Tag: suicide

Mondays Suck

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

Mondays Suck

I had a hard time sleeping last night because of pain. I woke up a few times during the night. I just couldn’t get comfortable or I just couldn’t sleep. It was a bad night. I had planned on going to Starbucks after I took my morning meds but I fell asleep and didn’t wake up again until my mother called asking what I wanted for dinner. By that time, it was too late to head to the Square.

I got up and made a half of a bagel for some calories for the day. I drank it with some dark chocolate almond milk for added protein. Then I went upstairs to check Twitter and Facebook. While doing that, the pain came back. I haven’t done a damn thing all day except make myself something to eat. Unreal. I just took some pain meds and will soon be calling it a day. I don’t care that it’s just about 1700. I won’t be watching/listening to the sox game tonight.

I texted my therapist late last night about the suicidal ideas that I am having. I didn’t give her specifics, I never do, but told her what was on my mind at that hour. I swear she better not give me a hard time tomorrow. I just don’t want to deal with her. I never do when I am in this state. I think therapy is a joke when you are suicidal and want to seriously kill yourself. It’s a serious, “why bother” kind of thing. I never feel better after I have had therapy with these types of discussions. I just get more frustrated because usually, I am not being heard. Or my therapist goes into anxiety mode and nothing gets accomplished. That actually pisses me off more than just trying to talk about things.

I also sent my psychiatrist the “can’t die without explanations” blog. I wanted her take on it. I still haven’t heard back from her. I probably won’t. I un-password protected it last night so I didn’t have to send her my word doc. I won’t send her the other “incriminating” blog that I think sent police to my door. I still am upset that someone called the cops on me. I am just glad that I was home and they didn’t break in to see if I was okay.

I am getting hungry. That bagel didn’t help as I haven’t eaten anything else all day. I think I might make a black bean burger. I haven’t had one in a long time. I still haven’t made my way to Dunkin Donuts to grab a dozen donuts. I am sure their pumpkin ones are back. They are really good. But it is a long walk to get there. I could cheat and take the bus down the street. It’s only a few stops though. Maybe I will tomorrow before my therapy appointment if I get up early enough.

Saturday Blog 63

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

Saturday Blog 63

I did not have a good night sleeping. I woke up in the middle of the night in pain. I took some more pain meds and tried to go back to sleep. I was able to fall asleep about an hour later. I woke up with the same kind of pain in my ankle. I was glad I didn’t have to go anywhere today. All I wanted to do was order pizza and watch college football.

I was able to order pizza and it has been the only thing I wanted to eat today. I watched half of the Huskers game. They were leading 14-0 when I stopped watching and won 52-17 when I woke up from my nap. Pain meds and pizza coma caused me to have to lie down. I woke up in time to watch the OSU game. That game was incredible. They had 2 interception touchdown returns and a fumble recovery. They are currently in a weather delay as heavy rain and wind is in the area. I figured I would write as there is nothing I can do but wait till the game comes back on. OSU is leading Tulsa 20-3 at the half.

I am still in a lot of pain. I am trying to stay off my foot/ankle as much as possible but watching football gets me excited and I want to stand to watch the game on TV. Stupid I know but, I am a guy and that is what guys do. Doesn’t help that I have a small TV so I can’t see the downs and stuff when I am sitting.

Today is World Suicide Prevention Day. I am having a hard time with it because I feel so suicidal. Most of my Twitter friends are suicide preventionists so I have been getting tweets left and right about what to do if you are suicidal and all the typical bullshit that goes with it. I just can’t deal with it today so I have been on and off Twitter for most of the day. Most of the time, I will just post game updates from the OSU game but not really reading the tweets, unless they are sports related.

My sox played in between the Nebraska and OSU game. It must have been a quick game because by the time I was up around 1530, it was over and it started at 1300. They lost 3-2. I have been reading that there have been some miscues by the rookie they called up from double A. I really don’t blame him as he is too inexperienced for major league ball, in my opinion.

My foot is really hurting me and I don’t know when the second half of the OSU game is going to be played. I really want to take another dose of pain meds so I can go to sleep again. I am really tired. I had a cup of tea to try and keep myself awake but it didn’t really do anything. I really need to empty my recycle bin but that involves going down two flights of stairs and I am just not up for that. I am in too much pain for that.

NYT Article

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

Today, at this time, my article http://opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com/2015/09/08/love-hate-and-suicide/?_r=0
Was published a year ago, in the New York Times. It was a very proud moment for me. It still fills me with joy whenever I think about it. I wish I had written more stuff like this, but unfortunately, I don’t have control over my writing. Sometimes things come to me and it’s a hit. Sometimes it sucks but I write and publish it on my blog anyway because maybe someone can relate to it.

nyt_lovehatesuicide

In the picture, that is where it all started. On a notepad. I think I do most of my best writing when I handwrite. I just wrote something today and it was a little short of 850 words. I don’t know if it will ever be a prize like this New York Times article but it will be going in my book. I won’t be sharing it on my blog because there are somethings that I don’t want published. I have published so much of the book on my blog that it’s getting hard to write “original” stuff. Of course, I then edit the blogs so that they are formatted and not gibberish for the book. I am getting close to completing the book. I might be done by the end of this month if I really work on it.

