taking a friend’s advice and other things

Taking a friend’s advice and other things

A dear friend of mine said to let the AC rest for four hours and then turn it back on. So I turned it off and I am sweating my ass off while it’s resting. It’s after midnight and I can’t sleep despite putting on the white noise thingy that I use for sleep. I have been dependent on the AC noise for so long that I had no idea it was part of my sleep routine. I can’t sleep in dead silence. It’s too creepy.

My foot pain acted up an hour or so ago. I have been really bad on drinking today despite the heat so I had some almond milk that had the necessary salts that I needed. I still have a headache but I think that is because I am in a very warm, humid room. I hope I am not up for the next four hours but I might be. There is no point in leaving my room as it’s hotter in my house than my room, unfortunately. I still plan on getting a new AC unit next week because I think it will help my electricity bill. The unit I have now just sucks electricity really bad. It’s at least 5-6 years old. Only trouble I have will be getting the new sucker to my room. It’s 50 lbs so there is no way I can carry it up two flights of stairs. I will have to have my brother in law install it for me.

I have thought about watching a movie. Sadly, what I want to watch ends on a teary note so I don’t want to cry at the end. I could watch Titanic as I have seen it a million times but it’s so damn long and I am afraid I don’t have the patience to watch it, not while I am hot and cranky.

Yesterday would have been the perfect day to end my life if I had any brains. The temp was nice and cool. I have been thinking a lot about how to do this. I think I will leave a letter in my wallet that says what to do if I am found. I don’t want heroic measures. But I feel that I should at least leave a contact information with whoever finds me so they know who to call.

Frustrated and worthless

I had therapy today. We talked about my suicidality and the whole burden of being in pain every single day. I told her I just feel frustrated and worthless. I also told her that the voices have been telling me to die. That lead to a conversation about how much trilafon am I taking and I told her I was rationing it because I will run out if I take more than two a day, least until my psychiatrist is back from vacation. She nearly had a stroke when I told her. I don’t really care. I told her she should just dump me and she said no. She wanted my assurance that I wouldn’t kill myself while she was away and I said “yea”. That was all I could muster.

The session took a lot out of me. I pretty much just took my pain meds and slept the rest of the afternoon. Seems to be my new normal now. It was raining fairly heavily for most of the day so I didn’t venture out. My ankle was killing me anyways. I just gave up and let the pain meds take me to Morpheus. I had a dream about my father. We were at the hospital and then he disappeared on me. When I found him, he was sitting next to my mother. Odd. I don’t remember her being at the hospital but anyways, I found him. I was really late for my appointment because of him going missing on me. Then he had to go to the bathroom so I took him. Then I woke up. This has to be the third or fourth dream I have had of my father since he died.

I still am feeling suicidal and my therapist brought up that I should probably go to the hospital if the voices are out of control. She didn’t get that I don’t fucking care anymore. I just want to die and have this so called life over with. I didn’t tell her my plans, though I stupidly admitted I had one. I am glad she is on vacation for the next two weeks. She does want me to write to her in some form while she is gone. Maybe send her a blog or two to read when she comes back. Yea, she will not read it so I am not going to send it. While I was cleaning out my “junk” hamper, I found a notebook that said “Bozo letters” and the date. I might write in that and then when I see her the end of the month, give it to her. I forgot I started it three years ago. I think the intention was to write in the notebook and then mail it to her as I wasn’t seeing her in person at the time. How I would get the notebook back, I never quite worked out.

Sometime this week I need to change my sheets again. And again I have a pile of shit on the corner of my bed. I don’t know how stuff accumulates there. It’s not office stuff. That stuff is near me at all times. It’s just a pile of prescription receipts that need to be shredded and other pieces of mail.

The PT place called this afternoon to remind me I have the appointment on Friday. I had every intention of calling back and canceling but my sleep overtook the afternoon. Now it’s too late and I need to call tomorrow morning. I just hope I am up in the morning. My track record for being up before 10 or 11 hasn’t been good lately. I didn’t even make coffee today, I was so tired. I didn’t go to sleep till around 0400. I just couldn’t sleep last night. Pain was just too bad.

exhausted from being tired

exhausted from being tired

It’s another night of pain so of course I am up. I am so tired and exhausted from fighting pain all the damn time. You think I would be able to sleep. Lately, I have been taking my pain meds with coffee to fight off the drowsiness effect of the pills. I do this to avoid sleeping all day but then I have nights, like tonight, where I can’t sleep.

I have been thinking more about my plan. I have been crying most of the night because I know I will be hurting everyone around me and then some. I keep having this argument in my head of what my therapy session will be like tomorrow. I told my therapist in a text I was done. That things were over. I was half expecting a response but I didn’t get one. Then I texted her that I would have cancelled session but it was too late to do so. I told her I might not be in the mood to talk, pretty much like I was today.

I don’t really know when I will go through with my plan. I know it’s not going to be this week because it’s too damn hot. I want the weather to be cooler as the place that I have chosen is outdoors. I thought about writing a will tonight but I was too tearful. All day I have been tearful, which is weird because it takes so much for me to cry. I guess the pain has finally broken me down.

My sister texted me earlier about a party they are having for my uncle. I guess she was inviting me to go. But I hate going over there because that means an all day affair and I really don’t want to spend more than a couple of hours at my cousins. I will just be bored. I can be bored at home. Besides, more than a few hours sitting or standing for any length of time always brings me more pain in my leg. Sorry Uncle Bob but I can’t see you because my pain is too great. Just another reason for me to off myself.

