Tag: therapist

Today’s flare up brought to you by taking off a sock

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

Today’s flare up brought to you by taking off a sock

I was out of the house around 1140. As I was walking to the bus stop, my nephew was coming up the street. He was going to Walgreens. He offered me a ride rather than taking the bus but I said I would wait for the bus. He went and when he came back, I was still waiting for the bus. He really wanted to give me a ride so I took him up on it. It was faster than waiting for the stupid bus.

I went to Starbucks and got an eggnog latte with no nutmeg and a turkey bacon sandwich. The barista added the nutmeg. I was not happy but I drank it anyway. After I was done and wrote for a bit, I decided to go to the bank to make sure my name was right as I had received a letter with my birth name. The said everything was changed over so it might have just been a glitch.

I then went to the Sprint store to change my name. This is the 2nd attempt I made to do this. The first time I called, I was told that I had to change ownership. Then I looked at the website and it said I just needed to bring the legal document to a store and they could change it. I got to the store and the guy was telling me that I needed my changed license to change my name. Are you fucking kidding me?? I was so fucking annoyed. So after I get my name changed at the RMV next week and then get my actual license in about 10 days from then, I will go back to that jerk and have them change my name. What a waste of fucking time.

I had like 3 hours to go before my therapy appt. I rode the trains until it was time for me to get off at the stop to walk to my therapist’s office. It was a good session. I spent a good deal talking about being in the hospital and he wanted to know what was up with my ankle/foot. I explained it best I could and what would happen moving forward, which still looks bleak to me. I was able to move the bone scan to this Thursday. I don’t know how long it takes to interpret the results so I am hoping to have some answers soon or at least know what the treatment is.

Pain wise I was doing okay. On the way home, I stopped at Walgreens to pick up some more Neurontin. Apparently, I still had a bottle from last month that never got used, yet. I’m not worried about it because I am not paying copays at this time so the more I have the better. I plan on getting a refill next month, too, and then I will be set for a few months. I had dinner and then went up to my room. I got undressed to put my PJs on. I took off my socks, and when I took it off on my bad foot, it flared up. So now I am in a LOT of fucking pain because the elastic irritated my foot. I took it off as slow as possible to avoid it but obviously, my ankle/foot didn’t care.

While I was riding the trains, I thought about going back to the hospital, not to torture myself, but to try and see if staying a little longer helps decrease the amount of suicidal feelings I have. I kind of got overloaded last night when I was in a flare and didn’t go to sleep till around 0330. I just wanted to fucking die and started making plans again. Now I am in another damn flare and I want to fucking die. I just used an ice pack on the back of my head and neck to distract me but I am cold so it didn’t stay very long. I got to get up soon to take my night meds. Not looking forward to that.

ugh another psych admit

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

Ugh another psych admit

Met with my psych this morning. I should have known it wasn’t going to be a good day when the 747 bus never showed up but my cousin did to give me a ride to the Square. I gave her some sauce and a piece of my cranberry cake. Then she said she wanted me to go in the hospital. From her tone, there was no arguing with her. She didn’t like that I picked a date, again, or the dire emails I sent when my pain caused me to be suicidal, more than usual. I’m just grateful she let me go to my therapist’s office later this afternoon. I told her I wanted his input.

I came home waited for my new laptop screen to be delivered. I was expecting it around 1230. It didn’t come till after 1300, which left little time for a nap. I wasn’t in that much pain but knew I would need some when it got closer to my therapist’s time. Unfortunately, I didn’t bring my bag of all things, which contained a water bottle so I didn’t take my pain meds. I still felt good so thought I would be okay.

