Tag: suicide

Terrible Night

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

Terrible night

I just watched, via Twitter, the first presidential debate in my life and it was horrible. I am really afraid of what is going to happen when Trump is not president. I think a civil war might break out or something else. I am very scared of these times.

Pain has come back. My foot is throbbing and burning me. I can’t take another dose of pain meds for another half hour. I am really depressed. On Twitter there was other talk about suicide and talking out about it. It’s kind of bullshit because if you do talk about it on social media, you might get the police at your door the next day. I also found out through the State Police there was a jumper off the Tobin. He is alive and was taken to the hospital. I feel bad for him.

I haven’t heard from my psychiatrist. I guess she hasn’t read my blogs yet. It bothers me that she hasn’t read them. I don’t know why. They are old news now, sort of. I still can’t believe that she gave me a 4 week appointment. I might be gone by the next time I am supposed to see her.

There is so much I want to write about how I am feeling but I am scared someone is going to call the cops on me if I write it. I just feel so low and suicidal. I am tired of living with pain. I can’t go on with this bullshit anymore. Tomorrow I have to go up the hill to get the car. It’s going to be a hike. I don’t know if I will be able to do it but it’s too late now to cancel the reservation. My other car that I have been using isn’t available so I had to go up the street rather than down. I will be wearing my AFO so hopefully there won’t be any problems.

I am nervous about seeing my therapist tomorrow. I know we need to talk about my suicidal stuff but I really don’t want to because she doesn’t listen all the time. She tends to talk too much and then I just shut down. She does this every single time I get suicidal. Then I get mad and we fight. I just don’t know what to do anymore. I just want to die. And I don’t get why she wants me to live. She keeps saying that she can’t imagine a world without me in it. She doesn’t understand how tiring it is to live when you don’t want to. I’m not saying it’s easy to give up because I have tried to kill myself many times and failed. I just want to try one more time and if it doesn’t work, then I will stop trying. If I should succeed, then so be it. It was meant to be.

This talk is what is going on in my head. I know that it will hurt many people in my life. I am not stupid about the pain suicide causes. But living while being in pain is worse. It tears you up like you won’t believe. And there is no relieving this pain, this psychache. There was a time where I kept track of it. I had a scale that I used. But my physical pain overshadows my emotional pain so it’s become useless to me. There are other assessments used for the treatment of suicide but my therapist is a fink and won’t use them. She just want to know the “one thing” that will make me less suicidal and that is all she gets from the forms. Drives me crazy.

