Tag: suicide

They say not to use the word “demons”

by Midnight Demon, posted in bipolar, chronic physical pain, depression

They say not to use the word “demons”

In recent news about suicide, attempt survivors are asking that the word “demons” not be used and that the real “thing” be used. I forgot the term as it was many days ago and I don’t have that much of an attention span that I used to have. It got me thinking about my blog as the word “demons” is used.

I don’t really care what these people say, I am still going to have my blog and though I don’t talk about the “demons” in my blog, I mostly talk about how I feel, which is often suicidal. These suicidal tendencies often come out in the middle of the night, when I can’t sleep, and when I am in pain. I would write some horrible stuff and get a lot of people concerned.

Tonight the “demons” are out. I am hating everyone that has kept me alive the past few weeks. Though I could kill myself now. It doesn’t make a difference with the time frame. I am in excruciating pain and just want to end things. I am so tired of fighting pain. It used to be just psychological that the fight was about. Now, it is both physical and psychological and I am sorry but I can’t keep fighting both. It is too hard. I know that I will feel better in the morning, when I get a few hours of sleep. But right now I could write an email to my psychiatrist and tell her how much I hate her for keeping me alive. I could text my therapist with the same hate. But instead of doing that, I am just going to blog until I fall asleep.

What makes my life so special that I can’t commit suicide? Robin Williams was special. He did the deed. So do a lot of people, every year. They say that 39,000 people will take their life in a year in the US. And the number of attempts are in the hundreds of thousands. Or maybe it is a hundred thousand. We just won’t know because it is so underreported. Many people survive their attempt and often don’t seek medical attention afterward. It is so hard to kill the human body. It boggles my mind when I hear of homicide, though. Seems like that should be higher than suicide but it is not (and please correct me if I am wrong).

But aside from the global effect of Williams’ death, I still feel like it is my turn to die. I really don’t want to live knowing I am going to be in pain the rest of my life. It’s too much of a burden to think about. But I am lucky that all I need are a few pain pills to ease my pain. It doesn’t get rid of the pain entirely, but just enough that it takes the suicidal feelings away. I just took these meds but it takes a half hour or more to work. Chronic pain is a big risk factor for suicide. I know because I live with it every day. My treaters know that. That is why I am hating them at this moment. My foot is throbbing up a storm. I don’t know if it has to do with the weather change. My body can’t tolerate huge gaps of temperature changes. But I have no control over that and I am not about to move to another state. Yes, moving to California might help my pain but it will be isolating because I have a few friends there and most of my family are here. Isolation and being suicidal do not mix. That is why I stay at home. It is a preventative factor for my suicidal brain.

I don’t know why I am up at 3 in the morning. I woke up in pain and still my pain meds have not kicked in. The “demons” are still around me, wanting me to try and take my life. But that will involve getting out of my cozy bed and I am too tired and in too much pain to do so. I guess you can say I am too lazy to take my life. So I write about it instead. I won’t write about the methods that have been swirling around my brain. But one of them include the method Williams chose. He is a brave person. It takes a lot to kill yourself. I am not giving him praise, the media has already done that. But I am happy for him. People in the hospital didn’t understand that. And maybe you might not either. I am happy for him because HE is no longer suffering. HE succeeded where I am a failure. His suffering has ended while mine is still going on.

He died as a complication of depression. I like that term. “Complications of depression” yes, I like that term very much. But I doubt it will be used for my death. The throbbing has escalated. My foot is now on fire. And there is no extinguisher in the world that can put out the fire. So I take another pill. I hope that I am sleeping soon.

Runaway Train

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

“Can you help me remember how to smile
make it somehow all seem worthwhile
how on earth did I get so jaded
life’s mysteries seem so faded”

These are the lyrics to Soul Asylum’s Runaway Train. These lyrics have been resonating with me over the past few days. The meaning is quite clear. I feel I don’t remember how to smile. Life seems jaded, far away from me. Another line is “somehow I’m neither here nor there” I ave been struggling with my alter Mr. Hyde the past few days. Last night he really wanted to come out and play. So I let him write yesterday’s blog and the lyrics to this song for my therapist. He seemed satisfied.

