Tag: suicide ideation

Saturday Blog 36

by Midnight Demon, posted in Bipolar Disorder, blogging, depression, mood disorders, suicide, transgender

Saturday Blog 36

I went to the Square and didn’t get stranded. I was so happy the bus came on time to take me home. I did a little bit of writing on my new story that I wrote almost a month and a half ago. It was the first time writing on it since I drafted it. The pen I was using ran out of ink, but I came prepared this time. I had two pens in my pocket, each a different colored ink. I didn’t care as long as I wrote something to this story. When not working on the whole of the story, I have a notepad by my bed that I write my ideas on. I will inject these ideas when I am typing up the whole.

It is fricken cold today, despite being close to 60 degrees. I just wore a T-shirt and it turned out to be a mistake. I should have worn a sweater. I had time to grab it but that would mean walking down the street I hate, going up two flights of stairs and then going down same flights of stairs, up the same street that I hate and wait for the bus. Wasn’t happening so I froze. I don’t know why Starbucks had the damn AC on. Maybe the place has to be kept a cooler temperature for the machines. We had to be kept cold in the lab because the analyzers ran so hot. So even on a cold winter day, the temperature in the lab was cold as well. I don’t ever remember the lab being kept warm, except by the machines. I didn’t care as I was always hot. It was very rare that I was cold due to the temperature of the lab. I wouldn’t wear shorts, but I always wore a T-shirt or short sleeved button down. I miss working in the lab. I wish I could work just a few hours but I know my ankle would act up even before I got to work and then by the end of the shift, I would be in more pain. I no longer have a car so going home by T would suck really bad. But it depends on what shift I would work. Preferably, I would love swing shift, this way I am not there early and I can get out early. But with my LTD, I can’t work at all and I can’t risk losing it in case working doesn’t work out.

It was stressful in the lab because of the high demand of patient samples on any given shift. During the week was the worse because of outpatient samples. They would come in by the truck load. And there was no keeping up until they stopped coming in. It had its moments though. I was a senior person, even though I never got the actual title for it. Even supervisors would come to me with questions on how to handle a difficult specimen. I seen it all, all types of body fluids, tissues, you name it, I probably saw it, except for body parts. That was another department.

My twitter buddy posted some stuff today that really got me angry. Apparently, there is a petition going around the internet wanted to remove the “T” from LGBT. As if being transgendered isn’t hard enough. They got like 1000 signatures. What fucking morons. What is next, removing the “B”? I don’t get it. I didn’t want to even look at the stupid petition because I knew it would upset me. I am already feeling like an outcast in my own skin, let alone to the LGBT community. I had a weird dream last night that I was thrown out of the house and I had to call this 800 number to get to Houston. My cousin lives in Houston and the number links to him. I would go there to live. It was the strangest dream I ever had. I guess yesterday’s blog really sunk into my subconsciousness. I have been meaning to call a transgender hotline, just to talk about being transgender but the hotlines are mostly for crisis and I am not in crisis. I would hate to take time up while someone who is in crisis needs to talk to someone. I wish they had email or something that I could use. It would be helpful to talk to another FTM. My brother in law’s nephew is FTM but he doesn’t like to talk about the specifics about his condition. He has been through so much discrimination and I hate to bring it up because he always seems to stand offish. One of my brother in law’s brother used to be gay, but gave “it” up when he became a Jehovah’s witness. I don’t know how you can give up your sexuality, but then I don’t understand that faith at all. He says he is depressed at times and I wonder if it is because he isn’t who he truly is meant to be. You can have a relationship with God or a higher power and still be gay. I just don’t understand. People do it all the time. I don’t have a relationship with God or a higher power. I guess it’s because of the way I grew up that I don’t believe in it anymore. I had one person tell me when I was at my lowest point that maybe I should seek out “his guidance” all because he prayed for me all the time. I got really mad because I felt like who are you to tell me this or tell me what I should or shouldn’t believe in. It was very upsetting to me.