I talked with my therapist about what my psych had said. He didn’t see the point in going in except maybe learning a few things, if I went to the unit my psych wants me at. I thought about this as I left his office. I got to the corner of where his block was and the top of my foot felt like it was being smashed with a brick. Fuck! I had no water to take my one pain pill I had. I carefully walked to the station. Went down the stairs and the train was coming, a full one. Nope not standing three stops. I sat down and waited for the next one, which wasn’t too long. It was less crowded and I got a seat. By the time I got to the Square for the bus home, I wanted to cry. The pain intensified. I could have killed myself right then and there. I missed the bus by mere fractions and sat for the next one. I thought I was going to bawl as the bus was in traffic on the ride home. I was hurting so bad and I needed to get my meds at Walgreens. I honestly have no clue how I got home.

I wanted to tell my youngest sister I would be going in the hosp tomorrow but she was surrounded by her family and my middle sister and I didn’t want to bring it up. My brother in law is anti-mental health issues of any kind. I’ll text her later with it.

I did tell my mother, which is a huge step for me as I usually just leave her notes the morning of. We were talking when my psych called me. HAHA she is worried about. She asked how I was and I said not so great as it has been a long day. I then explained that I wanted to go to the unit she recommended and if I end up at the hospital I was in a few months ago, I will sign a 3 day (basically it’s a form forcing the hospital a 72 hour notice to decide if I need to stay (court will be involved), can go home, or will leave against medical advice). If I do go to the hospital and get assigned a different treatment team other than Bonnie and Clyde, I will stay as they may be helpful. There is one doc there I really like working with and he is sincere in trying to help anyway he can, unlike the Bonnie and Clyde couple. Bonnie and Clyde are assholes who after learning I wanted to leave the hospital to kill myself, then asked when I wanted to be discharged. Fuck you too! It was a complete waste of time and I won’t go back to their “treatment”. Plus those assholes put in my medical record that I have gender dysphoria so now all my medical records in this healthcare system know, whereas only my psych knew before. I am still steamed about this but once something is in the records, it cannot be removed without serious documentation and possibly a lawyer. Not worth it. I did bring it up to my psych, who was not happy to learn my PCP read her notes. He is okay with me being trans so I just hope it doesn’t make me a target of any discrimination, now or in the future. I told my therapist today that he will not be getting any releases from my long term disability folks. They do not need to know anything about what I talk to him about. Course they could just read my blog, which would be all they needed to either have me continue with their shit or not. I feel like their stuff is heavier than social security!! Once I get my newer laptop running again (crosses fingers and eyes), I plan on going to the website to see what exactly I am disabled. I am kind of in the dark as to whether or not it’s physical or psych or both. With my long term disability, it’s physical and depression, though how they determined that without my therapist’s notes, I have no clue. Must have gotten them from my psych, but even she didn’t get anything, so who knows. As long as they continue to pay me (the small amount) I am happy.

So tomorrow morning, I will be catching the first bus to the Square to go to the ER, where I hope I’ll be placed in the unit my psych wants me to go to. I am not feeling hopeful about it as we have tried to get on this unit many times and failed. I am very tired. I will be taking my night meds shortly and hopefully go to bed within an hour, if not sooner. I just hope my stupid foot pain doesn’t keep me up all night. I also hope I have access to my phone on this unit or I will not like it. I won’t be able to use the app for my PT. I can’t say that it’s been helping because my scores have been terrible when I am in high pain. Maybe that is a good thing. It will be nice to see if the scores change over time. I told my psych that PT is going to be a long process that won’t happen overnight. Unfortunately, I just don’t have the patience or the hopefulness to stick with it as my depression is so severe. Even my therapist said today I don’t look too hopeful that the hospitalization or anything will help. He is right. I have been let down so many times but usually just the change of environment has helped a little, even if the staff hasn’t been. Sometimes a hospitalization will help me see things differently but that was when I was dealing with mental demons, not pain demons. It is so unpredictable and that is what wears me out. As I was telling my mother tonight, there is no reason for my ankle to hurt doing “normal” movements that it should do. Physically there is nothing wrong with the bones, that I know of. I am still waiting to hear back about the bone scan. The tendons might be inflamed but after all the rest that I have given it the last 5 years, it should have been calmed down by now. If this is truly a nerve injury, I am screwed as there is no treatment and if anything, it should have shown some improvement by now if there was going to be any. The fact that the pain has gotten worse doesn’t help me feel too hopeful about the future. Hence why I get so suicidal in a flare up.

