Tag: suicide ideation

having a bad day

by Midnight Demon, posted in blogging, cauda equina syndrome, chronic physical pain, depression, suicide

Having a bad day

I woke up in pain, again. This is the third or fourth morning where my foot has woken me up from a sound sleep. I took some pills to get some relief but unfortunately, I was not going back to sleep. Every noise in the house kept me up. Then my mother’s phone rang. Then the damn smoke detectors went off for some reason I still haven’t figured out yet. Because this noise is far louder than the phone, it scared me and forced me out of bed. When I knew the house wasn’t truly on fire or my mother had left the gas burner on again, I had something to eat and then played on my laptop. I have been playing the same annoying game. I don’t know why I can’t quit it. No one will know but I want to complete the damn missions and it gives me something to do.

I am in a depressed state, a deeply depressed state. I really want to end my life. I find no use for living anymore. I hate being in pain all the time. And then we have Tuesday coming up. A day that I planned a year ago to end my life by if things weren’t better. Things are some what better than they were a year ago. I am not as suicidal or depressed (except for my current state) as I was a year ago. I find that I don’t write depressing messages on Facebook anymore. I will, however, tweet them. I have a book that is done and is ready to be published. I just need an editor to look over anything that I have missed. I am actually looking forward to things, though right now, I can’t say what I am looking forward to. Things just look dreary and dark. I am not looking forward to Christmas or my birthday, both are next week. But Tuesday I am planning on having a day with Crown Royal and drink my sorrows away. I have a ¼ of a bottle left. I doubt I will get very drunk.

I am tired of feeling this way. Maybe I should be dead. My sister said to me the other day that there is no “mental illness on my mother’s side of the family”. It took all that I had in me not to laugh in her face. HELLO, I wanted to scream at her. What about me?? What about your cousins that suffer from anxiety, bipolar disorder and schizophrenia? Aren’t they on your mother’s side??? Talk about complete blindness and denial.

I really want to commit suicide. I have dreamed about it for so long. Why can’t I go ahead with it? Why am I such a coward? I do nothing day in and day out. I have nothing but this blog to keep me going. I feel like I have to write every day or I will lose my mind. I stopped writing in my journal. I don’t seem to have very much to say after I blog. It’s all the same isn’t it except what I journal doesn’t get posted on the internet.

I know that I have another book to write. I don’t know exactly what that will be yet as it is supposed to be co-authored. But I don’t care. One book will be enough for me. I can’t write anything else. Once you write about your memoirs, you can’t write another. Unless at least thirty years go by or something and I know I am not going to be around for the next thirty years. I will be lucky if I make it past this week. I am so tired of fighting myself every day. I am more tired of dealing with pain every day. Today was bad. Still is as the day isn’t over yet. I know part of it is because of the snow storm that hit. I haven’t gone outside nor do I want to. I just realized I have to deal with my father yet again for another stinking doctor’s appointment, all because the asshole lies all the time and won’t give a straight answer. So if his doctor tells him something he is not going to a) remember it or B) deny it and just say that he is “fine”. I don’t know how I got to be the one to go to these appointments. All the more reason I should kill myself. Just so I don’t have to deal with an ornery bastard.

I still have to hear back from my therapist about my sessions or lack thereof this week. I really don’t want sessions this week. I rather deal with this on my own. I do anyways.

you learn to live with it

by Midnight Demon, posted in blogging, cauda equina syndrome, chronic physical pain, depression, suicide

You learn to live with it

It didn’t happen overnight. It didn’t happen in a week. It took some time but you learned to bare it. Except on nights like this when the pain keeps you awake and nothing eases your mind to bring on sleep. You think of death as your only way out. You think of what more your doctor can do to ease the pain but he doesn’t know because it’s fucking midnight and he’s not on call anyways. Besides, they don’t want to hear you cry in pain. They just want you to live with it. And that is the toughest thing to do.

I have been battling pain since seven tonight. And it’s been a trigger for me. CES started when my left leg went out on me and then I was left with foot drop. I wasn’t told to live with it. I was told my ass was going to have surgery for a condition I had no knowledge of. I still don’t have complete knowledge of cauda equina syndrome because it varies in so many people. Sometimes the right side is affected. Sometimes it is the left. In my case it was the left and I still have nerve damage twelve years later.

Yet I haven’t been told to live with the pain. No, not yet. But you have to or you lose your mind or your life. It is a conscious effort every day to not stare at the bottle of pills or some other weapon of destruction and not think, why not? You have to take the walls down piece by piece of the strength you have and build it back up again with new ones to block the pain out the best you can. But sometimes, like tonight, the walls fails you and you are in mega pain. My foot/ankle/leg are hurting all at once and all you want to do is scream. But you can’t because it’s after midnight and everyone else is asleep. Thoughts of wanting to amputate run high on these nights. It’s a good thing there isn’t a chainsaw in the bedroom.

Meds kicking in is a joke. They may lessen the pain some but they do nothing to ease it 100%. At my best, the pain is always on the level of 3 on a scale of 1-10. At my worst, like now, it can be an 8-12. So I will have to take a third pain pill to quiet it down or I won’t be waking up at 0645 like I need to. Got to take dear old Dad for his tests.

