in a dark mood

I have been fighting the urge to sleep all day. I took a shower and then went to walgreens to pick up my script. I am really exhausted and my foot is killing me. I am really in a dark place. I hope I can talk to my therapist tomorrow. This weekend has really been shitty. The nerve block wore off and I was in all kinds of pain yesterday. I just am trying to keep things in perspective but it is just so hard. I emailed my psychiatrist and all she had to say was sorry I am in so much pain.

I have been craving dinosaur chicken nuggets and smiley french fries. I hope I can get them today but my sister’s car is blocked in. I really don’t feel like taking public transit to the grocery store. It will be too exhausting. All I did yesterday was sleep. If I wrote a blog, I don’t remember what I wrote. I just wish I could feel the way I did before the nerve block. I rather be a 3 all the time than an 8. This sucks. I want ice cream too. I might raid my sister’s freezer as I saw she had black raspberry. I am in such a sucky mood that all I want is junk food. I should have bought some when I was in Walgreens. I wasn’t thinking. It’s really warm out today. But it’s cold in my room. My feet are cold.

I don’t know if my niece is starting to read my blog or not so I won’t go into the dark thoughts. I really don’t want to be anymore. I just feel like everything is a waste. That I am a waste of space. I hate feeling like this. I heard another actor died by heroin overdose. I didn’t know him or even heard of him. But I hear there is a kind that is killing people.

I just want to die. my soul is just blackness. I have fallen into the abyss again.

Reflections on the Year

Reflections on the year

This time last year I was deeply in physical pain and psychological pain and in the throws of a yet another nasty depression. I was asked to do a writing project for a friend and I didn’t think I would make it. I was sure by this time, on this date, I would be dead. And if I happened to be alive on Dec 17th, I would surely die by my own hand. I promised myself that if things were still the same, that this heaviness that I felt in my chest were not gone, that the pain in my ankle/leg/foot were not decreased, I was going to end things, permanently.

This year, things are still not a hundred percent better but things are less. My depressions are bearable when they hit. I have Wil Wheaton to thank for giving me the tidbit that my brain is not working right and that things will pass and be better tomorrow. My suicidality, though still a deep part of my soul, has decreased to the point where it is just thoughts I ruminate over and then give up. I figured out with the help of some books that this is always going to be a struggle for me, that my depression and pain are always going to be there. But like a former therapist said to me, you don’t always have to act on what you are feeling. These days, I am a little bit more hopeful about the future, though I don’t always see it. I still get hopeless every once in a while but it doesn’t last forever like it once did. I find that writing my blog has been a life saver for me. Mr. Hyde hasn’t come around in almost two months now and for that I am grateful. I have people in my life that have helped me see that I can succeed, even though I am disabled. It took a long time for me to accept my disability. Took longer to grieve it. But eventually, when I realized that part of the depression and suicidality was the grief I was not mourning, I took it apart piece by piece and wrote about it. There was nothing I could do about the pain except wait for the pain meds to work and for that I grateful that I have it. Also emailing my psychiatrist about the depth I was in helped as well. I don’t know if I am still going to have the same doc in 2014 and that scares me. I know that getting pain medication is going to be harder to get with new doctors and even harder as government rules will dictate the rules for prescribing rather than relying on clinical judgments. I don’t know what I will do then. But that is not my worry for today.

I don’t know what brought about the change. Maybe it was having a daily contact with someone miles away from me, urging me to continue my writing and work on a book. Maybe it was a little of owning the depression and taking charge of it, that it doesn’t have to rule my life like it would love to. I just know that I feel differently than I did a year ago. And though the impulses to kill myself are still a threat, I have a therapist that is behind me like a fungus that won’t go away. I really doubt without her countless sessions I would still be here. She really has been the one person that I can always rely on to be there when my mood is dark and gray. We might have our arguments about treatment but I know that she believes in me that things aren’t always going to be so bleak. I guess I have more people in my life now that believe that I can do things where last year I didn’t think I was going to survive my own lethality. I have been tested a few times this year to end my life. I have made several plans before today to end my life this year. My therapist can account for that. Though I have only had one psychotic break this year that required hospitalization. My hospitalizations have been fewer in recent years than they were in the past. I think that is more because I don’t think they help as they once did and that is a shame. You don’t get the care I once relied on.