rollercoaster of a day

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

Rollercoaster of a day

I woke up after 8. I tried to go back to sleep but it wasn’t happening. I got up and used the bathroom, brushed my teeth, and then went back up to my room. I wanted to be at the courthouse around 11 or so. I left around 0930 to the Square to get breakfast and my espresso. The bus was early as they had earlier delays. I wasn’t complaining. I got to Starbucks and their oven was broke so I couldn’t get a hot breakfast sandwich. The girl knew me so gave me two comp cards. I thought that was nice of her. I drank my espresso and wrote in my journal. I left around quarter of 11 to catch the bus to the courthouse. I wasn’t in too much pain and I hope it stayed that way. I wore a short sleeved shirt and it was cold. I was hoping it was going to warm up but it never did. I went to the courthouse okay and was in and out. I got my paperwork. It is now legal. I am G Collerone. I was on cloud nine but I did but didn’t feel good about it. I took a pic of the doc and sent it to everyone. Without me realizing it, my phone made a copy of each text I sent. I have like 10-15 copies of the 1 pic I sent out. I’ll delete them when I am bored.

I had to come home and get a sweatshirt. While waiting for the bus at the train station, a homeless man approached me wanting me to play him a song on my phone. As I was pulling up the song, my bus came and said sorry, got to go. I went to the back of the bus. He came on the bus and stunk it up with his booze smell. He also was drinking. Lovely. Luckily, he got off before I did. I came home and my mother was home from her doctor’s appt. I showed her the document and she gave me a disgusted look. Then said she was still going to call me my birth name. I argued with her but it did no good. Talk about a buzzkill. I tried to not let it bother me but it’s so hard. I talked to a few friends and the feelings passed. I then called my insurance to let them know of my name change but they said I should call my employer or it might go back to my birth name. I called my benefits place and I needed to fax the document over to the HR in charge of my case. I left the house for the bus that never came. I was so pissed. I had to take the next route, which didn’t go to the Square directly. I had to catch another bus to get there. I had wanted to go to my bank to see what documents they needed to change my name but I didn’t have time. I’ll do that tomorrow. I was able to fax to my former workplace where I still receive benefits. I am glad this happened before open enrollment, which is next month. Tomorrow I will call my bank to see what they need and my prescription insurance to change my name. So many things to do.

After the fax was sent, I went to my therapist’s office. I had emailed him a safety plan and that I was planning on ending my life soon, which was why next week would have been our last session. I went in and saw that he printed out the form. I was shocked. We talked about things and he gave his impressions of what goes on with me when I become suicidal. It was fairly accurate. We filled out the form. So now I have a safety plan to go to when I get the suicidal urges. I feel better that he did this with me because I was really feeling like he wasn’t going to and that I was again alone with my suicidality. I have put the date off, for now, because I am looking forward to transitioning as a male. I think I can do this.

frustrating day of pain, therapy, and other things

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

Frustrating day of pain, therapy, and other things

I slept pretty good after falling asleep after 0330. I woke up around 11. I was hurting a little bit but because it was almost close to 12 hours since my last dose of pain meds, I took them. When I got downstairs to use the bathroom and brush my teeth, my ankle flared. I was cursing but there was nothing I could do about it. I stayed up in my room until I got antsy and then caught the next bus to the square.

Starbucks didn’t have the steak and egg wrap that I usually get so I settled for a turkey bacon sandwich. They also gave me a 4 dollar gift card for my inconvenience. I thought that was nice. I played on my phone as I ate. Terrible news about Las Vegas. And because the shooter is white, they refuse to call it terrorism. Fuckers. Killing 58 people and wounding 575 is terror, I am sorry!! The flood of tweets between the reports and gun control filled my feed. I couldn’t read anymore. I took out my journal and started writing for a bit. I then wanted something sweet so I got up to get something. My ankle didn’t like that at all. In fact, it didn’t like me bearing weight in the slightest. Fucking fuck. I couldn’t go home as it was too late to cancel therapy or try to reschedule. I tried to finish writing the best I could and then when it was time to head to the station, I limped along. Getting to my therapist’s office was going to be a challenge.

