Tag: suicide ideation

Pain changes

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

Pain changes

I used to have pain that began anywhere between 1800-2300. Now it’s starting to happen around 1400 in the afternoon. WTF. It’s the same type of pain I experience at night, only earlier in the day now. And it lasts well into the evening. Because it’s day time, I can’t take a full dose of meds unless I know I am doing absolutely nothing the rest of the day because I am basically drugged up. It usually knocks me out and I sleep, which messes with my night time sleeping. Today I took one pain pill when I came home from Starbucks and then paged my psychiatrist because I felt uneasy.

I was supposed to kill myself today, so this pain isn’t helping that feeling of wanting to die. I told my therapist that I would use my crisis response plan if I was in trouble. I am not to the point of needing to go to the ER but I do need to talk to my psych because she can help calm me down. My therapist will just get excited and be no use to me then have to get off the phone with me, leaving me feeling in worse shape before she called. Least with my psychiatrist we can come up with some kind of plan until I meet with her tomorrow.

I took an Ativan because my anxiety was getting up. I feel mellow now. I also want to sleep but my psych hasn’t called back and I don’t want to miss her call. I guess it’s good that I am not anxious because I was going to ask her what the quickest way to amputate your limb would be, chainsaw or a sawzall.

I just had dinner so I shouldn’t have to go downstairs anymore unless I have to use the bathroom. Or want a snack. But I will only snack if my pain levels return to normal (which they won’t) or my doc calls and calms me down so I don’t do anything to harm myself in the mean time. I am so sick of this shit. The pain has taken a life of it’s own. I can understand hurting at night when I have done nothing all day. But to bother me in the day time hours, too? NO, I won’t stand for it. Something needs to be done. Though what that is, I have no fucking clue. I am sure my PCP that I see tomorrow is going to be just as clueless. Least my pain meds work on the pain so I don’t need to change meds.

Thing is, I didn’t do anything different today than I normally do. I didn’t stand for hours on the train or waiting for the bus. I didn’t walk more than I normally do. I was having an okay day until the damn pain hit. Then everything went out the fucking window and I wanted to fucking die. I still feel that way but it’s more manageable since I have taken the Ativan and pain meds to control some of the pain. I would love to take a nap but it’s too late for it. I will just take my meds early tonight and try and see if I can sleep at a decent hour. I got to leave the house early tomorrow. I just hope my pain doesn’t get worse as time goes on. Or the pain meds wear off in the middle of the night and I am in excruciating pain. That always is my worry.

Reflections of Yesterday’s therapy session

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

Reflections of yesterday’s therapy session

I woke up hangover after all the Neurontin I took last night. I wasn’t surprised as I knew I would be. I needed coffee but I just missed the bus and had to wait an hour for the next one. I goofed off on the laptop and got ready to go out.

The homeless guy I met last week was on the bus. He didn’t appear to acknowledge my presence so I just kept my distance. I got to Starbucks and ordered my espresso with a breakfast sandwich. I had been craving to have their sausage, egg, and cheese. I then played with my phone while I ate before writing in my journal.

I started writing in my journal about yesterday’s session. I’m not sure how our sessions are going to be now that she feels inadequate. The whole thing is making me feel like a jerk. If we do get an “adjunctive” therapist, how will our sessions be? I can’t imagine having two therapists where we talking about the same things in therapy. It’s just going to be draining on me and useless time for me. I don’t understand why she can’t be the “therapist” and work on my fucking issues. She did before. I don’t understand why things have changed. And it’s frustrating me because I have to wait till Tuesday to get these questions answered. Plus the holiday is coming up so I know there is going to be NO ONE to see me until after the holidays, if she is able to find someone.

The whole thing is freaking me out and thinking she doesn’t want to work with me anymore but still wants to be in contact with me no matter what. How is that going to fly? I know in the past while I was seeing a therapist in my hometown we still met with one another. But it was mostly to bitch about how the session went with the other therapist. I don’t want that to be the focus of each session. It will be ridiculous and a waste of my time. As it is, she still wants to know every fucking detail of what goes on with my psych appointments. If she wants to know that badly, maybe she should accompany me to them, for crying out loud. I think that is to waste time on her part so we don’t have to talk about other matters.