bubbles, torments, and suicide

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

Bubble, Torments, and Suicide

I don’t think I am going to get to sleep tonight. I am in severe pain again. I wish I could fall asleep like my body wants me to but my head and pain are keeping that from happening. I am not only in physical pain, but I am also in emotional pain. I have that darkness in my chest again and it’s weighing on me severely. It’s making things hard to see clearly. Everything is dark. I am again thinking of taking my life because of this darkness. I can see no other way through it, this time.
I have been taking my pain meds around the clock the last several days in an effort to control the physical pain. It works but soon as it wears off, I need to take another dose. Such it is with short acting medicines. I rather be on short acting ones than longer dose ones, though. I have been on long acting ones and frankly they messed me up more psychologically than my mental illness. I vowed never to go through that bullshit again. I will continue to take the short acting medicine because it is what I am used to and doesn’t hold that many side effects like it once did. I am used to it now.
Because it’s so late at night, the midnight demons have come out. I am again thinking of ending my life because that is what I think about at this hour. I can’t sleep because of pain, pain that the medicine can’t touch. The pain is called psychache, or emotional, psychological pain. There is no remedy for this pain. And it sucks. So, suicide becomes the method of choice to alleviate this pain. It doesn’t mean that I will act on it tonight. Far from it. Just thinking about ending my life and imagining about going through with it is enough to soothe the demons. You might think that is a crazy notion, but it’s true, least for me it is. I find that imagining my death is soothing. I don’t know why. I guess it is because it helps to control something I can’t control, like this pain in my chest that won’t go away.
The pain is stubborn. It resists all measures of relief. Love doesn’t help it, neither does someone caring for me. It’s a funny thing to be in this type of constriction when you want to end your life. All you can see is the end point and that is your death. You block out the people that care and love you. It’s like you just enter a world that is just filled with pain and no matter how many times someone says they love you, it just bounces off and you can’t feel it. It torments you because you know you are hurting that person by not reciprocating that love and care. But it’s too much pain you feel and you are locked in this bubble that no one can really touch. You are alone in this world, though people have constantly told you that you are not. It’s all a fallacy.
Psychache has other features that make it so that suicide is constantly on your mind. Perturbation is one. The need to constantly feel something and the need to do something to ease the psychache. And then you have Press. Press is something that is felt deep inside. It’s the inner workings similar to stress but takes on a different meaning. It is what drives the perturbation to new heights and carries the pain to new levels. All three when at a significant standing means suicide is imminent. Dr. Shneidman calls this the suicidal model of suicide. It’s a complicated but simple meaning of these three Ps. But that is for another discussion. I just know right now that my levels of these three Ps are varying like the weather. It is most difficult when my physical pain is increased. Unfortunately, when my physical pain is at it’s worse, I am immobile to do anything to cause my life to end. I keep telling myself, I will do it the following day when my pain is not at its worse. Fortunately, in the morning, I no longer feel that pressing need to end my life so I live to see another day.
Right now I am at that point where the three Ps are pressing on my heart very eagerly. I can hardly breathe, the weight is so strong. I don’t know what to do to make myself feel better. That is why I am writing this stupid blog. I hope that my thoughts get heard and someone can relate to them. I am not in danger, let me make myself clear on that. As much as I wish to die at this very moment, I don’t have a clear plan in doing so. It is the frustrating part of being suicidal. You want to end your life but you do not have the means to do so. It is sad. All I can do is wait until the meds kick in to ease my physical pain and then I will sleep for a few hours until they wear off and I need another dose of meds again. Such is the cycle.

Cooking and Baking Pumpkin Goodies and other things

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

Cooking and Baking Pumpkin Goodies and other things

One thing I love about Facebook is that people share recipes of all kinds. I have found some really good pumpkin recipes over the last two years. One is a “Better than Sex Pumpkin Cake”. The first time I had it, I must have eaten half of it and made myself sick. I couldn’t eat anything pumpkin for a while. It was so damn good, I couldn’t stop myself, even without the cool whip on top. I was going through my “memory” thing and I found this recipe again and have decided to make it again next weekend when I have all the ingredients. You are supposed to put like caramel sauce and Heath bar bits in it but I found it scrumptious without that stuff. Just having the sweetened condensed milk on top was sweet enough.

I also am going to make my pumpkin cupcakes again. This time I will share them with my therapist so they don’t go to waste. I am the only pumpkin eater, so to speak, in my house and I can’t eat all of them. My brother in law likes pumpkin too but he doesn’t like sweets so he’ll have just one or two and that will leave me with the rest of the batch.

I also will be buying some pie crusts so I can make pumpkin pie. This time I will remember to put sugar in it! My first time making it, I forgot. It didn’t taste that great. I thought the condensed milk would be sweet enough but I was wrong. Live and learn!

I really love baking more than I like cooking, but I hate clean up. If I didn’t have to clean up after I baked or cooked something, I probably would do it more. I guess it’s good that my mother cooks dinner because otherwise, I don’t think I would eat supper. I probably would stick with the basics of a sandwich of some kind or hot dogs.

