What if

What if

What if I were to say that I was suicidal? Would you be aghast, fearful, judgmental, concerned? Would you try and help me sort through what ever was going through my mind? Or would you tell me things like snap out of it, keep your chin up, things get better, least you don’t have cancer, or the many rhetorics that are said to keep mental illness at bay because it’s too shameful to see in another person. Would you think that I have lost my nut, that I am crazy for thinking such a thing?

These are the things I ponder as I go through my daily chronic pain ritual. It’s not fun and suicidal thinking is a part of my thinking process because I don’t want to live in agony every day. I think those that have suffered from chronic pain every day knows what I am talking about but they may think of suicide in passing because they have loved ones they think about and how the deed will affect them. Or they may have an animal that they don’t want to suffer because of their loss.

Suicide is not something to be ashamed of or to be scared of. Everyone has at one time thought of ending their life for one reason or another. Some may have even gone ahead and planned or attempted it.

I bring this up not to bring worry to my friends and family, but for you to think about it the next time you post the “someone is always listening” post with the suicide hotline number. These post mean an awful lot to me because they would not be posted even five years ago. For those thinking about suicide, you are not crazy and you are not alone. There is help out there. All you need to do is reach out to find that sympathetic ear. If you to get the stupid rhetoric, seek someone else’s ear. Keep reaching out until you find someone who cares.

grumpy mood and irritable

Grumpy mood and irritable

I woke up late and barely had time to catch the bus for my psych appointment. I was not happy that I slept so late. That started my day off to a bad start. Then after I finished putting my brace on, I realized I forgot my jacket in my office. I had to go up the stairs to get it. While going down the stairs to leave the house, my ankle freaks out. That put me in a better mood. NOT. I took a pain pill before leaving my room so I couldn’t take another pill until later.

I was hoping to get coffee before my appointment. Everything annoyed me today. There were four fucking strollers on the bus. Two Arabic women speaking their language, one at one end of the bus, the other at the other end. I just wanted them to shut the fuck up. There was no reason for them to be shouting. Whatever it is, it could wait till they were off the damn bus. Then one of the kids started crying. I just wanted off the damned bus. I got my coffee and my favorite person at Starbucks didn’t charge me for my espresso. I was happy. It was the only good thing that happened today.

I met with my psych. She was concerned about me, not like I haven’t given her reason to be. I told her my plan was off the table unless I found another lethal method. She wanted to discuss things if I did find one. I said ok. We talked about the new therapist that I could be seeing. I will call her on Monday to see how it goes. I hope she is taking new clients. I will be really sad if she isn’t taking them. Then we talked about my therapist that I will be ending soon. I told her I was putting an end to it as my therapist won’t. And I won’t have the stupid termination sessions that she wants. That just makes it harder. Fuck her anyways for not setting up a therapist for me before she decided to make things monthly. I am still pissed off at her for doing this so now Wednesday will be our final session, I don’t fucking care. She is not talking me into another one no matter how much she begs.

My psychiatrist wants to see me next week. I told her I would probably go into the hospital the following Monday. I just feel so defeated that I can’t kill myself. I am such an idiot. We talked about books that I have been reading. I might take a Neil Gaiman book in the hospital with me. I still have a bag that is packed. Now I just have to have some excuse for my family when I go in.

My ankle is really sore and I don’t think my regular pain meds are going to work. I might have to take the strong pain pill. I wanted to shower today but it’s not in the cards. I also wanted to take my nieces out for dinner Sunday. Those plans are tentative right now. Course, the way I feel right now, I just want to nix the whole idea and make it some other time. I really don’t want to be away from my bed with my ankle hurting me the way it is right now. I am in a terrible mood and really just want to fucking die. Sometimes I wish just by wishing it, it could come true. Takes the whole suicide thing to a new level.

I really am tired of being in pain all the fucking time. Being in this much pain this early in the day is not a good thing. I am basically stuck on my bed. I hope I don’t have to use the bathroom because that will just increase my pain as I need to go up and down stairs. I really hate what my life has become. Maybe if I save enough money I can hire someone to kill me.

fucking pissed off with good reason

Fucking pissed off with good reason

So I planned my death, went through the motions, prepared my will (still not finalized), bought my meds that I need, and then today I double checked the research. The med I thought would kill me even at the dose on some end of life website, was wrong. I would get very sick but not die. Fucking great. I am glad I am find this out now and now on my date that I planned on taking my life because waking up in the ICU or the next morning would anger me more. So the plans are off. Unless I can get a sharp fucking knife to stab myself to sever arteries, which I don’t think I have the guts to do.

I am beyond bullshit. But I know some of you are thankful for not going ahead with my stupid plan. But let me have my pity party because I wanted to end my life. I thought about this for over a month and now it’s crushed out like the butt end of a cigarette. I might still OD on something on my date, not enough to kill me but enough to knock me out for a few hours.

I get to return the pills I bought because I didn’t think I had enough. Least I will get some money back. I can’t get the other box refunded because I already disposed of evidence. So now I don’t know what to do with myself. I hate myself for being a fool. I have no therapist I can vent to about this, just my stinking blog. I don’t know who reads this pile of dung anymore. I am kind of tripping on pain meds right now so please forgive the idiocy of my comments. They are more directed towards me and my shitty writing than you, the readers who I know are good people.

Now I get to live my life in pain, isn’t that just wonderful? It’s a gas. I had to take the strong pain pill early tonight because the pain was so bad and I couldn’t take my regular pain meds yet because it was too early. There has to be a better way to manage. I am seriously contemplating asking my doc for the $60/month pain pill that might help me. It might cause other problems like the strong pain pill does but at least I will get longer pain relief than a few hours here and there. This expensive pain pill is supposed to last 12 hours. It would be perfect for the night time hours because then I wouldn’t have to wake up at 3 in the morning to take another dose of meds because they wore off. Or wake up in severe pain at god knows what hour because my meds have wore off. It would certainly help my PTSD anxiety if I wasn’t in agony all the time. And most of the time it’s the anxiety keeping me up more than the pain.

So, readers, you get more blogs until I figure out a better way to end my life or I decide to actually live life, which I doubt. Thank you for reading.

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