I remember a time when before my suicidality clouded everything we did, she used to be able to center me and give me real therapy. We had a good working relationship. And we still had it even though we talked over the phone the majority of the time. Then something happened and she blew of course. Symptoms of my PTSD were listened to but no advice given, same with the anxiety issues that popped up with the pain levels increasing. Seemed that we spent more time talking about my damn pain syndrome than about therapy itself and what would work for me. Each session, we just went with the flow while my suicidality flew out of control. She could barely contain it anymore and I was just going from one death date to another, searching for hope that just wasn’t there anymore. Her love and care for me were enough to save my ass from my self-destructiveness. This is something I have told her time and time again but again it fell on deaf ears. She felt it was enough because she was the therapist and I was the client and that meant we had the unbroken rule that I wasn’t to die by suicide by any means, no matter that my life turned into a whirlwind of pain and despair.

Sometime this year, when I became psychotic after my father’s death, I became disconnected from those around me. I still feel disconnected. It’s not that I don’t know I am loved or cared for. It’s just that I can’t feel these things, only sadness, depression, and misery. The physical pain takes care of the rest. I have tried to feel more connected but I just don’t feel it. It’s hard to empathize and sympathize with those around me. I feel like I am giving people the cold shoulder most of the time and I don’t mean to because that is just not who I am. I have bouts of crying that come out of the blue with no feelings attached to it. It’s strange to feel so much feeling and not know what the fuck they are but tears continue to roll down my face. I know part of it is the grief that I have not felt since my father’s passing. When he died, I shed not one tear for months now. I just am not in touch with my feelings anymore, hence this disconnection I feel.

My therapist thinks it’s because of the psychosis and anti-psychotic med that are causing this to be so. She called it the “negative symptoms of psychosis”. I still have no idea what the hell that means. I could look it up but I really don’t want to know. Funny, I used to know psychotic symptoms like the back of my hand but that was years ago and now I just have forgotten. I haven’t discussed the issue with my psychiatrist because I don’t think it’s worth the time to be discussed. I am not worried about it and frankly don’t care. I rather feel disconnected anyways. It’s safer than having feelings.

Incompetence and needs: A story of transference

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

Incompetence and needs: A story of transference

My therapist read my Thanksgiving Eve blog and was basically horrified to find that she is inadequate for my needs. She wanted me, again, to see another therapist that was local as seeing someone in person on a regular basis might be more helpful to me. I nixed the idea because I don’t want to start over with someone new. She said it would be more as an adjunctive way. I don’t give a fuck, I am not setting out to see a new therapist. Then she brought up the whole CBT therapist idea. Nixed that too.

It got me thinking about what I need from my therapist. Frankly I don’t know. We have been struggling with my suicidality for so long that it just goes on without a resolution. It got me thinking about the CAMS philosophy and frankly, even though my therapist has been collaborative, she really hasn’t been. She acts more like a friend than a therapist at times. It has been driving me crazy since she took up the majority of the session with her guilt talk, whether it was directed towards me or her, I am not sure. She feels like she is failing me. Hence her incompetence.

There is more to solving suicidality than filling out the SSF forms. Again she brought up if she only knew how to get me to “open up” and write the answers she needs on the stupid forms, she will feel better. But that is not how it works. The SSF just provides you with problems that need solving so that you don’t end your life. The therapist and client are to work together to solve these issues so that life becomes more tolerable rather than intolerable, a “life worth living”. I’m never going to reach that stage of treatment because maybe I am too stubborn to give up my suicidality long enough to find a life worth living. I just go about my daily business of drinking coffee, writing this blog, taking care of my family and then dealing with a stupid therapist twice a week that drives me absolutely fucking insane with her idiocy.