Runaway Train has been my favorite song since it came out in the early 90’s. The lyrics touch me very deeply. It’s a song about abuse, neglect, and the need to escape these things. Yet not matter where we go, they always follow us. Like the lyrics state “Runaway train never going back, wrong way on a one way track, seems like I should be getting somewhere, somehow I’m neither here nor there”

Every time hear the song my heart aches because I can never escape the pain. One of the tracks is “bought a ticket for a runaway train, like a madman laughing at the rain, a little out of touch, little insane, Just easier than dealing with the pain.

I interpret the ticket with suicide and how pain is dealt with. Suicide, for me, has always been my ticket out of this world. I read about it to understand it better. I write about it to feel better. Yet I know one day I will lose the battle, like Robin Williams, and take my own life. There is no way I can educate my family for my loss. For they refuse to acknowledge that I have mental illness. According to my sister “there is no mental illness on her side of the family”. This was said three weeks after my last hospitalization for depression. It’s tough to deal with. Yet I have no strength to educate them after all these years. I am surprised my brother in law hasn’t called me. But then, he, too, is in denial about things.

The last line of the song always gets me. It says “I runaway but it always seems the same” And it’s true. No matter how many times I have a depressive episode, it’s like my first and aways feels like it’s never going to end. Then I remember, usually by the scars on my wrist, that things were worst. Things always seem the same with depression but they never really are. Each episode takes a piece of you that cannot be replaced or taken back. Each episode tears you apart ad brings you to the edge of suicide nearly every time. And it hurts in ways you cannot describe. So I am on the one way track, trying never to go back, but I’m neither here nor there.

Voluntary admission

by Midnight Demon, posted in chronic physical pain, depression, mood disorders, suicide, suicide attempt

Voluntary admission

I had a meeting with my therapist and a few phone calls to my pdoc today. They were not amused with my blog from yesterday. I was kind of hoping my pdoc didn’t read it but she did, and now I am fucked. Tomorrow morning I have to leave the house early to go in the hospital because that is when a bed will be available. I would have gone in today but there are no beds. So I get to spend another night staring at all my bottles, wondering which will do me in and which will only knock me out. I just texted my therapist to call me as it’s urgent. I really don’t know if I can keep myself safe one more night. Then I will be babysat for I don’t know how many days until I get released. Fun! I packed my backpack and it is very full. It doesn’t have my journal in it so I will need to pack that before going to bed tonight. I could have packed another bag but I want something that will be not so noticeable. I plan on leaving the house before my mother gets up so I don’t have to deal with her. I have not told anyone except two friends (and no blog world) that I am going to the hospital. I keep waiting for myself to “snap out of it” but it hasn’t happened yet.

Therapy today was fun. We went over my crisis response and I am supposed to write down alternatives to my thoughts of suicide. I don’t see anything because the damn constriction is making it so I only see one option, and that is death. I would page my psychiatrist right now and be like I don’t need to go in but I think it is a lost cause. She might send me to the ER if I don’t and I don’t want to spend a night in the ER.

I took a test run today to see what bus I have to take to get to the hospital tomorrow morning. I hope the shuttle bus isn’t crowded. I hate crowded public transportation. It gives me anxiety. I just realized that I didn’t pack any socks that I washed yesterday. I am an idiot!

I am hoping to go to the same unit I was on before. I don’t be able to blog like I do as it will be on phone. If I do blog from my phone, please excuse typos and grammatical errors. I might not catch them. Last time, I wrote a really long blog that I typed up after I got discharged to talk about my experience. I might not do it this time because it was an ordeal. I had several pages to type up and handwriting to decipher. So if I go a day or two without blogging, know that I am in the hospital and can’t right now. I would love to take my laptop but I am too afraid of it getting stolen or worse, dropped. I still haven’t decided which pants to wear tomorrow. I hate deciding what clothes to wear and what is deemed safe.

I severely chopped my eyebrows off today. Yesterday there was one hair that was out of whack and instead of plucking it with tweezers, I decided to use my hair clipper. Bye-bye eyebrow. Today I decided to do the same to my other one. I don’t know which looks worse on me. But I kind of like them being this short. I have bushy hairbrows so the trim, although not even, is ideal.

