I know I only posted a few hours ago but I am still feeling the need to write. The heaviness in my chest has not lifted and I am finding it hard to breathe. I just feel this tremendous weight on me and I don’t know why. I feel like my heart is going to pieces and I have no reason for it to be. Maybe I am going crazy? I just know that I hurt and I don’t like this hurt. I think I’d rather be in horrendous physical pain than deal with this heartache. Sadly, I already am in physical pain but I seem to be getting good at tuning it out. It only hurts when I try and move my foot so I try very hard to keep it as still as possible. That has what my life has become. Staying as still as possible. And I just feel broken and lost. My niece today really touched a nerve. She was just being honest. I just feel like I should be working at a “real” job, though my therapist tells me this is my “real” job. I can’t understand how my life went so badly in such a short amount of time. Four months is not even a season. Sure you have the middle of winter and the beginning of spring but neither were full seasons when I lost my jobs. granted I quit one at the end of Jan and then I was forced to leave the other the end of April. so technically it was three months of going from two jobs to none. All because of what? That is what is killing me. The doctors still aren’t sure what is causing my pain. They thought at first it was my back but that was ruled out with MRIs. Then they did MRIs of my leg, ankle, and foot. All negative except for some swelling. I say just cut the swelling out and see how I fair. I can’t go on living like this. I just can’t. I don’t think I will see the light of day again. These black clouds keep circling around me, day in and day out. I got to sleep with emptiness so vast it can fill the Grand Canyon. I am not on an antidepressant. None of them work for me. None provide relief. Yet my therapist thinks that I should be on one. I don’t see why. I will just become sick off them and will have to discontinue them after a month or so. My psychiatrist has nothing left in her arsenal to save me. My therapist is all out of ideas to help me. Yet I continue the course, hoping that there will be a light at the endless tunnel. They (my therapist and psychiatrist) see this light but I never do. It is too far away from me. But what they don’t see is my heart that is torn to pieces. I want to end my existence because the pain is too great. Yet these two tell me I can’t. One will be hurt and the other will hospitalize me. Why can’t they see how much I am pained? Maybe if they saw it, maybe if I describe it better, they will see that the only way to fix it is with my death.
Tag: suicide
broken sleep and pain
My manuscript was delivered earlier today, early enough that I could go out for my coffee. I had wanted to stay in today and just rest but I got restless. Now my ankle is screaming at me. I am stupid sometimes. I think I can just go through my routine of taking the bus and stuff when last night I woke up three thirty in the morning because of pain and then fell back to sleep at six. I woke up around ten-thirty. So I had broken sleep and pain to warn me not to go out today.
I didn’t know what to do with the manuscript so I just punched holes in it so I could place it in a binder. I took one look at it and got overwhelmed. But then I am getting overwhelmed with everything lately. I think I just got to stick with my blog as that is what makes me happy. I don’t know about this other project my friend has cooked up. I want to help her out and stuff but I think me working on my book and then her project is too much for me. And her piece is just as emotionally exhausting because it centers around my suicidality over the last few months.
I was in the middle of an email to her today as I was coming home when this guy who I can tell has mental issues just came up with me and started a conversation with me about clothing and buying t-shirts at Walgreens because they were cheaper than elsewhere. I was like ok. Then he kept on going on and on and I was like dude, I need to finish this. I had my headphones back in my ears, was looking down at my phone, and this guy was still trying to have a conversation with me. Shit. He was harmless and stuff but he kept on getting closer to me, invading my personal space with every new conversation so that is when I told him I had to finish the email…which by then I totally forgot what my train of thoughts were. That pissed me off. I hate it when someone interrupts me when I am writing. Even my phone decides to interrupt me soon as I open Word. It will be quiet the whole time I am on Facebook but soon as Word is open, texts and emails start coming in and I am like WTF. So now I just turn off the sound while I am working.
Speaking of working, my niece wanted to me to watch Cinderella with her but I had to get what I wrote up in Starbucks in a word document before I totally got exhausted and doped up on my pain meds. I knew the time it takes for the pain to get jacked up and I would have to take something is limited so wanted to get it done before I was in Dopey Land. When I told her I couldn’t because I had work to do, she yelled out, “you have a job”?? I told her yes, I do. I didn’t tell her what, as technically I don’t but I am sick of just saying that I am disabled. And I am a writer now so might as well use that title. But my mother was sitting right next to her and when my niece screamed out those words, my mother heard it, then asked me to clarify. I was like, oh shit! Now what do I say?? I can’t fib to my mother. So I just said that I had to type and made the typing motion with my fingers. No one knows what I do during the day. And it is not like I am getting paid to write my blog or my book or help my friend with her projects. They don’t know how many journals I have filled since being out of work. But my niece struck a cord with me, like I should be working but I am not. And it hurts. I still am dealing with the grief of not working and there goes my eight year old niece stating the obvious. I just feel like a loser.