I kind of feel like I should hang around till after the election to find out who will win. Trump made a huge blunder today and his supporters are all covering for him saying “he didn’t mean it that way”. Like hell he didn’t. Then he tweeted saying “what he meant to say”, which made no fucking sense. It was an outright lie. Yet he has the audacity to call Clinton a liar. My vote won’t count because I’ll be fucking dead. I know I definitely don’t want to be around for the shitshow when the baby loses nor be around should he win. The country will be going to hell and war. Such a sad state of affairs and then they wonder why the suicide rate is so high. I think there was another suicide tonight on the red line. There was a medical emergency that called for shuttle bus services so I can only guess there was a jumper.

It’s a strange feeling when you have the power to end your life whenever you want to. I know that I could go to the hospital but for what exactly? Hospitals haven’t exactly proven to save lives, not when it comes to suicide anyway. They usually precipitate a suicide. The only regret that I have is that I won’t be finishing my reading challenge for the year. I was so looking forward to reading at least 40 books this year and unless I spend every waking moment reading in the next few weeks, I just don’t see it happening. I have 25 books to go. I have no idea what will become of the books I do have. Some of them are brand spanking new. I suppose they can be donated to the library. I know that my suicide books I want donated to my therapist. She should have a suicide library. It won’t be doing me any good anymore.

I keep thinking about how to tell my psychiatrist goodbye. That is going to be tough and tricky. I have known her longer than I have known my therapist. I have written her multiple goodbye letters over the course of my suicidality. I never once gave her any of them. The last email that I sent her that was sort of a goodbye she sectioned me so I have been cautious about giving her letters such as these. I give too soon and I could be found and hospitalized against my will.

I have noticed a pattern over the years. Every year between August through October I become wicked suicidal, more so than at any other time of year. It has been going on since I was a teenager. Back then, you could expect to be admitted for months. Now you are lucky to be admitted for more than a week. This time, I am not going to be admitted, I am just going to follow through with my ideas. I am tired of living. I am tired of being in severe physical pain. I am too complex to be taken seriously by my practitioners. My therapist said with bated breath today that she loved me. I could tell it wasn’t really true because she really hesitated before saying it. It was like she had to prepare herself to say it quickly so to get it out of the way. I will miss her. I know my death will destroy her but I can’t help that. I tried to get her to get rid of me years ago but she still held on. It’s her fault it will hurt. I told her she could leave at any stage of the game. Now the game is over, I’m afraid. Stalemate.

Locked Doors

I had therapy today. I had texted her late last night telling her I was pissed at her because she didn’t call me. I felt like she didn’t care anymore. She texted me this morning to say sorry and that she didn’t get my voicemail message until this morning. I really didn’t feel like talking to her. I was in such a mood. I woke up weepy and was crying for at least a half hour for no reason at all. I was in pain again so I might have just felt defeated. I would have taken my pain meds but I couldn’t as I had to talk to my therapist in two hours.

I wanted to tell her how poorly I felt last night and how suicidal I was but I just couldn’t bring myself to. I did mention that I was suicidal but she didn’t inquire about it so I just let it go. I thought it was funny that she said I had walls all around me. She also said that when there is a topic I don’t want to talk about I “lock the door and throw away the key”. I felt like saying, isn’t it your job to find the key and open the door?

We have tomorrow’s session as out last session before she is on vacation for two weeks. I told her I might have PT but I am thinking about cancelling it because I just feel so hopeless. I mean, why bother if I am just going to kill myself in a few weeks. My writing friend told me today her friend’s sister died either by suicide or OD, which to her is suicide. The sister apparently got into drug use so it’s unclear what her intent was. I wanted to tell my friend that I would be going to, but I didn’t.

I emailed my psychiatrist last night and I started crying by the time I got to the end. I was just so frustrated by being in pain. I haven’t heard back from her. I don’t think I will. I had my coffee today so I won’t be going out. I don’t know when I will work on the Adler chapter. I just find it hard to think and concentrate on stuff in my room versus at Starbucks. It’s not like I am bothered in my room anymore than I am bothered at Starbucks. But it’s just a different feeling you get when you are out and about.

I woke up in pain again today as I think I have mentioned. It’s better now that I took my meds. I don’t know why I can tolerate the pain better during the day than I do at night. At night I just fall apart. For the second time in two weeks, I have seriously contemplated ending my life that night. If I had a vehicle, I know I wouldn’t be here right now. Last night all I did was brush my teeth and I was seized with pain. I couldn’t have been standing for more than five minutes and I was in so much pain as if I had been standing all day. It’s just getting intolerable. I see the NP this Friday and I know she isn’t going to do anything about it. She isn’t going to care that I get like this. She is just going to go over my med list and then print out my prescription and it’s going to be “have a nice day”. I have learned not to talk about my depression with her because she doesn’t get it. She thinks I should just exercise more or find a hobby. How the fuck can I do that if I can’t even fucking brush my teeth without pain? I am just fed up beyond what I can tolerate. I don’t even think a hospitalization would do me any good because no one care about my pain. They just care about the suicidality and my mood. Then once that “stabilizes”, I am discharged. I can’t wait to see my psychiatrist when she is back. Maybe then we can deal with this mess of pain and mental illness.

Last night I was ranting on Twitter. Someone asked if I had someone to talk to and I told them, why bother. That person didn’t respond back. Typical Twitter. You can never have a conversation, a serious one, on there. I don’t know why I post. I guess it’s easier than posting on Facebook.