Hot water heater update: I found out that my brother in law is waiting for a part to come in and that is why we still have no hot water. Why the hell he just didn’t go to Home Depot to get this part is beyond me. I really need to take a shower as it’s been almost a week since I last took one. I feel disgusting. Doesn’t help that it’s muggy out so when I leave my room, I sweat. I plan on trying to take a shower tomorrow morning at my sister’s. I will take my cell with me just in case something happens. I really want to go out tomorrow. I am craving espresso with soy milk, and a burrito. Thursday, I am to meet up with a friend for coffee at Starbucks. I really can’t wait. I haven’t seen her since a few weeks after my father died. Her husband had died maybe a month or so before my father so both had suffered losses. We really tried to stay upbeat and we laughed more than we cried. She is a good friend.

Friday I see my psychiatrist. It’s wicked late in the afternoon. It was the only time she had available so I took it. I haven’t really emailed her since telling her about the CBT intake calling me back. I know she might ask me what my date is. I had emailed her the blog posts concerning it. I haven’t even let my therapist know what the date is. It is soon and I am not taking it off until I know the CBT is on or not. It’s my last chance of dealing with the pain. I just hope there isn’t a shit load of paperwork involved but there might be. I might have to grin and bear it. It’s going to be a tough thing to do because I hate the mentality of “if you don’t do this, you aren’t going to get better” attitude.

Ankle Chronicles 13

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

Ankle Chronicles 13

It’s after midnight and I can’t seem to settle down. And it’s not because the Sox won tonight. I wish it was from my excitement but the game ended like two hours ago. Nope, I am up because of pain. My foot started hurting me and the pain has now spread to my toes. It’s excruciating. I just took some Neurontin and some pain meds. I have to wait for them to kick in before I can think about lying down.

I think it’s time I try something like CBT (cognitive behavioral therapy) to help me deal with pain. It’s not a cure but it might help me manage in better ways. There was a place in Brookline but they don’t accept chronic mentally ill patients like me, specifically those that have suffered any type of abuse or need long term care. So I am going to try and find a therapist where my psychiatrist works. I have to call the intake and be put on the “CBT wait list”. I don’t know how long that will be. I have no idea how this is going to do down. I am going to have to enlist the help of my psych to see if she can expedite the process. CBT is not something I believe in, but it has been shown to help those with chronic pain, so I might as well try it again. I just hope it isn’t a bunch of paperwork and shit. I can’t imagine filling out papers while in the middle of a flare up. I already want to rip what little hair I have on my head (I have short hair) or cut off my damn ankle.

If the list is a long wait, I might not last. I have 3 weeks before my death date comes. I am willing to postpone it if the wait is not longer than say two months. I don’t think I can hold out longer than that as the flare ups have become so unbearable. I hope that my suicidality doesn’t hinder me getting in to see someone. That will really fucking suck and I will feel so dejected. I also hope that because I have an established therapist, they don’t say see ya. This is a specific treatment and one I am willing to give a try if they will just give me a chance. I am really nervous about this because it has been so long since I have gone through an intake process. That is why I am hoping my psych can help with the process a little bit.

I am so damn tired and really want to lie down and sleep. But I know that if I lie down, the pain could get worse and then I will have to sit up again. I kind of wait until I can no longer keep my eyes open and then I lie down. I am usually out by that time. I don’t really sleep very well or very long, but it beats having to lie down and then sit up. It’s a game I play most nights and it’s not fun. It drives the voices crazy because they want to keep talking to me and if I keep popping up, they want to talk more. Or the music in my head gets really loud and I have to play music to drown it out, which then keeps me up for at least another hour or so.

I can’t escape this stupidity. It drives the suicidality all the more because I just want to escape from it all. The pain, the voices, the depression, everything. I was writing to a friend about my troubles and she said that I need to do something, like get involved in something or get a pet. I couldn’t handle being responsible for a pet. It’s a big responsibility, even if my mother allowed it to happen. I know my friend meant well and all, but she just wants me to stick around for a long time. She also doesn’t want to lose me. She understands my suicidality. She knows that my suicidal ideation is not over something trivial.