Tag: suicide

you should not kill yourself when you are suicidal

by Midnight Demon, posted in depression, mental disorders, mental illness, suicide, suicide attempt

Nothing interesting happened today. I just thought I would write about some more ramblings. I am feeling pretty down and I know the reason I just can’t do anything about it and it is killing me. I had written something about myself that is deeply personal but I keep writing about it and then erase it after I write a few sentences. I really wonder what my life will be like to live openly as who I am and not what I am. I really don’t think that is possible. I once considered it but it takes too much of an effort to confront those demons that are hurting me so. I still think that a fragile self is better than a whole one. I am too weak to fight these demons this stage of my life. I really feel that if I did I would fall apart and never be whole again. It takes all I have to live through each day and not break down and cry. I just cannot bare the thought of continuing to live a lie to myself. I must find a way or it will destroy me and I fear that self destruction is better than life itself.

I have been writing a synopsis of Baumeister’s Suicide as Escape from self. I find that it resonates with me on the deepest level. Yet as close as his words are to my real life throughout his jargon, I can make sense of why he feels that escape of self is the heart of suicide. And it is. I just want to escape into oblivion, where I do not think anymore, I have no feelings whatsoever, and am totally as he says, irrational. I am listening to Adele and wondering if I will ever be happy as she is. I won’t. being happy is not a part of my personality. Suicide has become my career and one day it will take my life. I cannot live with these feelings of self-loathing and hate for too much longer. It really strikes at my soul at the despise I feel toward myself. There is a song by the counting crows of how can I get myself away from me…that pretty much sums up Escape from self in a nutshell…

Is it wrong to want to die? I know in my heart of hearts that I will die by my own hand, it is a certainty that I am willing to live with but will others ever be on the same page as me. The all want me to live because they think I have a higher purpose in this life than the one I am living but I do not share their sentiments. I really think that by killing myself, I will be free. I will no longer suffer and that is truly what all suicidal people want, they want their suffering to end because it is too painful to continue to breathe life.  The only thing stopping me is well, I am not really sure what is stopping me. I guess I just have not been so suicidal that I really feel like acting on it. But then, according to the big suicidologists, you should not kill yourself when you are suicidal. So what do you do when you want to die but are not feeling suicidal??

A Positive Blog

by Midnight Demon, posted in cauda equina syndrome, CES, depression, medical, mental disorders, mental illness, mood disorders, suicide, suicide attempt

I don’t know what to call these blogs that are just my random thoughts and think ramblings is better than just “random thoughts”. I tend to go off topic, if there is one or when I don’t think there is one so ramblings is more on target than another random.  But if it was just random, I would just call it random, wouldn’t I? But as the title suggests, I am rambling now as I am writing this…

today I get an email from a friend asking me to be part of an editorial board in the organization I am a member of. I am STOKED. This is my first attempt at this blog being a positive note as today was an extremely siked day. Not only did this person ask me to write for this column, soon to be named, but being part of the editorial board on suicide attempters is important to me on so many levels. I struggle on a daily basis with my suicidality, I would have what Maris would call a “suicide career” so to do some thing positive with my negative energy is HUGE. I just hope I don’t let people down with this opportunity. I have never edited any one’s work, just my own but I think I have the knack for grammar and the like. I am not an English major, never was as it is kind of boring, but I have picked up a few things with a creative writing course I took in college. I don’t remember if I finished it or had to withdraw. My college transcripts tend to be filled with more W’s than grades because depression would hit mid-semester and I had to choice which class of the 2 I could pass with a fairly decent grade. I was working full time and going to school part time and it was a struggle for me with my illness. It really killed me when I had to pull the plug in 2008 because my psychosis got so bad and the meds weren’t working plus going into the hospital because I was so delusional was not fun. The meds always made it hard to think so I ended up having to take an incomplete which is now an F because I never went back to school. Some genius I turned out to be.

the second positive thing today was that my psychiatrist asked me to be part of her 1st yr med student course. She has asked me to sit with a group of 1st year medical students and have them ask me questions about my medical condition. I find it fun. The first year I did this I told them about the chronic pain I was having and I think I made an impact on them with my honesty about chronic pain and depression that follows. These are going to be the doctors of tomorrow so it is cool to be a part of this learning process.

Then the nerve condition I had made my day suck! I had a little incontinence of the bowels that made all these positives go away in a heart beat. I just wanted to die with the indignity of it all. How could so many things go right and then this happen? Because I cannot feel myself go to the bathroom because of nerve damage to my cauda equina nerves, that is why. I have what is known as Cauda Equina Syndrome (CES), post. It really sucks because all the nerves that control bowel function and bladder function are affected. It sucked today because for some reason I had the runs and that is always *fun*.  I am literally afraid to fart for fear of Sharting myself. SO now all I can think about is ways of killing myself but then I re-read the emails from my doc and my friend and it kind of helped because if I do kill myself, I can’t be part of the learning process. I can’t be a part of the editorial board for this organization that means so much to me. And I would have let my friends down with my death and I am sure as hell sure that my friend in SA would be lost without me and take his life because I am not around to stop him. I really love you my friend and I can’t bear the thought of you ending your life because I ended mine. So maybe today is a new day where I have suicidal feelings but thinking of the positive helps me to see the light at the end of the tunnel despite desperately wanting to throw in the towel.