I was hot by the time I got to his office. He could tell that I wasn’t ok. I told him I was in a lot of pain. I wasn’t too talkative, though I tried to have a conversation. My brain was void of thoughts. I told him it was hard trying to think. I then told him the progression of how things are going to go and he wanted to think differently about it. I said how and the jerk didn’t have any answers. Like seriously? It’s like saying you shouldn’t be depressed but you are going to be depressed anyway. Let’s just state the obvious. A few times I wanted to snap at him with his snide remarks but I held my tongue. We both fiddled with our fingernails. It was the longest session ever with him. Then he said at one point, do I feel like part of me doesn’t want to talk or something like that. I felt like walking out at that point. I mean, what is the purpose of seeing a therapist that can’t understand you are in pain and don’t feel like fucking talking?? I felt like crying at one point but I stopped myself. He just isn’t worth the tears. I am so glad I am not seeing him next week because it’s a holiday and he is off. I feel like just making appointments with him when I feel like talking. Maybe that will be easier than seeing someone weekly. I don’t know. I feel he is a good therapist, well, a good person to talk to but not someone to really help with my issues. He just placates me, states the obvious, and then doesn’t offer any ways to cope or deal with anything.

Despite not talking in therapy, I did tell him that someone had said that I should make my days count rather than plan dates (in response to my blog about existing). He didn’t understand what that meant. I tried to explain to him and then his reply was, what kind of response are you looking for. Something supportive and not criticizing?? Or even understanding that my days are difficult?? This guy really annoyed the fuck out of me on a really painful day.

Time eventually was up and I walked back to the station. I stopped at Starbucks to get some water so I could take my pain pills. I was really hurting and I still needed to stop at the grocery store to pick up some eggs for my mother. The train came soon as I got to the platform. I was glad. I went to the store and got the eggs. There was a line for the check out. Bad timing. I used the app for the store and didn’t realize it took off $5. I kept on wondering why I was only paying 56 cents for 4 dozen eggs. I finally accepted it and went on my way only to miss the bus by seconds. It was turning the corner as I approached the bus stop. The next one was in a half hour. I was not happy. My mother didn’t make anything I liked for supper so I was on my own. I didn’t want to eat late or order as I knew I wouldn’t be able to go down the stairs to get my delivery. I made some White Castle sliders. My ankle was mega hurting me and I was sweating like a pig because I over dressed. I thought it was cold out but it warmed up. I had to have my mother wash my back because I was soaking wet. Even my underpants was soaked. I couldn’t stand for a shower so I just washed up with a facecloth. I should have peed before leaving jerk face’s office. My bladder was not happy when I came home. It was spasming after I peed. Then a few minutes later, I had to pee again. It hurt. I hate bladder spasms. My mother put the eggs away.

After all was said and done, I went up to my room and took some pain meds and my night meds so I didn’t have to stand again. I don’t know if I will be able to sleep tonight. I am hurting pretty bad. I need to get up early tomorrow to make breakfast and then go to my PT appt. It’s my first session so I am not sure what will be involved. I then have to go to my PCP’s office to get my pain med scripts. I haven’t quite figured out the logistics of that yet. Depending on how I feel, I might take the orange line in and then catch the shuttle to the hospital. Then catch the red line back home. I’ll stop at Walgreens to have my meds filled. I will pick up more sliders for lunch. Maybe this time I will get two boxes as there is only 3 packages per box.

I hope I sleep tonight. I am really tired from being in pain. It’s such a fight every day. I’m tired of fighting. I can’t believe that in one week I’ll be changing my name and seeing the neuro specialist that I hope will help me. I know I’m not really fixable but if there is something that can be done to help ease flare ups, I’m for it.