I have to send my baby (laptop) back to Dell because of the high pitched noise. It is totally deafening my senses when it goes off and literally drives me berserk. It’s not too noticeable when I am playing music but when I am not, holy crap is it loud. And I can only hear it in my left ear because my right has high pitch deafness. The buzzing in my brain goes away when I block my left ear. I might have to use my older laptop until I send this one away but the thing weighs more than this one and gets hot after a while. I am just afraid that I might throw my back out while shuffling it around my bed.
I still have been under the blue moon. As I was walking home, I got struck with this heavy sadness that just froze my chest. It felt like this huge weight was on my chest and I couldn’t breathe. I swear the black clouds are still following me around and I am starting to feel hopeless that they will ever go away again. I know it is that time of the year that I always get more depressed than my usual. It always starts mid-September and won’t relent until sometime in February. I call it baseball depressive disorder because it always co-insides with the end of baseball season and doesn’t relent until spring training. I just hate feeling this way because even though I know it will pass, I just don’t think it will. I start getting wicked hopeless and as that deepens, my sadness just gets worse. Then the suicidal feelings increase and by December I am wondering why I am continue to live when I promised myself it was all going to be over with. I might do it, just because. I so just don’t want to live anymore. I hate feeling trapped into living because of others. It is no way to live. But yet I continue my existence because of others, because that is the type of person I am. And I hate myself for it. I really do.
good/bad day
Made a cake today. I should have transferred it out of the pan before I put the sweetened milk on it. It didn’t tell me this in the directions and I am an idiot when it comes to desserts so it kind of flopped. It was still good though. I think I had so much of it that I probably will be good for a couple of days. It is richly sweet and I think it should be called pumpkin de leche.
I kind of been having a good day today. I don’t know why. I have been listening to Taylor Swift and she always puts me in a good mood. But now I am in pain from standing and running around all day so I am in a not so great mood. I wish my good moods could last all day but I will take them as they come.
I finally could answer the call from Dell. They don’t know if it is the cooling fan that is making the noise and the idiot said it could be the hard drive. He had me run some diagnostics and everything came back normal, of course. The stupid high pitch thing didn’t even come on when I was on the phone with him. UGH. Funny how things become normal when you are on the phone with a tech.
I am going to try and get my sister’s car this week to see my therapist. I am going to try for Wednesday so I can put gas in her car. But it all depends if I have enough energy to get up early and go through the routine to make it to my sister’s work to get the car. I wanted to go Thursday but I woke up too late. I should have set my alarm but of course I am not used to setting it. Why would I when I don’t have to get up early anymore. The only time I will set it is when I have to be up before nine. And that is usually when I have to take my father to his oncology appointments. He gets grumpy if I don’t go with him.
I wrote a few pages in the project I am working with my friend. It is tiring to be writing all the time. I don’t know how writers are able to do it. But then, not all writers write about their experiences like I do.
Tomorrow I have an open day, which stinks. The only thing I have tentatively planned is going to Starbucks but my manuscript is supposed to be delivered tomorrow so I might stay home all day. I really don’t want to go out tomorrow. I just want to stay in bed and maybe watch some TV. I know I am going to be hurting later tonight. I took my father home and wore slippers rather than sneakers. My ankle didn’t like it one bit. I do have to get up kind of early tomorrow to cancel my appt with the repro endo doc. I was finally able to get in touch with her via email so she changed my prescription once again. I hope this stupid pill works because I really don’t want my menses again in a few weeks. That will just suck.
Both Boston teams won today. I got to see the ending of the Sox game. I missed the ceremony for Yaz. I am sure they will have it on YouTube or something. They dedicated a statue for him today. I will have to make a trip to the Park to see it. Maybe one of these days.
rambling 50
I have not done much today except to go to Walgreens to pick up a prescription. I have slept most of the day. I am trying to convince myself to take a shower but not sure if my ankle is going to cooperate.
I am very happy that the Sox are now the American League East Division champions. It was awesome watching them play last night and celebrate afterwards. We still have a while to go before the playoffs start but it’s nice to know we clinched the division. There are eight more games in the regular season. They just need six games to win to make 100 wins overall.
I got a tremendous headache today. It is hard for me to think. I am so tired, even though I just woke up from a nap. I needed to rest today because my ankle just wasn’t going to have it any other way. Even with me icing it last night it was still painful.
I am still feeling depressed and a little suicidal. I swear I am never not going to feel suicidal. I came across a blog last night that I thought was very idiotic about suicide. This person really got me going. I thought about purchasing her book just so I could harshly review it but thought better of it and didn’t. I commented on the blog and am waiting for “moderation”. So far I have not had any response, nor do I expect there to be. I like to think of myself as an expert in suicide because I have read extensively on the subject as well as written about it and suffer from it. This woman supposedly does as well but thinks there are neural pathways that cause us to think that way. I never heard of anything like it and I guess if it’s not related to Shneidman or Jobes, it’s all whacked out stuff. I am biased to those that are actually in the field of suicidology and to the researchers that I have read over and over or come across over and over. I don’t know what she is basing her theory on but I have a feeling it is hogwash.
Well baseball game is going to start and I think I want to take a shower before I lose all interest in it all together.
midnightdemons7 
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