Tag: suicide

rough therapy session

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

Rough therapy session

I had a rough therapy session where all we did was talk about my suicidal feelings and the blog that I wrote yesterday. I also told her about getting a call from my psychiatrist. She doesn’t want me emailing her about my psychosis and I am to page her from now on. My therapist wanted me in the hospital but I don’t want to go. I really just want to die and be left alone to do it. We talked about that. I know that I should probably be in the hospital but I seriously don’t want to get doped up. I have been taking the trilafon as needed. I will page my doc tomorrow to get more as I only have four left. It’s not going to enough to get me through the weekend.

My therapist also wants me to toss the means I have or to give it to someone I trust. I don’t trust anyone so that will leave the dumping to me. She wants me to text her when I have done it. I am struggling with this big time because this screws up my plan. I may never have an opportunity like this again. And I will kick myself for getting rid of these means. It doesn’t mean I won’t have other means available, but what I have is considerably less lethal. I am also scared that if I go to the hospital with them knowing or me telling them the voices are telling me take all my pills, it might cause problems with my pain medication like it has in the past. Granted my PCP isn’t around anymore and I am being followed by a nurse practitioner, but still, the threat is there. I would seriously hate to have my pills restricted because of some idiot thinking I will OD on them, when I know what will kill me and what won’t. If I want to really fuck up my liver, I just need a bottle of 500 count Tylenol, handy at any pharmacy or store that sells drugs. That is more lethal than what I have in my stocks. Plus it will wreck your liver more than kills you in the process so I don’t want that.

We did some Crisis Response planning. I don’t think I will do anything other than possibly page my psychiatrist. My therapist said she is going away and she doesn’t have coverage so it’s either the psych or the ER as my options. And this is a holiday weekend so it would not be good to get admitted.

I need to somehow take a shower today. I bought a new shampoo that I hope will help with the itchy scalp. It was expensive but my rewards at Walgreens paid off so it only came to be around a buck. Now I got to start rebuilding my points. I still feel out of sorts today. I just took a trilafon to quiet the noise a little bit so I could possibly read. It’s been awfully noisy in my head the past few days that I can’t read. I have a stack of books that are waiting to be read and I can’t get through the ones I have started. I found out today that my favorite author Neil Gaiman is coming out with a new book in February. It’s about mythology. It sound very interesting. He is the only author I know that produces at least two books a year. I wish I could write like that. But then, I am not the creative genius he is. I got my AP Stylebook today. I have been waiting forever for it to see what it is like and stuff but today I don’t have the energy to thumb through it.

I really don’t have the energy to do anything today. I just want to die. I hope my heart stops beating. I just don’t want to live anymore. I feel like crap, like my soul has been sucked out of me. I still feel like I can go ahead with my plan tomorrow and no one would be the wiser. But I made a promise and I always stick to my promises.

wicked agitated and pissed off: A psychotic post

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

Wicked agitated and pissed off

I emailed my psychiatrist what was running through my head. Next thing I know, she is calling me. She wants to know if I want to go to the hospital. I am like no. The voices are telling me to do things and the hospital just will dope me up. I don’t want that. She is like “so”. I got really annoyed. I told her I wasn’t going to the hospital. Next she tells me to page her from now on. I guess email is off limits to my psychosis. Great. She wants to be paged in the middle of the night, she got it. I don’t care. I don’t sleep. I haven’t been sleeping.

I got really sad this evening and I don’t know why. Then the voices started telling me to take my pills, all of them. I have been agitated and afraid to do anything. I took a trilafon and some Ativan to calm down. I told my psych that. She was happy that I took the trilafon. She doesn’t know about the Ativan because I took it after we got off the phone. I was so nervous I did something wrong. I am literally shaking inside. And the voices are just so fucking loud. I had to shut the music I was listening to off because It was confusing me.

I was on Twitter on my phone to try and distract myself but the feed was so slow. No one was tweeting fast enough for my brain. Then the words started doing their dance. I felt like calling my psychiatrist back. I am scared if I do she might tell me or force me to go to the hospital. I just need to ride out this night. I just took my meds and more Ativan. It was a compromise because I planned on taking some damn abilify to get back on fucking track.