Goofy Therapist

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

Goofy therapist

Today’s therapy session was the goofiest I have had in a long time. I started off by calling her goofy and that was it. She was in hysterics for whatever reason. I told her about the dream I had last night where I could “fly” down stairs and while walking. In the same dream, I was getting away from someone as things had gone bad where I was, hence the reason for my flying. I went to a Starbucks that apparently I frequented so much that they wanted to name a drink after me. I woke up before I learned the name of the drink. I had just gone in there with the intention of getting a chili mocha, which I did have today. It was ok except they must have used non-fat milk which I don’t like. It tasted like a water mocha. Gross.

She was telling me how the sauce that I gave her was now gone and we were talking about food for a while in the midst of her trying to analyze this dream. I guess in the entry I wrote about how I was going to make ham and cheddar biscuits and she said that she needs to eat before we talk because I was making her hungry. Goofball, I am telling you. I didn’t tell her what I had for breakfast because I didn’t want her to drool anymore than she already was.

Also in the session with my therapist, once I was able to get her away from my dream analysis, she kind of understood now why my moods change so rapidly when I am in pain. I had started off with a day letter and then I wrote again around 11 pm (2305 to be precise). I wrote how bad the pain was and how much I wanted to end my life. We briefly talked about how much I wanted to end my life but she didn’t want me to, obviously. I kind of got upset at this, but I didn’t let on about it. There was no point because I would be talking to a wall. She gets why I want to kill myself and can see how my mood can change to radically, but she doesn’t want me to end my life over it. Typical. I wanted to tell her that I already had plans to but I just couldn’t. I really want to see the Frida Kahlo exhibit at the Museum of Fine Arts first.

After session, I returned my mother’s phone call. She always calls me during session. EVERY SINGLE TIME. Then she gets mad at me because god forbid I should have someone on the other line. She wanted to know if I was going out and I did tell her I planned to. She has been asking me every single day when am I going to the Square because the Family Dollar Store has soap on sale. I went today and there was no such sale. I bought two packages but didn’t tell my mother I paid the regular price. It was only 0.75 cents more.

While at Starbucks, I got two mochas, my chili mocha and a regular iced mocha. I got two in case I didn’t like the chili one. I didn’t like it so I am glad I had the other one to drink. I typed up my story from the other night. I couldn’t believe it was 21 words short of being 850 words! I was really mad at myself because I kind of left off at a cliffhanger. I couldn’t believe I left off at such an ending. I had wanted to write more but it was nearly 330 in the fucking morning so I went to sleep. I didn’t know I left off with such a dramatic stopping of words. I hate writing at night for this reason because once I lose my train of thought, it’s hard to get back into it. I did that with the “Roots” story I wrote. I had started that at the wee hours of the morning, too. So while I was thinking, I texted my therapist and read Twitter. I didn’t turn on the WiFi at Starbucks because it would be too much of a distraction to me. I could put my phone down, but wouldn’t be able to get off the browsers on my laptop. Then I knew I would get lazy and wouldn’t write anymore. After I bitched about being short on words, I went back to my document and wrote about 100 words. Final word count was 961. It’s still not finished yet so I am sure it will be around 1200 or more by the time I done with it. Using the font Comic Sans, I was able to get 2 and half pages of work done. Not bad. It kind of goes along with my other stories in the book so I hope it flows well.

With these 3 pages or so, I think that will bring my page count up to maybe 118 pages. I really want the book to have 200 pages, at least. This doesn’t include any introduction or preface or any other miscellaneous writing. I haven’t sorted out what that will look like yet, or if I really want to have that. In the memoir that I read last week, it had a page that stated this was a book based on her memories and experiences. I might follow that logic in my writing as I didn’t really take these writings from anywhere but my experiences. It’s sort of like a second memoir book that is just stories about my psychotic experiences and delusional thinking. It seems every psychotic/delusional episode I have is different and wild. Sometimes I write about them in my blog when they are over with. Unfortunately, the current delusion hasn’t passed entirely yet.

While I was taking out my laptop to return to my room, I came across a manila envelope that has my father’s health care proxy paperwork in it. I don’t think I need to be carrying that around anymore. Now it’s in my “office” on my bed. I don’t know what to do with it.

I need to get up early tomorrow to see my Neurologist. I need to take a shower tonight because I doubt there will be time in the morning as I am not a morning person. I basically won’t be watching the Sox game tonight as it’s on late. Game is on the west coast. Tomorrow also marks the anniversary of when I published for the New York Times. I just hope I wake up early enough to make coffee because I won’t be going to the Square until maybe the afternoon, after my appointment.