Maybe we have been together too long and can’t see the forest for the trees. We are wrapped up in something and our path has gone so far astray that we just can meet anymore eye to eye. Maybe we are too close because my heart was really breaking today while she was droning on and on about seeing another therapist and how she was basically failing me. Yes, she is a pain in the ass. She is an idiot, but who isn’t really? I texted her that tomorrow will be our last session. I seriously doubt she will take me seriously. I don’t even know what no therapy will look like. I don’t want to know but what else can I do? Go on with a therapist that hates me on some level for calling her out?

Usually you bring up stuff and it gets dealt with and then you move on from it somehow, someway. A few years ago, we were at this impasse. The same issues were covered today. They haven’t moved on because they haven’t been dealt with. I know what needs to be done but I am just too much of a chicken shit. And there we have the needs piece again. I could list them and they would have NOTHING to do with the list from Shneidman. But I feel insecure and my therapist, even though she won’t admit it, does too. That was evident today and it was killing me inside. It broke my heart.

I know I have called my therapist a lot of names in this blog today, but I still believe she is right for me because we have a connection. Granted right now, that connection is a little frail but we are still tethered. The last time we talk about this, we went over Shneidman’s needs. He had 20 of them and I think I boiled them down to less than 10 that affected me, because part of his theory was that frustrated needs causes suicidal thinking. A lot has happened to me this year, more than any other year to date. Problem is that we just talk about shit in circles and we just go around and around because we are just on this merry-go-round that doesn’t have a stop.

People go to therapy for different reasons. I have a whole slew of them that are basically being neglected and possibly fueling my suicidality. I could list them but if you read my blog or my tweets every day you can probably figure out what the major ones are. I know my therapist can’t do shit about my physical pain, neither can my psychiatrist. I have trauma history, a death in my family that still hasn’t been quite dealt with, PTSD that I don’t think is managed, etc. just to name a few. I read blogs from fellow friends that suffer the same kinds of things that I struggle with yet they are dealing with differently. One of my blog friends has severe PTSD and has anxiety that tears her apart at times. My anxiety, though not a principle symptom, has becoming more of a problem lately because of my damn pain syndrome. It drives me to suicidal thinking. And there is no cut off valve when that level has been reached. So far I have managed but I still plan and strategize my suicidal plan because it comforts me to know I have a way out. I still don’t know what is going to happen this week. I know I have put off my plan but it’s back on again because, why the hell not if my therapist is pulling away from me, even though she says she is not.

In my head, I think I have spoiled my therapist. I bring her treats and indulge in her fantasy that I won’t kill myself. Maybe we both are trapped in that fantasy because I am still here either way you look at it. I have tried to bring her the reality my death will bring and even tried to say if I die, here is the help you need to find. I once brought her an article about it that she refused to read. She doesn’t think I will kill myself. Maybe that is what is keeping me going but it is also draining me to keep up this front week after week. I want to die very badly, to get away from myself because there are so many things I can’t stand about me. Being in pain every single day and night is also taxing me. Knowing the fact that my pain syndrome has changed course on me hasn’t helped matters. All I can do is what the voices tell me to do at the end of the day. So far I have ignored them, but one of these days, I will give in and things will finally be at peace. For me anyways.

Lost in the Echo

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

Lost in the Echo

Well, my pain has intensified. The pain meds have helped but the physical pain has been replaced by neuropathic pain. I can’t win today. It’s way too early to take my night meds. I can take my Neurontin and hope to stop the burning pain that I am feeling. I don’t care if it makes me dopey. I got no where I need to be tonight. I just need to be extra careful if I should go back downstairs to use the bathroom or to eat something, should I get hungry.

I emailed my psychiatrist because I was feeling horrible. I was going to page her but then I started crying and would be inaudible as I have this mother of a cold. I was feeling better with it until I started crying. Now my nose is clogged up. I really hate being sick, but fortunately, I know it will pass. Unlike my damn foot pain. I told my psych I wanted to remove the offending metatarsals. But they are the major structures in the foot and it would be severely hard to walk without them. At this point, I don’t really fucking care. I just want the pain to stop.

