Tag: suicide ideation

awful session with therapist

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

It came! My World Series cap finally arrived today. I hope it would have lifted this awful mood I am in but it hasn’t.

I don’t know where to begin. I had an awful session with my therapist last night. She was asking what to do with her anxiety and how it could be put to rest. I said valium is the answer. She said that wouldn’t make me less suicidal. True but she could zone out about it. I am joking here. I know suicide is not a joking matter but this is my blog and I will say what I want. She talked about how her anxiety revolves around my safety and she just doesn’t think I am safe anymore so how can she simply ignore that when I keep talking about putting a rope around my neck. And that is not to accessorize. (ok, another bad joke.) I think she should consult with someone. I really think that SHE needs someone to talk to about my case. Maybe they could help her. I know you can’t go alone when you are dealing with someone and their suicidality. That goes for client and therapists. I will tell her this on Tuesday when I see her. Or just send her this blog so she reads it and maybe it sticks in her head a little bit better.

I don’t know why I am in such a rotten mood. I guess because I made my therapist cry and I feel bad about that. Another indication that we are too close. I so very badly want to cancel Tuesday’s appointment but I have no where to go that day. Monday I see my psychiatrist. I don’t know how much of this I am going to tell her. We (therapist and I) talked about the hospital but what good will it do me. They don’t have you talk about stuff when you are there. They make you fill out a distress tolerance bullshit form. Like that is really going to help in times of wanting to put a fist through the wall. I don’t feel like doing that. I do feel like finishing off my bottle of whiskey. What would it hurt? Except for writing more “truth serum” blogs? I guess I am feeling hurt because that is really the only time I want to drink. Listening to Lady Antebellum is helping. They have made some their song acoustic and it is really cool. I need music right now to right this wrong I feel that I have done.

No one in my family knows about this. I haven’t talked to anyone. I wrote a friend an email asking what do I do but I haven’t heard back from her yet. It might be a few days till I hear back from her. She is the slowest person to respond to email because she is so busy. So I wait.

Other than a blogger friend, I really have no one to talk to about this kind of stuff. But I am just not in the mood for talking right now. Today is my sister’s birthday and I am supposed to go to her party in about four hours from now. I really don’t feel like it. I just want to stay in my warm bed and hide under the covers. I forgot to get her a birthday card but then I think that birthday cards are stupid. All anyone cares about is what is inside. They don’t care what the card says. And they are more expensive now than they were in the past. Some as much as four fricken dollars? For something someone glances at and then junks? Seems ridiculous to me and a waste of money.

I have eaten only small meals today. I am starting to get hungry but I don’t feel like eating. I hate that. I just don’t know what I want. I kind of want Pad Thai but I think I will get that Monday when I see my pdoc as the restaurant is around the corner and it is a late appointment. Even if I wanted to go into the hospital I can’t. Not until I see my PCP for my monthly pain check visit. He is another one that wants me to call him if I feel like acting on something. What is he really going to do I have no clue. Not like I am really going to call him anyways. I have a crazy, lunatic therapist and my pdoc to call first.

Shouldn’t have gone out today

by Midnight Demon, posted in cauda equina syndrome, CES, chronic physical pain, suicide attempt

Shouldn’t have gone out today

Today is a CES day that I should have listened to my body instead I gave into my coffee needs. What does a CES day entail, well, when it involves the bowels, you stay home so you don’t shit yourself. And today was one of those days. I thought after going twice already I would be ok. Wouldn’t you know that the third time was the trick?? I was not even a block from my house when my bowels erupted. I was hoping to make it and I failed. I feel humiliated and disgusted with myself. It’s not every day that this happens. And it was more than just sharting (farting and shitting at the same time). I didn’t even fart, which to me was the worse of it. Then I could say that it was more than a fart but not this time. I soiled myself and I felt degraded like I do every time this happens. I was having a good day and now I just want to die from the humiliation I feel. Worse part is that I can’t even share this with anyone but myself and therapist and maybe my support group.

As I was in the bathroom, I decided I needed a shower. I had to. So I asked my mother to bring me a towel. She saw that I didn’t have underwear and figured I had messed myself as I was crapping my bowels out. She didn’t say anything. I don’t know if I was relieved or angry. But at least I didn’t have to explain myself. I think that horror would have really brought out the cutting urges. I stood longer in the shower than I probably should but didn’t care. I know my ankle is going to thank me later for this indiscretion.

I am listening to David Nail because that is what kind of mood I am in. He sings sad songs and it resonates with me. I need that kind of soothing that his voice brings. I think he is the only male artist that touches me this way.