But getting back to the transgender piece, I often feel so alone. I don’t have many gay or lesbian friends that I am close to. I never belonged in the community even when I went to the Boston Alliance of Gay and Lesbian Youth (BAGLY). I still felt like I was an outsider even among my peers. We had MTF leader but I never was able to get close enough to her to talk to her about how I felt. I just was a tomboy lesbian to the group. I didn’t know what being TG was until I was in my 30s. It was then that I realized part of the root of my suicidality was that I was the wrong gender. It was killing me and I had no idea. Every time I would get my menses, I would get seriously suicidal until I started bleeding. Then I would be “fine”. It got worse as time went on. I dreaded getting the menses every month and the suicidality just got worse. I split myself in two, the part that had to go on living and working to sustain myself and the other part to end my life because it had become so unbearable. All of this was before I found Shneidman and Jobes. I think if I didn’t find their work, I might not be here today. Ten years ago this month I made a plan to end my life. I went on business as usual until my therapist as what was really going on. I remember laughing at the question because I was so split. I was bored in therapy. I mean what was the point as I was going to kill myself. But she got to me and I made the decision to tell her my plans before I acted on them. I somewhat regret that decision at times. I know I regretted it a year later when I got hit with CES again. I think it was around this time that I was putting two and two together around being transgender and how much it was killing me not being who I was. It was killing me being a female, literally. The only thing that I wanted to do more than anything was to either have a hysterectomy or stop my menses. It took a couple years of trial and error with pills to get to where I am today. Even when I have to have break through bleeding every 4-5 months it doesn’t bother me as much as it did. It does bother me, but I am not suicidal over it.

I know there are FTMs out there. I just got to find them and hopefully they will accept me into their community. Being alone sucks and is so isolating. Even if I just had one person to talk to, that would be good. I hope I find that one person that doesn’t think I am a freak.

In Pain and Can’t Sleep

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

In pain and can’t sleep

I have been fighting pain since I came home. Soon after I finished my previous blog today, my middle finger knuckle started hurting. I took some aspirin hoping it would settle it down some. It did but then it wore off and is now hurting more than my damn ankle. If I move my finger, I am in more pain so I am trying to not move it too much. Good thing I don’t give people the finger too often, hehehe.

I have been listening to Pandora for the past couple of hours. It’s Terri Clark radio and it is a good mix of songs, older country to new. I love it. AND it plays Terri Clark songs, unlike the Jake Owen radio station I created. I created it to listen to Jake, and I got about 30 songs before I got to Jake. I also got people that weren’t country like Rhianna and someone else. I don’t remember the name. I think I will have to delete the station and start over.

I am very tired, more tired than I was when I wrote my other blog. But soon as I lie down, I wake up. I get restless and can’t lie down anymore. Yet when I am sitting up I can rest. It doesn’t make sense. I think I need to take an Ativan to get some sleep. I think I am nervous about tomorrow because I have to be up early to catch the 0949 bus. I should be awake by then but with this nervousness, I don’t know if I will be. I always get nervous that I will oversleep when I need to get up early. I set my alarm, just in case. If I get up before 7 but after 5, I will just stay up. If I wake up at 4 I am going to try and go back to sleep. I just don’t know how many hours I will be sleeping.

I keep plowing through my book “Dead Wake”. I find it so sad that there were warnings but no one headed them. It’s like the left hand didn’t know what the right was doing. And they thought for sure that no submarine was going to attack a civilian passenger liner. More people were killed on this boat than the Titanic. I don’t think there were any survivors, though I haven’t read the entire story, yet. I do know there were close to 2,000 dead. Just a sad story. And I am reading it for the history part and because I am a history person. I also like sunken ships and such. It is what drew me to the Titanic when they found her in 1984/5. To me, it was unimaginable that such a tragedy could happen but because it did, marine travel changed. Boats were fitted with lifeboats for ALL passengers and crew and radio communications were open 24/7. In the book, the captain of the ship ordered practice drills for lifeboats several times.

I need to get a card for my Godmother tomorrow as Wednesday is coming soon. I will try and get one while I am out and about in the morning. If I remember, maybe I will hit CVS before I hit Starbucks. I can’t believe how much my finger is throbbing. I hate arthritic pain. I hate pain in general, but arthritic pain has to be the worse because it just hurts whenever you move that joint. I am trying to keep my hand as stable as possible but I do have to flex my finger to type. It’s not really my finger that is aching, it’s the knuckle behind it. I had to take my ring off my ring finger to ease the pressure. It just sucks. And I can’t sleep because between my ankle and my hand/knuckle, I can’t fall asleep. I want to attack the donuts I bought. I know that is not going to help my pain but it will help something. But I don’t want to start eating when I am stressed because that isn’t a good thing.