I really thought I was keeping her posted. I didn’t think what I was saying was alarming, I really didn’t. Now I feel like an idiot. I think that is what is making me feel so agitated. I have no idea if this is making sense or not so if it’s not, I apologize. Being psychotic you think weird things. And the damn bombing in Istanbul didn’t help my delusions and paranoia. It’s feeding into me wanting to kill myself. I feel like I have to but I can’t let anyone know. I just need to work out a plan but it involves walking and I can’t fucking walk so WTF am I going to do. I just need some time to work out this plan. It will work this time, I hope anyways.

Sox are finally winning a game. PoorFellow is still sucky but he is keeping the score on the winning side of things. Got to give him an A for trying.

So much anxiety. So much tension. So many voices. They are all telling me to keep taking pills. I am very psychotic, more psychotic than I have ever been before and I am scared. If I tell anyone, a professional, I will be hospitalized. I don’t want to go back to the hospital. They just want to give me more pills than what I take. It’s been three weeks that I have been off the abilify. Maybe I should go back on it. I don’t know. I am scared to ask my psychiatrist. I am hoping the meds I took tonight will knock me out. I can’t read because words are dancing on the page. I will write in my journal for a little bit. The Ativan and trilafon should be enough to make me sleepy. Shit, now I am feeling really anxious. This isn’t like me to be anxious but I am so scared of the voices. They are really angry and I don’t know why. They are arguing with themselves. This is what I live with on a daily basis, since stopping the abilify.

Being in pain wasn’t helpful. They wanted me to cut my foot off but I didn’t. I haven’t taken any pain meds since I came home. I don’t think I will need any before bed time. I don’t know if the mix of all these drugs will be. Maybe I won’t take my pain meds, unless I am really hurting, but I don’t want my pain level to sky rocket. It’s a tough predicament I am in. Maybe I will wait till midnight. That is a few hours from now, if I am still up.

I almost feel catatonic. But I am writing so I know that I am not. I am just so scared that I might hurt myself. I don’t know if I can keep fighting the voices like this. I know the hospital will kill me. It will be a defeat. I can’t allow that to happen.

Struggles in Therapy

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

I had therapy today. It went on time until 10 minutes in my bowels decided to try and explode. I had to tell her that I would call her back in a few minutes. Lousy timing. The joys of CES. I did what I had to do and then called her back. I apologized. We talked about various things. She wanted to know if I was suicidal and I had to ask myself, was she not listening to me yesterday when I told her? She said she knew I was because of the pain, but wanted to know if I was otherwise? Being suicidal is being suicidal. No matter what the cause is, if you feel like taking your life, you are thinking about it. I just let it go because I didn’t want to deal with her stupidity today. I already dealt with one idiot doctor this weekend, I wasn’t going to deal with another.

I asked her to leave me alone and she started laughing. I should have hung up on her. I really wanted to but she would call back. I don’t know what was annoying me. Maybe the whole almost crapping my pants thing got to me and then finding out I had discharge. I really was like WTF. I just stopped the pill earlier this month so I should NOT be having any type of bleeding. That, with the stupid dream I had about her, just really fucked with my brain. I dreamt that we were in session and we were talking about breasts. I have no idea how the subject came up. I really hate mine and really want them chopped off. But then, I am a male so I shouldn’t have them to begin with. In the dream, I had to go pee really bad. I couldn’t wait for the session to end so I could go. Funny how the dream came true, partly.

My therapist likes to play mother hen sometimes. She gets on my nerves when she does this because I am not used to people caring about me. She was freaking out about the trilafon supply that I have. I have 5 pills left or so and I don’t see my psychiatrist until next Friday. I think that is plenty as I don’t take it that often. I have been taking it every few days. And I don’t take more than one pill per day. She also worried that I would run out of my strong pain pills. That I might call in for a prescription because I am almost out and I am in the midst of a flare up. I thought I had more than I did but I don’t. She was really freaking out on me and I was like WTF. I think she had too much coffee today or something. I really am thinking she has an anxiety disorder of some kind. I wish I could know some of her patients because it would be interesting to see if she act that way with other patients or just me.

I know the voices are getting out of control. I didn’t tell her this because she was already out in left field and nervous. Besides, they were listening in on our conversation so it wasn’t like I could talk. She asked if I was paranoid and I told her I haven’t been around people too much. I went out today and was a little nervous. I think that was only because the bus driver was a little heavy on the gas with a wheelchair passenger. I get nervous that they are going to go flying with a sudden stop. I listened to my music the whole time I was out. Starbucks had these French cookies that were out of this world. It was a type of shortbread with dark chocolate in the center. HEAVEN! I hope they don’t run out. If I go out tomorrow, I will get them again.