Weather, Baseball, and Mood

by Midnight Demon, posted in depression, suicide

10-Sept-12

People often wonder if the weather affects one’s mood. From my experience since having an arthritic spine and suffering from mental illness, weather can certainly affect both. On sunny days, my pain from arthritis is less when the temp is between 40-60 degrees. I tend to like colder weather than hot/warm. I am a New Englander, born and raised in Boston so adapting to temperature fluctuations is a necessity. It might be 50 degrees one day and 70 degrees the next. Although I try to keep track of baramotric pressure, pain is usually my gauge.  The day before thunderstorms I am stuff and will have right hip pain, sometime with pain down the legs.

My mood on the other hand is quite the opposite of what the weather will be. On sunny days I am gloomy and downhearted. Mostly because I do not like bright sunshine. It can cause me to get a migraine just on the brightness alone. On these days I tend to stay in bed or my room because artificial light doesn’t affect me as much as real light does. Being outside on bright days always makes me feel down for some reason. Soon as it’s cloudy my mood will brighten even if my pain is increased. Sometimes when it’s cold and damp I can be in a bad mood but only because my pain levels have spiked and usually because I am incapacitated by it. It’s no fun having to stay in bed when you want to go out because you can’t move.

But I have found that despite this, sometimes moving about is a good thing. I used to and still love walking in the rain. I;, more apt to go out on a dreary rainy day because it compliments my mood. Gray skies and overcast always makes me feel less gloomy. Granted I am not a happy person. Happiness, like sadness, is a feeling that is likely to dissipate with time. Contentment on the other hand is what I strive for because it’s more realistic than the despair and anguish that depression and suicidality brings. Relatively few things make me happy. A nice mocha latte from Starbucks with toffee nut and caramel, my Red Sox boys in a winning year (this year is gone baby gone), and baseball season. I have noticed a correlation between the end of baseball season (end of world series or Sox season) with sadness more than any other time of the year, that is until Feb when baseball season starts to begin to get underway. Some people will call this SAD but SAD ( Seasonal Affective Disorder) is usually between Nov-April. My depression increases the beginning of Oct (when the sox play their last game) through mid February, which is outside the SAD parameters. So I have what is called BAD-> Baseball Affective Disorder or BDD-Baseball Depressive Disorder. Neither of these diagnoses will unfortunately make its way to the DSM-V (diagnostical statistical manual). Baseball just is not worthy enough to be classified as a major or minor mental disorder. That truly is sad. My psychiatrist agrees with me as what do you do when baseball season is over? How do you survive until spring training? Five months is a long time to go without this wonderful past time.

What I find exciting is you never know what the pitcher is going to throw. He may hit the player, catcher, or umpire. The ball might be foul, a hit, or a pop out. This is what keeps me sane, Baseball is my livelihood because it is America’s past time. No baseball and my already sucky mood becomes gloomier than a rained out game. On the days my Sox are not playing I will watch whatever game is on. Even if it is the stupid Yankees or as Red Sox Nation calls then, the Skankees, well maybe not all of Red Sox Nation, just me.

But I digress from my original line of mood and weather. I know most people love sunshine and hear but I don’t. Give me a cold gloomy day and I will be happier than a pig in mud. Take today. It was bright when I left the house at 9 am this morning. Then by noon it started getting cloudy and looked like it was going to rain. When the first rays of light came through my window I was very grumpy. I didn’t want to get out of bed. When I did, I grumbled, didn’t even take a shower, wanted to end my life and despite all that still got dressed and left my house. When noon rolled around and saw that it was getting cloudy my mood shifted and I felt relief. My contentment come back. I was as grumpy and could face the rest of the day. The temperature was neither cold nor hot, probably in the mid 60s and it was windy. Sunlight and me do not get along. It really makes me depressed where as a cloudy sky will make me happy. And when you have major depression, you will take any happiness you can get, even if it is on a cloudy cold day.

