Tag: suicide ideation

I appear too normal to be crazy

by Midnight Demon, posted in blogging, depression, mood disorders, psychosis

I talked with my psychiatrist yesterday about all that was going down. I didn’t give her specific details about what I was doing just on how I was feeling. She just wanted to make sure she knew that I knew that if something was up, I was to let her know. This was all via email and again today I tried to set up an appointment with her. Still no dice.

I have been thinking about what to write about next in my book and got nothing. A little bit about what I wrote in yesterday’s blog might make it’s way in. I don’t know. I am still mulling over writing the stupid constriction blog my therapist wants me to do only because it will give me something to do but the thing is, it has been so long since I talked about it, I have to research the terms so I am writing correctly. I would hate to have this piece and it just be an idea of what I think it is when in reality it has nothing to do with the actual definition. And other than defining what constriction is, I don’t know I can go beyond that. I might turn it into a psychache paper of sorts. But I don’t have the idea yet in my head. That is the toughest part about writing.

I started writing in my journal again. Since I have been blogging, I have gone away with the paper writing, except in my day journal when I bring it with me. I used to write in my night journal nearly every night and then it just got away from me. I figured my online blog would be sufficient. But there are some things that I don’t like to post online so I guess it is good that I still have the journal. I don’t know when exactly I started keeping two journals, one I carry around with me when I am out and the other at my bedside. I guess when I was sharing my journals with my therapist it started. But seeing as I rarely see my therapist anymore, I don’t share with her what I write. It’s tough just trying to get her to read one of my blogs that might be good for us. She says she just doesn’t have time, but I think it’s that she forgets. Then I have to read my blog entry to her to discuss it. It kind of sucks because I hate reading what I write. But it also is a good way of editing sometimes. I like to think that what I write makes sense when I type it but sometimes it doesn’t because I miss a word or combine two ideas in the same sentence.

It’s Friday and I have nothing planned today. I want to get some sun in my back yard and maybe fill the kiddie pool to soak my feet and splash around for a little bit. But it will be boring with no one else around. I can’t read outside as the glare just bothers my eyes. Speaking of reading, I am hating the Team of Rivals book that I am reading. The author is dragging out every minute detail of how Lincoln got elected, how he chose his cabinet, everything. No wonder this book is over 800 pages!! I get interested in it but after reading the back and forth of how Seward got to be the Secretary of State, I got pissed off and have not gone back to it. You already knew that he was the SOS so why draw it out?? Three pages of it!! If it wasn’t such a heavy book, I would have thrown it across the room.

On the same kind of note, my review for the pen pal book got a “helpful” rating. I am glad that it did. I never got one of those before. I hope it helps my friend out.

The voices were rampant last night. I couldn’t sleep despite taking my meds and I had to take the heavy guns to stop my thoughts from thinking. They just kept on wanting to talk or have conversations with them just to keep me up. I couldn’t stand it. Then soon as I would get nice and settled, a voice would start all over again. It’s a miracle I fell asleep last night. I really thought I would pull an all nighter. Then I had to keep my hands off my laptop for fear of writing another blog or just keep checking statuses on Facebook or play my games. I almost had to shut down the laptop so I wouldn’t go on as it was nearing 0200. But I finally fell asleep and didn’t wake up till 0830. I had some breakfast and then went back to sleep. So far the voices are settled but they can come back at any time. The worse part is that I have no one to talk to about this. It’s not like I can tell my sisters or even my mother about this as they don’t know I hear voices. I have kept it under wraps all my life. I made the mistake of telling a cousin about my voices and now she uses it as a punchline. I have not told anyone since. I appear too “normal” to be crazy. Sometimes I tell my cousin Joe but I don’t think he gets it sometimes. Hearing voices is difficult to explain to people. The best way to describe it is to say that the conversations that you hear in a lunchroom or at a Starbucks are in your head rather than out. Sometimes it’s just one conversation, sometimes it is just one voice that is above the others and they tell you what to do. Mostly I have three main voices and each one is different. All female, mostly but the mean ones are male. One will constantly criticize what I am doing. Why I am eating that, going this particular way, or just be annoying by asking me questions the whole time I am going some where. Then I have the voices that ask questions until I pass out. I have a full fledged conversation in my room or while I am walking. Over the years I have learned to tune them out so they are not distracting me. But sometimes when I am stressing out about something, they will come out and I will talk out loud to shut them up. Because I have just the three voices, usually, I can handle them. But when I get agitated, sometimes more voices will pop out, like they have the past few days. Usually medication keeps them at bay but sometimes they get commanding. And that is when I have to go to the hospital because I want to do what they say. This coupled with delusions that I am a messenger of god or something is bad. I once had Allah talking to me and he was telling me that I had to sacrifice myself so that the war in Afghan would end. I really believed him so was making plans to end my life so not to disappoint him. It was crazy thinking now but it wasn’t then.

picking dates

by Midnight Demon, posted in chronic physical pain, depression, psychache, suicide

I started writing my lyrics book. I don’t know if I will ever get it published because of copyrights but I will worry about that when I am close to finishing.