Other than having therapy tomorrow, I am not planning on going out. I didn’t get my hamburger that I wanted to get. I might try for Thursday. I hope the avocados don’t go bad. They are in a sealed plastic container so I think they should stay good.

I got T/Gel shampoo for my stupid itchy scalp. I have tried the other shampoos and nothing is helping. And I don’t have that much hair so I know it’s not because of dirty hair. I am going to take a shower tonight if I can bear it. My ankle didn’t like going out today. I had to break out the cane half way through my trip. I am glad I had it because it really was painful. As I was walking home, I saw fire trucks and an ambulance. I was fearful that they were for my mother. But there was a 3 car accident on my street. One car was pretty banged up and was leaking stuff. I hope the drivers and passengers are okay.

Severe pain continues

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

Severe pain continues

I finally was able to sleep around 0230 or so. All the meds I was taking finally knocked me out so I could sleep. I shut my phone off so I wouldn’t be disturbed. I woke up around 1100, which was good. But the pain was still there and now my upper ankle is hurting me like I have been standing on it all night. I know that this pain is nerve pain because it’s more of a throbbing pain like the rest of my ankle and foot.

I needed coffee when I woke up so I made it. I brewed Pike’s coffee, a Starbucks blend. It is strong coffee but not the acid burning kind. I find that it is stronger than the Brazil coffee that I have. I wasn’t hungry so I didn’t make anything. I planned on making hot dogs, which I just had. They were yummy. I bought Fenway Franks which are the best dogs on the planet, to me anyway. I then had a piece of pumpkin pie. I am so full. I think I will have supper later tonight, if I get hungry. I still have the ribs from yesterday to finish off. I plan on making biscuits sometime today but it depends on how my foot is feeling. Taking a shower and making lunch really brought back the pain so I am going to rest for the next few hours.

Sox game is starting. I was going to listen to it but my favorite pitcher is pitching and he has been sucking big time lately. I really think he still has potential to be a great pitcher. I just think something mentally is going on. Maybe the pressure of being in Boston is getting to him. His first outing he pitched a no hitter and he hasn’t pitched well since. So every time he is on the mound people are expecting him to pitch well. Only reason I am not listening to it is that it is painful to hear him pitch badly. Much worse to watch.

I am glad I was able to shower. I feel better, a little bit than I did last night. I emailed my psychiatrist twice last night. I sent her my blog and then a few hours later, I sent her an email exactly telling her what was on my mind. It wasn’t good. Between the voices creeping up and the severe pain, I am suicidal, again. The voices aren’t telling me to harm myself. But they are just encroaching on my space. They want to know everything that I am doing, all the time and why I am doing it. If I pick this coffee over that one, they want to know why. If I take a pill, they want to know why I don’t take two instead. It’s exhausting. I wrote a lot last night. I had started writing at 0130 that day so around 2340 I continued where I left off. I think I wrote until it was well after 0100. I don’t even remember what I wrote. I still fear a hospitalization is coming. I just don’t want to go back because I don’t want to be doped on meds. I can still function, well, as a psychotic person can. I am used to it. I am not scared except when I am paranoid. But that is mostly when I am out and about. It’s really hot today so I am just staying in my room.

I plan on reading more of “Common Struggle”. It’s a good book and it’s hooking me in because he is at the point where he is realizing he has an alcohol and drug problem. I find it amazing when people recover and do something about their illness. He also has been pushing mental health parity in the US Congress. He really wants brain diseases (mental illness) and addiction to be treated the same way as diabetes and cancer. Unfortunately, there is more stigma to fight because people don’t seek help for fear of not being helped or being told to “tough it out” or think positive thoughts. Most often, people seek help and find there are huge waiting lists to see someone. The same is true everywhere. Sometimes even after a suicide attempt, there isn’t a bed available so they stay in the medical ER until a bed becomes available, only to be released a few days later with the “promise” not to try again. No follow up or after care is given, usually. There just isn’t money to follow up. That is why I think it’s a joke that some places are taking on the “Zero suicide” initiative. That is all well and good until someone falls through the cracks and kills himself or herself.