I hate my leg right now. And I should be able to live with the pain. And I will. But not tonight. Tonight I am writing and writing until I pass out because people should know that despite having surgery for CES, you are still left in pain. It is called nerve pain and it sucks. Nothing eases it except narcotic medications or some anti-convulsant drug and that is some of the time. Oh how I wish I could call my doctor now. Have him see the veins popping out on my foot, how swollen my ankle bone is and how I can’t get it down with ice or elevation.

But I got to live with this? I can’t kill myself? That really sucks when you know you are in so much pain, physically, and you can’t end your life because of it. I have too many people I’m responsible for. People say they will miss me. I often wonder if that is true.

My psychiatrist told me tonight to take my meds and get some rest. How am I supposed to do that when I got pain this bad? I keep hearing her voice telling me to go to bed. But I can’t sleep. Pain is just too fucking bad.

I didn’t do anything to cause this. I didn’t stand too long, I didn’t walk too far. I didn’t go up and down the stairs too much today. Well, maybe I did, now that I think about it. I went downstairs a few times to empty my recycle bins and get rid of some boxes in my room.

I wish I could just disappear, permanently, where there is no more pain and no more agony. No more depression. But I don’t want to be happy all the time. That would be too weird for me. Just being content is all that I want. Content means being neither sad nor happy but not being miserable either.

I just want the pain to stop permanently. Then I maybe I could live my life a little better. Third dose of meds and an Ativan have kicked in. And this is how I live with it, without putting a noose around my neck. I put my hat on backwards and I write, until the meds kick in.

It helps to write. It really does.

an example of Mr. Hyde

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

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.
 

on my soapbox

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

Productive day

I had a productive day. I have been up since six and then went on a caffeine high. That was fun seeing my psychiatrist when I was all racy and talkative. My mood has been up and down all week and I have finally been able to spend some time on my book. I just have seventeen pages to go, which I probably will either do tonight or tomorrow. I haven’t decided. I just read one bleak, downhearted blog entry that I included in the book and it brought my high down. I couldn’t/can’t believe how down I really was. Not to say that I haven’t been down all week but still. My writing was very touching to me and I am the author! I don’t know if I should keep it though. In the book, I made several mentions of my upcoming suicidal plan and also of my plan that I had back in August. But as my therapist calls me, I am a planner. I just am not a do-er. Which sucks for me because I have to continue living this crap every day. I guess it’s good that once I write the dark stuff I don’t think about it as much anymore.

My psychiatrist answered an email I sent her from Monday. I told her that I could no longer “live like this anymore” because I got my menses (which thankfully have gone away!) We talked a little bit about doing something about the transgender issues but I am just not ready to go ahead with it as much as my therapist wants me to. I think she gets it but I still don’t think she (pdoc) knows just how much I want to kill myself because I am in the wrong body. I read about my struggles today in my book and it just killed me. Knowing that I can’t go ahead because of my family and being forced to stay in the wrong body. I just feel like a transvestite because I wear men’s clothes. That is what I am. Whatever you want to call me, it hurts. It causes a huge whole in my heart that can never be filled up.

On another note, I belong to a CRPS support kind of group on Facebook. In one of their posts, they listed oil of wintergreen to help with joint pain. At this stage, I am willing to try anything to ease my ankle pain that throbs me night and day, day and night. Well I bought the stuff from VitaminShoppe but it was the wrong kind. I bought the aroma therapy version and not the application version. Who the hell knew there were different kinds! Now I have to plan a day to go to Harvard Sq and return the bottle. I feel stupid. The bottle didn’t have instructions on it, which I thought kind of weird. I am just glad that I didn’t use it as it probably would have irritated my skin. It should have said that on the website and I would have bought another kind.

Last night I made Nutella cookies for the first time. Now it turns out that I have some kind of allergy to nuts. I had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and then the Nutella cookies and my stomach got wicked bloated. I just had another cookie to see if it was the peanut butter or the hazelnut and I am hurting. DAMMIT! I love these two nuts. I hope this doesn’t include all nuts because I will be pissed! I am going to miss having a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. *sad face*

On yet another note, I got an tweet from Medscape Psychiatry today about how a single question can lead to a suicide risk. I read the article and low and behold, if someone is thinking about dying nearly every day it is a risk factor for death by suicide or suicide attempt! Really??? I want to tweet one of the authors and scream DUH!!! One of the authors is actually a tweet follower of mine. But what is sad is that there were 709 suicide attempts and 46 death by suicides that could have been avoided had someone CARED to ask more about their feelings. It’s like being asked do you have heart disease or high cholesterol in your family and NOT being tested for it, in my opinion! That is just negligence. And another sad thing is that the questionnaire used was the same one used by Jobes to help initiate his CAMS framework and SSF (see this blog for more info). Just kills me that people are so afraid of death that they can’t deal with people talking about it so people have to kill themselves because no one fucking cares they are hurting. And you don’t need a whole fucking questionnaire to find out if someone is suicidal. Just ask! 9 out 10 times they will say yes. The one person will probably just end up denying it because of being labeled crazy. But the important thing is to be open about it. Ok I am off my soapbox, for now…