I was supposed to get my blood work done today but I forgot my lab slip and headphones but didn’t want to miss the bus so I guess it will have to be another day.

It always surprises me the way people think about suicide and suicidal thinking. They think that you must be angry at someone or something. That something is keeping you here or you would have done it or that you are all talk until you do it. Or that you have to be in some mega pain (correctly so) to think of such things. I guess there still is some people that think that because they have had some experience with suicide because they themselves have thought about or even acted about it, they think they are experts. Well they are, to a degree. Not all people want to help after they have attempted. Some shy away from it and call it just a bad experience and vow never to go down that road again. Some continue to be suicidal, like myself. But I still want to help those that are suffering because it means that someone cares.

I have been writing for months (or what seems like months) about having a suicidal plan. The only people that know are my readers and my therapist. I am fearful of bringing up the subject with my psychiatrist for being hospitalized against my will. There are days, like today, that I don’t think I will go through with my plan. Then there are times that I think I will just for kicks and giggles. But the hardest part of this crazy plan is that it is not too detailed. I have a vague idea about what exactly I will be doing to kill myself. And because of this vagueness, I feel that I shouldn’t go through with it. The last thing I want is another failed attempt. That would devastate me more than anything.

As I was writing my lyric book, the first song that was on my list of songs was O.A.R’s “Shattered”. How fucking fitting. All throughout my suicidal career, I have always seemed to “turn the car around” and get back to my bearings, meaning that no matter how bad things were for me, I got through it, somehow, some way. And I am talking pitch black darkness. I don’t know what got me through each battle. Someone’s kindness, the neediness of my nieces and nephew, the words of my therapist or psychiatrist. I just don’t know but I got through it and some how came out the other side unscathed.

When I was a teenager and young adult, I cut to relieve myself of the awful pressure and pain that I was feeling. Today, the scars remind me that there were bad times and I got through with them. They are sort of like hash marks for all the trials and tribulations that I have gone through in my life. I don’t talk about these scars with anyone. They are just there as a reminder that I have seen darker days and some how pulled through. It helps to have these scars because they are real. They are the reminders I need to pull through along the rough patches that I continue to face. It is like they are almost saying, “you go through that, you can get through this”.

The trouble is, this time I don’t know if I want to “turn the car around”. I want my suffering to end. I want my pain to end, both physically and psychologically. I am tired of fighting every day. But then I have days like today where the battle doesn’t seem to great and I make it another day. But I am so scared of what tomorrow or tonight might bring. I never know when my demons will emerge from the darkness. So I have a date I look forward to. A date that will decide my fate, to test my resilience. To see if I will go through with ending my life. It is after all my choice. No one can really stop me for if not this date, then I will just pick another date.

Next song on my list is Linkin Park’s “numb”. How fitting.

games and suicidal thinking

by Midnight Demon, posted in blogging, CES, Chronic pain, chronic physical pain, mood disorders, suicide, suicide attempt

Woke up feeling energetic today but after my therapy appointment, my throat was hurting from talking for an hour and I lost my zip. I took a shower, brushed my teeth, and then went back to bed, though I didn’t sleep. I just kind of played on the computer. I am still playing Pioneer Trail, though I don’t know why. I think only about 10 of my 150 neighbors are still playing, which makes it difficult to get things for your homestead. I am also playing the dreaded Candy Crush saga. I had to see what the hype was about and wish I never did. I started playing on my phone then moved on to the computer. HUGE MISTAKE! So after I am bored with twitter and checking status updates on Facebook, I will be playing candy games. One thing I HATE about playing it on my phone is the dreadful music. It sounds like a funeral march or something. I have to turn the sound off to avoid it but then when I play my MP3s and no sound comes on I am like WTF till I remember that the sound is off.

I read my therapist my last blog entry. I think I really have a bozo for a therapist. She didn’t get the point of the blog. Think we spent like 5-10 minutes talking about it and then she wanted me to write a blog about constriction. I was like, where did that come from. She really thinks that I am in this blinders thinking about my plan. I know I am, that is why I am planning on killing myself! DUH! You don’t have to tell me I am suicidal when I am planning on killing myself. I can’t seem to be able to talk myself out of it. I am going to be true to my word this time around. How can I not be? I am tired of being in pain. I am tired of fighting everyday. I am tired of struggling. Why should I continue my lousy existence?

I tried again with my psychiatrist to get an appointment though I am feeling what is the use? Not like she has some radical new drug for me to try to help this ache I feel inside. I doubt a pill would help cure me of my suicidal tendencies. My therapist has threatened to tell her what is going on with me but has not. I can’t bear to tell her for fear of her throwing me back in the hospital and it’s not like the hospital is going to do anything for me except piss me off, and screw up my pain meds.