Soon as my quote is published tonight, I am going to send it to my therapist. It fits with the theme of frustrated needs and suicide. Thing is, I don’t know why Shneidman uses succorance rather than love. The word is so old that Word doesn’t recognize it. I don’t know where the word has its origins. I like the history of words. I think it’s neat to know where a word came from, whether it be Latin or Greek or whatever. According to Merriam-Webster (aka Google) the word means dependence, especially a dependence on or an active seeking for nurturant care. It’s from the British, which probably explains why Word doesn’t recognize the word. So people who are looking for someone to care for them and don’t find it get frustrated and want to kill themselves. Makes sense, to me anyway. I am sure there are other mitigating factors other than this one need being thwarted that leads to thinking about suicide, however. Suicide is never just one thing. It’s usually a cascade of things that just comes to a head and you just can’t take anymore. Like being in excruciating pain every day and one day it just becomes too much to bear. That is when the planning starts and the time becomes shorter. You might act impulsively or it can be a planned event. I always have a planned event but my dates always get thwarted by my damn treaters. They still want me to stick around for to avoid THEIR pain, not mine. Maybe I will take that up with my psychiatrist tomorrow. Why she wants me to live when I am not sleeping and I am in so much pain it keeps me up and give me fucking anxiety. That to me is worse than being in pain in the first place. Thing I don’t understand is that when my pain is elevated, my BP and pulse rate aren’t. It’s strange. But I still want to die because I rather die than live this way anymore. I am only here to prevent other people’s pain and that is no way to live.

Quote of the Day 3 Nov 2015

by Midnight Demon, posted in Bipolar Disorder, blogging, depression, mood disorders, Quotes, suicide

There are many pointless deaths but never a needless suicide. Edwin Shneidman, Suicide as Psychache

Early Monday

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

Early Monday

I woke up at 0600. I really wanted to take a nap after I had breakfast, but I decided to get my haircut and then go to Starbucks to write this blog idea for my therapist. Barber shop that I usually go to was closed, vacation day. They won’t reopen until Thursday. So I went to the other one down the street and it didn’t open until 0930. It was 0840 when I left my house and I didn’t want to wait an hour. I waited for the bus to take me to my “happy” place. Luckily, the bus to the Square came about ten minutes later. Cool. Least part of my day was going okay. When I got to my “happy” place, I decided I wanted the Sumantra Longberry coffee. It’s strong but sweet, made sweeter with sugar and cream. It helped the fog that I was in.

I got out the writing materials to start my writing. I had just started writing half the frustrated needs in my notebook when my pen started to run out ink. I couldn’t believe it. I had another pen but it was a different color and I don’t like to mix colored ink when writing. There went my project. So I decided to try and write in my journal with the other pen that I had. I wrote about a paragraph when I just got tired and wanted to go home. I just missed the bus and the next one wasn’t for another 50 minutes or so. So I tried to write some more to pass the time. Forced writing is never a good thing. I thought more about the project. I also thought about going to CVS to get a new pen but decided if they didn’t have my pen, it wasn’t going to be worth buying. I am very particular about my pens. Lesson learned, always carry a backup pen even though you think you may not need it. Thing I don’t understand is that when I checked my pen’s ink supply, it was half way full so had plenty of ink to continue writing. But it was very light and then stopped writing all together. This is the second pen in this class of pens that I had to throw away because the ink just failed. I don’t get it. But I have plenty of pens that I bought so it can be easily replaced. Just sucks because I am wasting ink.

As I was riding on the bus, I thought about getting my haircut at the place further down the street. I didn’t go. They usually don’t cut my hair right and I always seem to get the big smelly guy. I just came home, which was a good thing because I had to go to the bathroom.

I am not as down as I was last night. But I am still feeling like there is a weight on my chest. It’s making it difficult to breathe so I have to take deep breaths to get air in my lungs. I hate when the depression has physical symptoms. I don’t know what is worse, having a heartache or a weight on your chest, feeling like a burden to those around you, or thinking that you just will be better off dead.

Despite it being warm outside, it’s cold in the house. My sensitive foot is frozen, despite being under several warm blankets. I haven’t put a sock on yet, but I am getting close to doing it. My ankle is also acting up because of my activities today. It started on the last block I was walking. For some reason, when I came home and came up the stairs, I got wicked out of breath. It took a good ten minutes for me to catch my breath. I have since climbed the stairs since then and didn’t feel short of breath afterwards. It’s so weird that it happens some of the time and not at others. I have noticed a pattern though. If I am walking and then go up the stairs, I get winded than if I was resting and then going up.