Grief

by Midnight Demon, posted in depression, medical, suicide

Been struggling the past few days. I have been thinking of my friend in South Africa who is struggling right now with grief from the loss of his best friend and soul mate. His blog details the pain he is going through and it made me think of my own grief I have with the life I used to have. Of being able to walk without pain, life without taking any meds other than for psych, and being able to work without worry. Now I have no job, walking is no longer possible for long distances and yet I still think I can do it if only if I try harder. I tried for more than a year working two jobs that were physically and mentally exhausting. I went from working 60 hrs a week to nothing in 16 months. Now I don’t know if I can ever work again because soon as I get stressed or the pain levels get too high, I have a psychotic break and develop delusions that I believe are real. Like cutting my leg, I know it will not cure anything yet I can’t help but feel there is a foreign body in it causing the swelling and if only that swelling was cut open, I will be healed. But no doctor believes me. They just tell me to take my little pink pill to quiet the voices down and suddenly the delusions become just that and I realize just how fricken crazy I am. I know one day I will give in to the internal hell I face every day and try and open my leg up to see what is inside this lump on my leg. It is the cause of my grief, of my suffering this raised bump that some days you can’t see and others you can.  My friend has a different kind of grief but I know he suffers the same way I do with this bloody nerve condition we share. It has robbed us of our sanity, our livelihood, and our dignity. It bothers us more than we let on to people because we have to put a brave front on all the time and minimize just how bad the pain really is.

The other night I was contemplating ending my life in a few days time. I know I can really do it. I have the equipment and all that is needed is just a time and place. I know that I can really do it but do I want to leave my friends and family, who I know will be better off without me than with me living? I am tired of struggling every day, of breathing in and out and knowing nothing will change. My contentment period has expired and I want to expire too. I don’t understand why I should go on living when all I do is suffer. People have told me I am a good writer but so far it has not paid the bills and let me live a life that I can call my own. I just have trouble with the fact that I am so miserable. I am a negative person. I cannot be a positive when I do not see the light of day. Yet I just continue to stick around because my friend in SA needs me, my nieces and nephew need me, my therapist needs me.  I feel like such a hypocrite when I am trying to prevent suicides when the only one I am truly trying to prevent is my own. I read about suicide day and night and realize that I don’t know how I survived all the attempts I made over the years.  Reading about suicide makes me realize that statistically I should be dead. Yet I am not. Grief has frozen my heart to love again, and this nerve condition takes every ounce of strength not to throw in the towel after each day. I would love to work again and walk around the block without hurting. But that is no longer possible. I walk with an AFO (Ankle Foot Orthotic) and it is my help aid and my hindrance. People see that I am disabled. It has taken me a year to come to this conclusion and it sucks. Realizing you are disabled is no happy feat. It makes you wonder when you ever will be normal again and after 11 yrs of dealing with the pain and agony of nerve pain, I called UNCLE. I had enough. My friend, bless him, still keeps the fight to support his family and his friend’s son. He gets around in a wheelchair. He has more pain than I ever would dream of but the difference is that his is controlled better than mine. The US frowns upon narcotic use and so I am limited in my pain relief. I only take it when I have pain that is an 8 or higher and days when it is on the cusp of being an 8, I try to stick it out. I don’t do this because I like to be in pain. I do this because the stigma around pain medication makes me. My family doesn’t understand the difference between addiction and dependence. Actually few people do unless properly educated or if they also suffer from chronic pain. I can tell you I don’t misuse my meds. I don’t take it to feel high or to change the way I feel psychologically. I don’t take more than what I am supposed to unless I am close to being in a suicidal rage because my pain is up there and I can’t take it any longer. This means I am not addicted to it. I can go a few days without taking it, but barely longer than that. I can’t say I am dependent on it because on days I don’t take it I don’t notice being sick or worse than what I normally feel. I am chronically exhausted by pain and mental anguish that I hardly notice if I am dependent on the drug. My mind doesn’t think, oh I have not taken any pain meds today so why don’t I take it for the hell of it. I just don’t think that way. Some people do and that is a tragedy. And those are the people I am mad at because they ruin me getting the help I need from pain management doctors. If these doctors truly were able to help me with this and take care of my pain, I probably would NOT have had to file restrictions at work and then be out of work because those restrictions were not accepted by my employment.  That is why I am out of work, because I can’t walk around the lab anymore. It is like a huge city block and walking around and around for eight hours just about killed me. Hell after four hours I was ready to collapse in pain and sometimes I did. I’d have to leave in the middle of my shift because the pain got so bad or I had to rely on my coworkers to bring me work because I couldn’t get up off the chair and get it myself.  It was at times humiliating to be in that kind of pain and not have anything to take for it and then go home and suffer all night long. The hours I lost losing sleep were many.  I would get some relief after a few hours sleep but then it would be time for me to go to work my next shift. I sometimes would call out if I felt I didn’t get enough sleep. You can’t be dealing with a person’s lab values and have no sleep that could cost them their life because I am too sleepy to pay attention. What is worse I could not take any pain meds while working so I had to suffer through my shift without any relief. It sucked big time but I had to be alert in my duties. I had to stay sharp.  As much as I sometimes hated my job, I do miss it. I miss some of the people I have developed close relationships with over the years I worked there. I miss the routine of work. This is my grief and it hurts like hell