I really hope that I can be safe tonight. My therapist hasn’t called me yet. I just want to say fuck it and do something. But I don’t think that will go over too well with anybody, including myself. I still am wondering how to play it out in the hospital. If I make myself too unsafe, I probably won’t get my cords to charge my phone and I NEED my phone. I will be there a minimum of 7 days. But I am really freaking out on my therapist being on vacation the following week and be being out in the world. It scares me. They could discharge me anyways, they don’t care if you are suicidal and have plans to end your life. I just am so tired of fighting all the time. I really don’t think me threatening to kill myself when I get discharged will be a good idea. That might keep me there longer, which I kind of am hoping for. I just hope that the fire alarms don’t go off while I’m there. It’s an old building and last time, just steam would set them off. It was horrible! Everything is just so sensitive when you are on a psych unit.

Diagnosis

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

Diagnosis

Today I finally learned my diagnosis because my pdoc ordered some blood work to make sure I didn’t mess up my kidneys or liver with the OD the other night. I am bipolar I, currently depressed, severe, without no mention of psychotic behavior. That is a mouthful.

My pdoc wanted very badly to hospitalize me today. She wanted me to “push” her to do it and it wouldn’t have taken much to do. But I told her I didn’t want to go to the hospital. I fought her on it and I am to keep in contact with her the next few days. She is on vacation next week and I don’t see her until the 22nd of Aug. My therapist is on vacation starting Aug 11th. I would most likely be admitted for the whole month of August and I don’t like that. I might go in after I get my narcs for the month from my PCP. I can’t miss that appointment or it screws up the schedule. And the last time I was admitted, he took it as I was going to overdose on my narcs and it just was a mess. I had to pay extra because he only gave me a two week supply. I don’t have the money to be paying double.

I half want to email my doc and tell her I still want to smash my head in with a 20lb hammer. But that might section me as I am already walking a fine line right now. She didn’t kill me like I thought she would but she is very concerned about my welfare. The most she could do was force me to get blood work and an EKG. I hated having both done. But it was better getting them done as an outpatient than as an ER visitor.

Right now I am so conflicted. I want to go in the hospital but I am fearful that the demons will come out like they did in this crazy dream I was having about the hospital. I kept telling them I was going to kill myself when I got out, just watch and because I didn’t have follow up care, they kept me. This went on for weeks, least it did in the dream. I know that if I let myself go, I will hold nothing back. It will actually be interesting to see if they discharge me when I tell them I am going to kill myself. But I don’t think I want to find out. I do know that if I don’t have follow up within a week of being out, they might not discharge me.

But the 20lb hammer thing, it is starting to become obsessive thoughts. I still haven’t figured out how to swing the rope so that it hit me just right. But I keep thinking about it. Or maybe get it square in the forehead and hope it does enough damage. Thing is, I don’t know if I will defend against it. My reflexes are good, I think, so if something is coming at me, I will duck out of the way, which will defeat the whole purpose.

My therapist doesn’t know about this idea either. We haven’t had time to talk about it because she keep doing the SSF (Suicide Status Form) on me to assess how I am doing. That was the other thing my pdoc was asking about, how to keep me safe and what plans are in place so that I don’t do what I did on Saturday again. She knows it will take very little for me to harm myself with the meds that I am on. But both my pdoc and therapist knows I am both careful and smart with my meds. But with my therapist tracking my suicidality, my pdoc felt a little better. Otherwise, I think I would be sitting in the ER waiting for a bed someplace.

I feel really shitty. My bowels are fucked up and I don’t think there is enough senna in the world right now to set them straight. I still feel sleepy most of the time. Exhaustion will just wash over me. I think I am still under the meds hangover. So I think I will skip tonight’s dose too. I will just take an Ativan plus my other meds to sleep. Hopefully, the stupid abilify doesn’t send me into hyper mode. It didn’t last night, I think because I was still harboring some of the mood stabilizer in my system. I slept pretty good, got at least six hours straight, which was better than the night I OD’d. I think my pain meds helped because I was really having zaps and exploding pain going through my foot last night. It literally felt like someone was trying to rip off my big toe and smash it with a hammer. Not a pleasant type of feeling.

I still haven’t gotten around to changing my sheets. I keep saying tomorrow and it never happens. I need to wash my comforter, too. I wish I had the energy to do it.