I texted my therapist on what my plan was. I didn’t tell her it was off the table because the way I feel right now, I could do it and hope to choke on the pills before they try to kill me. Terrible way to die but at least it would accomplish the goal. I am a miserable fuck right now so please don’t judge me on these wild ideas. I am trying to distract myself with music and writing this blog while I still can before I succumb to sleep. Least I hope I will. Sometimes my meds knock me out and other times they keep me up. I never know what it is going to be. And it sucks. Usually during the day my meds make me tired and during the evening, they make me hyper. No rhyme or reason for this. It is just the way it works. I really think PTSD keeps me from sleeping at night because I get so racked up in anxiety it prevents the meds from making me drowsy.

I would have my therapist call me but that sometimes proves difficult as she has a busy schedule. I talk with the idiot tomorrow anyways. I am sure it’s going to be “fun”. I don’t know if she read the last couple of blogs I sent her. I hope she did because I think they are important and she always wants to know what is up. If she hasn’t read them, I give up. I don’t know why I bother sometimes. Lately, my blogs haven’t been long, winded ones so I don’t understand why she can’t read it. Then she’ll want me to read it to her and I torture her by saying no. My revenge.

I thought of writing something for my book. The Daily Word Prompts have given me some starting points but unfortunately, I don’t have my writing pad on my bed. I have been meaning to get it but not today. And it’s not risk extra pain to get it. Writing on a notepad helps me better than writing on a word doc. I don’t know why that is. I think it’s because I don’t get annoyed if I spell something wrong and have a red line under it. It stops the word flow because I have to change/fix it. Least after I have written something on my pad and then I am typing it up (providing I can read my handwriting clearly) I can edit or make changes as I go. Usually in a word doc, I don’t do that until I read it months later. Drives me crazy.

I feel like I am being punished by being in chronic pain. For what exactly, I haven’t figured that out yet. It could be all my swearing, not going to church, despising my father on his death bed. You name it. Being transgender. I read today the horrors of how homosexuals have been treated in the past and continue to be in certain countries. It makes me so sad yet so suicidal. I feel like I can never be who I am meant to be because of fear of not only being discriminated against but also be tortured for it.

I had ordered a DVD and it was supposed to be delivered today but there is some kind of delay. It’s a bummer because I really wanted to watch it. Now I think I will watch “It’s a Wonderful Life” and break my tradition of just watching it near Christmas. There are a few movies that I have to watch around Christmas. The Grinch (cartoon version), A Christmas Carol, Home Alone, and It’s a Wonderful Life. I still would love to own the version of the Christmas Carol with Patrick Stewart. I haven’t been able to find it, yet. Not like I have looked really hard. Maybe I will get it as a birthday gift if I make it through the holidays without a hospitalization. I feel like going back to Netflix so I can watch some Friends shows. I canceled the subscription because I wasn’t on it all the time and I couldn’t justify one night a month watching it for the price. I rather read a book than watch a TV show or movie. Hence why I have so many damn books to read.

Which reminds me, I still have 7 books I need to read by the end of Dec. I’d read now but I am kind of dopey and my concentration is lax because of the medication. I really should try and sleep but I know if I do, I will be up all night and that won’t be good. Then I will be sleeping all day tomorrow. It won’t make for a good therapy session. I have 3 books I am actively reading. I just go from one to another each day, but I haven’t touched Dostoevsky since Sept I think. The book was annoying me because it just talks without going anywhere. I don’t know when I am going to finish it, but it certainly won’t be within the next month. There are too many chapters to read. The other books I am reading are interesting but my concentration varies. I try to read at least 2 chapters instead of one but it’s getting difficult with my pain being so damn painful. It makes me just want to hide under the covers and not do much else. Or just read Twitter or Facebook. Then I am really doing nothing. I feel bad about not reading because I have a shitload of time on my hands so it’s not like I don’t have time. It’s just getting to it that is the hard part.