. I was suicidal the night before. Told my group I was tired and had someone concerned about me and did I have a therapist or “professional counselor”. Like WTF, you think I am an idiot? Then she wants me to tell her how I am doing. Fuck you. I get people flip out when they hear me talk about ending things. But it is worse when they tell me not to do “something stupid”. That is when I have a real problem.

So tonight I can sleep. My foot is in intense pain. I want to end it. I just go to make out a will as detailed as possible and write a few notes to family members. I don’t want a funeral. Just a wake will be sufficient. I want to be cremated anyway. I sort of picked my date. It has been in my mind the past couple of weeks. I don’t know if the location I pick is going to worthwhile or not. But it is where I want to pass.

I sent my psych an email the other night saying I had a date. Told her some other things but I don’t remember. I am just so very tired of always coming to place of feeling like ending my life and never taking a chance on it. Like why bother? Been suicidal the past several years like this. Made plenty of dates but have not once attempted. Maybe this time will be the same. I don’t know. I make the will and write a few notes, I think I can go through with it. I don’t know what else to do. Pain is messing up my sleep at night so I sleep during the day. I don’t do anything else because I try to catch up on sleep. I sleep am recovering from the two appts I on Thursday. I still cannot move my foot outward without pain. I emailed my PT to tell her. I don’t give a fuck what she thinks. I will just do what I can and if it causes me pain, then fuck it, I won’t do that particular exercise. It is hurting so bad. I can’t stand having both feel hurting me while walking. I am limping more on the CRPS side (left) than I am on my right.

My groceries are coming in the morning. I don’t know exactly when. I picked the same block because it gets me up. I have coffee so maybe I will have a cup or two. I don’t have many cookies left. I’ve been eating them like crazy. Might have to make another batch. Just wish it didn’t kill my feet in the process. Going to try and sleep some now. Hopefully I will. Arriverderci

Protected: private post

by Midnight Demon, posted in Bipolar Disorder, blogging, Chronic pain, chronic physical pain, CRPS, depression, mood disorders, suicide

This content is password-protected. To view it, please enter the password below.

From 11/22/2015

by Midnight Demon, posted in Bipolar Disorder, CRPS, depression, mental disorders, mental illness, mood disorders, psychache, suicidality

From 11/22/2015

Around this time, I was having trouble with my therapist. We were fighting over my suicidality. This is just one piece of the pie. Today 13/Feb/19, things haven’t changed. I still feel suicidal. I still want to write that note. I still want to drink that shot. I am seeking oblivion from feeling so empty and hurt. February since 2001 has been filled with anniversaries. The last one of ending both therapists, one temporarily. The other permanently. My heart is broken. I feel unloved. I feel uncared for. I feel like I don’t have anyone to turn to. I miss going to Starbucks and writing, even if it was in my journal only.
I just have physical therapy now. My schedule is an open book. Sure I see my psychiatrist every two weeks and will be seeing a new PCP. My life is surrounded my doctor appts.
My heart is aching so bad right now. I don’t think it will ever heal. I think dying is better.

Written 22/Nov/15

Regarding my suicidal career
I have been feeling like I should write a suicide note. I don’t know why this popped into my head tonight. I have been really struggling with suicide the past few days. I have a suicidogenic mother. She just brings it out in me. Tonight she called me “dear”. Last night she was calling me a lazy ass and tonight I am a dear? I know she was being sarcastic. She didn’t mean it. Neither parent ever means what they say so how am I supposed to believe them?
I sometimes don’t trust what my sister says either. I am not an emotional person. I just feel cut off from my feelings sometimes. Other times I am just so depressed I can’t do anything. I feel suicidal and that is all that I will feel. I don’t feel angry, I feel hurt most of the time.
I have been avoiding Twitter tonight because I am TiVo’g the American Music Awards and I don’t want to hear about it until I watch it. It’s so hard not being on Twitter. I would so love to tweet some more lyrics of Eric Church.
I am struggling with my suicidality. It would be so easy to die right now. And no one would know until the morning. But I don’t know how to kill myself. That is the whole fucking problem. I don’t have a gun or a high place. I don’t even have a beam to hang myself from. And you can’t die by wishing it. I tried that many a times and I am still here. I feel embarrassed that I told my cousins that I was poor. I don’t know why I told them that. It just came up and I blurted it out without thinking. Now they think whatever they think of me. They probably think I am a loser. That is bothering me, too. I feel like such a jerk. I really want to drink my problems away but I know that won’t help. Plus I just took my pain medication so that wouldn’t be a great idea. My therapist would have a cow if I drank and had my pain meds. She nearly had a coronary the last time I drank and took the meds. All it was, was two pain pills and a shot or two of gin. I didn’t even get drunk. I just slept really good. I don’t think I took my night meds. Tonight I took my night meds so no drinking. I hate that I am so strict with myself about alcohol. I don’t know if this is good or bad. I would love some honey whiskey. I have decided that for my birthday I am having 4 shots of whiskey, one for each decade I am alive, that is if I am still around. Tomorrow will mark one month till D-Day. I am so disgusted with myself for living this long. I never wanted to be an adult. I just really hate myself.
My cousin called me tonight. Left me a message saying where am I, how am I doing, the usual bullshit I hear from him when he doesn’t call me every night. He wants me to call him in the morning. HA, I had to laugh. He won’t be up. He is the one that is healthy but has bipolar disorder. He also is the one that calls me when my mother has groceries. I don’t like talking with him because he never understands the depth of my depressions. He doesn’t get suicidal with his depressions. He just barely functions (according to him) but he does the shopping with my mother and my aunt. He takes care of himself pretty good. Better than I do. I barely left the bed today. Only time I left my room today was to make something to eat or to have dinner with my mother. I didn’t even pee that much today because I haven’t been drinking any fluids. I know I am dehydrated because my pee is always orange. I have no thirst. I am past that. Sometimes I will get thirsty but it’s rare. I bought some orangata by San Pellangrino. I like it. Maybe it will help my dehydration. My grocery bill is over $200. I bought a lot of oatmeal and pancake stuff. I like getting the big stuff because I make a lot of oatmeal pancakes. I also like the simply orange juice and juice isn’t cheap anymore. My mother won’t buy it because it’s more than $3. I also bought a 9×13 pan that was on sale. But those pans are hard to find so I hope it doesn’t crack. It’s a pyrex dish with a cover. I bought it to make my brownies for my birthday. I figure I might as well have what I want for my birthday and this year I want a brownie cake with cool whip and cherries on top. All my mother has to do is mix it and put it in the pan. She also needs to buy the cool whip. I don’t know how long it stays so I figure when it gets closer to my day, she can get it. This is if I make it to my birthday