I’m waiting to hear back from my therapist. Hope she calls soon.

exhaustion, pain, and therapy

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

As my mother would say, I did nothing at all today to warrant feeling utterly exhausted. What she didn’t know is that I woke up three times during the night because of pain and had to take my pain medication each time I woke up. She doesn’t get that I don’t sleep at night, ever. It is a rare event now to get at least 6 straight hours of sleep at night. I have been managing only 3-4 so far for the past week. It’s only seven o’clock and I feel like I have been up all day even though I did get up at noon, a half hour before my therapy session. I made breakfast even though my ankle was killing me. It started last night when I got home from the party and hasn’t really let up. Today I got a compression sleeve for the ankle and put it on. It really helped with pain control. I have had it on for a couple of hours and had to take it off because the material was annoying me. Now the pain is returning. You can wear the compression sleeve for 24 hrs but I don’t want my skin to get annoyed with me. Because my foot/ankle is nerve damage, even socks annoy me after a length of time.

I really want to take a nap but then I will be up in a few hours and won’t sleep through the night. It is a vicious cycle.

I talked with my therapist today. She read both my blogs on my rant about her and my transgender. She really wants me to see this transgender doctor at the LGBTQ health center in town. But I told her I can’t. We were supposed to get back to the other blog, where we come up with something different than how she is handling my suicidal crisis and I suggested that she have her doctor prescribe her valium. I was sort of half joking/being serious. I don’t know what is going to ease her anxiety about me being in a suicidal crisis. I just know that it is interfering with me telling her what I need to tell her. I remember a time where I could tell her my plans and she might not agree with them and I know she certainly didn’t want me to go through with them but she listened to it. Now it’s literally like she panics soon as I get another hair brained idea to kill myself. Oh and I wanted tomorrow off just so I could sleep in. You would have thought I was trying to steal the Hope diamond. SHE went berserk on that plan so I countered with a session for Thursday. She is like the mother hen from psycho land or something. She always wants to know what I am doing. My own mother could care less what I am doing and where I am going.

So the reason I bring this up is to try and think of a way in my exhausted state to tell my therapist she really needs valium or another way of handling me. But what does that look like? I am not her so I can’t just tell her to fuck off, I mean I can but it’s not going to get me anywhere. How am I supposed to get her to calm down? And why am I the one to think of these things?? Shouldn’t therapists already know how to handle shit? It’s not like I am confessing a gruesome murder or something. Well, maybe. In a sense I am telling her how I am completing my own murder of self. But it’s not like I am chopping off my head and body parts. Though right now the only body part I would LOVE to chop off would be my ankle. I got to seriously think about this one because I don’t know what to do. I generally like to be on my own about this stuff and she doesn’t want me to be alone. Maybe that is what she should do, leave me alone and let me tell her whatever it is that is running through my rabbit brained mind. I know the chance of me acting on such thoughts are small. But thinking those thoughts give me a release that helps me get through the darkness. But as we were talking about today, if I don’t talk about the dark thoughts, if I keep them inside without anyone hearing them, Then Mr. Hyde is going to come out and start with the suicide notes, and this time it might be more people out there than just my blog can reach.

difference is hormones

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

*****WARNING MIGHT BE TRIGGERING*******

I was listening to some old songs tonight and it got me into a depressive funk. I then started to think of why I am depressed as I had no real reason to be. I started mindlessly picking at my chin. Then I realized I shaved off my goatee yesterday. I think a bit of my “manhood” went with it because my mother yelled at me to shave it off. She is never going to be accepting of the transgender identity I have. I guess that is why I feel so depressed and suicidal. I feel no one understands me. My sisters didn’t say anything about the goatee I was wearing in support of my baseball team. My father had nothing to say. Not even my soon to be 90 year old Aunt/Godmother said anything when I saw her in the hospital a few weeks ago.

The reality is that I am a female, not a male like my brain and my feelings think I am. It makes me sick. Really it does. I should be in the grave by now. They always say that transgendered are the most likely to kill themselves. I don’t know why I just don’t go downstairs and get the rope. End it sometime after this week. I can play with the knots and length of rope I will need. I never intended to kill myself at my own house but hotels are too expensive and I don’t have a credit card anymore. I couldn’t get one unless I was paying THEM to get it.

I don’t know why I keep struggling to hold on. Even now I am just saying one more day to get through, just one more day. I don’t want one more day. I want to be dead NOW. Sure there are people I can talk to about this stuff, not. No one understands what I am going through. I don’t even understand what I am going through so how is anyone else? Yet tomorrow I am supposed to put on a happy face and see my family for my Aunt’s 90th birthday celebration and pretend that nothing is wrong with my life. I feel like my whole life is just a poser, an imposter of some sort. I have the façade of someone else all the time. But who that is, I don’t know. But don’t we all at one point have different sides of self? But this isn’t a side of me. This is the whole me that wants to die because I can’t be a male. I was looking at a photo of my Mexican friend with his little Mexican mustache and I was so jealous. Jealous because he can grow facial hair better than I ever could. And the difference is hormones. I have been contemplating getting supplements that boost testosterone. Only problem is that I am afraid it might also kill my liver or some other important organ. I know someone that gets hormones through a gym but I am not the type to do anything illegal. I don’t even know if I could “shoot” up the stuff in the first place. But I am getting far a field with these ideas.

The way I see it I have two choices: die or become a male. And frankly, dying seem a hell of a lot easier.