I see my primary tomorrow. I hope that he can do something about this throat pain that has been bothering for almost two weeks now. Every time I think I am getting better it flares up again. I still have a cough that likes to kick up every now and again. My sides are killing me from it. It is annoying. I am kind of thinking I will be placed on antibiotics but I am hoping not as I hate taking them.

My writing friend is in England right now. She will be there for a week. She said to write emails to her about my writing progress but I kind of don’t want to. It’s not that I have to or anything. I don’t think she is going to respond as she doesn’t have internet connection up there. I guess she is in the countryside of England so why bother when I know I won’t be getting a response. Much like my psychiatrist that doesn’t respond even with all her gadgets. I get frustrated with her when she doesn’t return emails, in a reasonable amount of time, like a day or two. I know she is busy and might not get the email right away but come on, it has been almost a week since I last emailed her and still NOTHING. So I sent her another email today asking for an appointment. I still have not heard anything. FRUSTRATING!

So maybe I will write a blog about constriction over the weekend. Not like my therapist is going to read it anyways…

Your Word

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

I think I should just give up sleep. I just can’t get sleepy tonight. I have my head racing a mile a minute and the voices won’t shut up so I am playing music because it is the only thing that calms me down. I had to go up on my meds to quiet them out. I love when I have three conversations going on in my head at once. It gets loud and noisy. Drives me crazy. Just picture a crowded lunch room with a bunch of people talking at once. That is what is going on in my head right now. Doesn’t help that I should not have had the sausage for dinner. My stomach is killing me. I just took some antacid. I wish I could fall asleep but it just isn’t happening. I am too wound up. The voices keep asking me questions. What am I doing? what am I writing? How am I feeling? What do you think of this? What do you think of that? UGH I just want to sleep and they just don’t get it. Least they aren’t telling me what to do. But I am scared the new voices, the ones that are having a big conversation might turn against me. Then I will have to go to the hospital. I would hate that.

I don’t know why I have been so angry lately, more annoyed, than I have been. Started with someone calling me a bullshitter. I am not. I can’t even if I tried and then you will know that it is. I did realize that if I don’t go through with my plans to end my life, I will be breaking a promise to myself and I don’t know if I can live with that because I have let myself down so many times. That is why I keep future dates. But this time I really mean it. I am not going to see 2014. I just can’t face another year of being in pain. I know I should learn to live with it but I just can’t. I can’t break a promise to myself that I will end the suffering. What started this all was reading today’s AAS (American Association of Suicidology) blog. I felt like I could go on if only I could live with the pain. But I can’t. It’s too unbearable. It might not be all the time. It might not be every day. But when it hits, I just want to curl up and die. But instead I am just popping pills. I am a pill popper. And I don’t like it. I am ashamed of it. But with out these pills, I am in horrific pain. And isn’t it better that I am not in pain while popping these pills? It’s a catch 22 and you can’t eat your cake too. Though I would have loved some cake tonight. I miss having desserts. I used to have pie all the time when I was at work but then the pies got sucky and I switched to cake. Some cakes were better than others. I wouldn’t eat the frosting, just the cake part because that is what I like, with a little bit of frosting not a glob. Though sometimes in my moods for chocolate, I will eat the frosting, if it isn’t too sweet. But I digress…

Right now my stomach and throat hurt. Not because of the same reasons. I knew I shouldn’t have had the greasy sausage so that is why my stomach is acting up. My throat is acting up because I still have whatever virus or bacteria I caught last week. I have the A/c going because it is quite warm in my room and humid. I cannot stand humidity. So now I am freezing in my winter pjs and have my comforter on. Oh well.

What does your word mean if you don’t keep it? I mean we all make promises to ourselves all the time. We promise to go on a diet, to go to the gym, etc. but what if you make a promise to kill yourself? How can you not keep that promise when it means so much to you? I am struggling with that question. I mean if you give your word to someone, you generally keep it, least I do. That is why I am still here. Because I have kept my word to her that I would not kill myself. But what about my word to myself? Don’t I get the same kind of respect? Am I disrespecting myself by not keeping my word to MYSELF? I don’t know. Maybe promises to yourself are meant to be broken and only those for others are to be kept. It just hurts that I have to live to please others when I am disrespecting myself knowing that I should be dead.

Also what has been ticking me off is that the prez of the AAS thinks he can stop suicide from ever happening. He is fooling himself. I half want to say to him, dude, if you can save me you can save the world but I don’t tell him my true feelings. How can I in 140 characters on twitter? Even the founder of the AAS has stated that he does not want to live in a world where suicide doesn’t exist. Suicide is and always will be an individual choice that no one else can make but you. So why am I still hanging on?