Lastly, I have to thank country music for without listening to the same songs over and over for hours of despair, I doubt I would be able to make it though the horrible nights when I couldn’t sleep, either because of pain or despair or both. It is the one genre that I can relate to every song and let my brain do the escaping when I was writhing in agony. From songs like “water tower” by Jason Aldean to “Crash my party” by Luke Bryan, to Taylor’s endless songs and lastly to the other artists that I have followed but are not so popular, Casey James and Cassadee Pope. Without music, the heart just doesn’t heal from pain.

this is me swallowing my pride

I worked on my book and I think that it is a good book. It might not make the New York Times list but as long as it sells 100 copies I will be happy.

I have been in a disgruntled mood. My therapist never got back to me because of her commitments yesterday. I just wish she could have texted me something so I wasn’t hanging all day. I am not having so many flashback symptoms but I think that has more to do with not being in a lot of pain today. I have been experiencing more side effects from the Abilify than anything. I have to take Ativan to deal with it. And it makes me feel sluggish and sleepy. But as long as it takes away this rubber band feeling, I don’t care. I can’t lower my dose because the psychosis will come back, and quickly like it did before. I also don’t want to be in the hospital for Christmas. I haven’t called my psychiatrist yet. I am hoping they will settle down some so I won’t have to. Not much she can do about it anyways other than tell me to take Ativan. If that doesn’t work, I am sure I can take benedryl to help. I have the need to be snowed anyways. I have been in an awful frame of mind and my stupid therapist wants to activate Mr. Hyde. WTF, really?? My suicidality has been on an all time low and you want to activate the demons? I was toying with her today about it. But it’s not going to happen. I can’t risk taking my life for no reason. I have an appointment with her all this week to make up for Monday I guess. And next week she is trying to get me to open up about the personal reason why I need the 17th off.

I need the 17th off so that I can think. It is going to be a very depressing day for me. And I want to spend it alone, without having therapy. I think I am going to finish drinking the rest of my crown royal bottle. I think alcohol will go nicely with the end of thinking of suicide, but no one has to know about it. I don’t want anyone to know the real reason. My therapist doesn’t read my blogs unless I send them to her. So I am safe.

I have no idea if what I wrote makes any sense. Please leave comments if you think this is a good idea or if I should see my therapist on the day that I am not going to be thinking of ending my life anymore.

I don’t know what this blog is going to be like after I set this into motion. I know there will be blogs where I talk about death. It is the nature of this beast called pain. And of course the first song from my “Just Taylor” playlist is “back to December”. “so this is me swallowing my pride…”

an example of Mr. Hyde

I have a serious mental illness that wants me to claim my life. I hear voices that taunt everything I do but I have never been violent towards another person and god help me, hope I never will. I just want to kill myself because I am a sorry excuse for a human being. I don’t blame my parents or my siblings for the way I turned out. It just happens to be who I am, I may not accept it but it is who I am. I know that someday I will ultimately end my life by my own hand. I know because I think about it every day. But I will NOT take another person’s life other than my own. Do I need to have a lifetime commitment because I am so suicidal? Probably but insurance companies don’t see it that way. As long as you are not in “imminent” danger to harm yourself or others, you cannot be allowed to stay in the hospital for more than a few days time, against your will. I have been there many times and even though I have chronic suicidality, I have never been kept beyond the three days or two weeks because of my suicidality. I might have been kept because the voices were telling me to harm myself, but never because I said I was suicidal after the three days. The mental health system is wrong and should be address these issues I am stating. Because maybe a longer admission is what I need to get better. I have intense psychotherapy with my therapist twice sometimes three times a week and still feel suicidal. I have been on every drug used for psychiatry and yet I still feel suicidal. How am I to live my life when I want to end it so much? How am I supposed to work and go to college when thinking about my death is all that matters to me? No hospital can change it. No psychiatrist can and no psychotherapist can. So the blame then gets shifted on to me. It’s my fault for not “wanting” to get better, that my negative attitude/emotions are what is causing me to be suicidal. If I change my attitude, I will be happier. It’s all bullshit. It’s not my fault being this way anymore than it’s a dying person with cancer fault because they have cancer. And believe me, I would much rather trade places with them because I know they are going to die while this “emotional cancer” is eating me alive and no one can see it. And no one wants to help me either. I can only save myself if I want to. Well, I give up. I don’t want to anymore. What purpose will living my life that I know is only going to end up six feet under. I have thought about cremation but the cost is the same. I thought about buying my own plot somewhere but I really don’t care what my family does with my remains. They are of no use to me anymore. So I am giving myself some time before I do it. And hopefully within this time frame things will change. Because if they don’t I am dead and there is nothing anyone can do to stop me.