Tag: therapy

One Great Mystery

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

One Great Mystery

“One Great Mystery” is a new song off Lady Antebellum’s new album, 747. It’s lyrics has struck a cord with me as I don’t know what I did to make my therapist “fall for me”. Tonight I am reminded of the time, many years ago, that I first encountered her stubbornness. I was in another suicidal depression and I so wanted to get rid of her. I felt like therapy was worthless because I was feeling such things. I was so into my suicidal mind that I was planning for my death and yet I wanted to make sure she was taken cared of. So the journal that I subscribed to had an article in it on therapists survivor group. She wouldn’t even accept the paper I was handing her, she couldn’t accept my eminent death, much less going to see a therapist for her grief. She really didn’t want me to die. Yet with every fiber of my being, I wanted to. I just couldn’t face life. It hurt too much. I was tired, extremely tired of fighting the battle of depression month after month, day in and day out. It is exhausting just putting a smile on your face when all you want to do is hide from the world. Yet somehow, some way, she got me through that episode. It was difficult work. I was almost as stubborn as she is. I had to consistently keep in contact with her via text message about how I was doing. I would write her the most awful of text messages. But it was a way to let her know I was still around. Long as I sent her a text, it meant I was still fighting this battle I so wanted to end.

During one horrific suicidal place that lasted for about three long weeks, I asked her if she would tell me that she loved me. I needed to hear that if I was to survive. So toward the end of session she would say it, and it would always surprise me. I was taken aback that she complied. Who does that?? And I could tell in her voice she was sincere. I knew that I had to keep on doing this thing called living. It’s like the song by Garth Brooks, “learning to live again”. One of the lines is “learning to live again is killing me”. And it was. I can’t describe the battle of death vs life that was going inside of me. I so wanted to die but I had my goofy therapist wanting me to live. My “kids” that needed me for their various things. And my sisters who need a person to vent to. When I was working, it was always responsibility to my job, though I planned on killing myself at work because I hated the place. Even though they tried to promote they were for taking care of your pain, they really didn’t. If I didn’t have a caring PCP, I would be screwed. I know that I would have ended my life years ago had my PCP turn me down for opioid therapy.

My therapist knew this. She and my psychiatrist know that my physical pain drives my suicidal tendencies to the limit. And when I don’t have a break, I get into a very depressive state that is hard to get out. Luckily, with my last hospitalization I was put on an antidepressant. If I wasn’t on it, I doubt it would have lifted my depression and suicidal thoughts.

But my therapist is great, as much as I call her a bozo and a PITA (pain in the ass). I know I wouldn’t be here without her persistent nature.

I’m the Problem

by Midnight Demon, posted in chronic physical pain, depression, suicidality, suicide, suicide attempt survivor

I’m the problem

A few days ago, I got a comment on one of my blogs saying that my therapist isn’t the problem, I am. I was bullshit because how could I be the problem when my therapist was the one freaking out over my suicidality. Then I read my blog that was commented on. The commenter missed the point I was trying to get across and was blaming me for my problems because I wasn’t seeing things “her” way. I was “choosing” to stay depressed and suicidal rather than getting my shit together and moving forward. If only it was that easy.

It got me pretty upset. I have been trying to get a hold of my therapist to get her input. I know she is NOT going to blame me for my problems. The whole point of this blog might be kind of stupid but I can’t sleep and it is on my mind. And I know that I won’t be able to sleep until I get the thoughts out.

The fact of the matter is that I have a therapist that freaks out whenever I bring up my suicidal tendencies or thoughts about death. I find it isolating because I can’t talk about these feelings with her. How can I when she becomes so tense and flips out? I feel that therapy should be a place that you can talk about anything in the world that is bothering you. But suicidal thoughts are so taboo that it is difficult to engage in that kind of talk. I have been through this with my therapist for the past 10 years and it is always the same. She starts talking about things that have nothing to do with my suicidality and I am left feeling alone and helpless. So how am I the problem when I can’t talk about how I feel when I know it will be falling on deaf ears?

This commenter also brought out that I am irresponsible, “choosing” to spend my money on coffee and music rather than my bills, which is totally untrue. I can’t make ends meet because I am on limited income and have more bills than I can pay. So some months I buy coffee and my country music because I think I earned that right. I don’t skip a bill payment because I pay for it. It just means that I can’t get to eat out or pay for groceries. I think I am responsible enough to know what to pay for and what is frivolous. I have 5 bills I am responsible for every month and I pay them even though it leaves me with little left over for things like coffee and music. And I shouldn’t have to explain to the internet what I spend my money on. This commenter just has an assumption that is wrong, all because she thinks she is an expert in financial matters.

I use my coffee spending as a reward and my one joy in life. If that is too much for you Ms. Expert, go suck an egg. I am not going to stop spending a miniscule amount of money for coffee just because you think I am being a big spender. I wish I had the money to be a big spender but I don’t. I am on a fixed income every month and have to make do with what I have. I don’t work anymore because I have chronic pain and mental illness that requires at least two hospitalizations a year. But then, if you think that this is all bullshit, try a day in my shoes. I am sure you will topple over the first hour.

My suicidality makes me a “difficult” patient. No therapist wants to see their client die by suicide. No therapist wants to see their client hurting so bad they want to hurt themselves. It is a challenge to the mental health field. I have worked hard on this blog to tell my story and hope that it helps someone. After your bogus comments, I was questioning whether to continue. But fuck you and the horse you rode in on. I am not going to stop blogging because of your ignorance and high almighty attitude. People need to know what it is like living like this, and living through it, though it is difficult, extremely difficult at times. If you can’t understand it, stop reading my blog and go bother someone else.

Up Early Again

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

Up early again

I woke up around 0530 with back pain. I don’t know when this pain is going to go away. I could see what if I was doing something stressful, but all I was doing was sleeping. It is so annoying to wake up in pain.

When I woke up, two things fell off my bed and scared the crap out of me. It was my portfolio and a book. They made such a loud noise in my quiet room. I will pick them up later as I can bend down right now to return them back to where they belong.

I had such a long day yesterday that I couldn’t think of anything to blog about. Words were escaping me because I was so tired. I dealt with my father for 6 fucking hours. That was enough to drive me to drink. He was so ornery and deviant that I could have choked him. It’s a good thing I have patience with him otherwise I would have told him to fuck off and left. I really, really can’t stand him and I know it is only going to get worse as he gets older.

My mood is kind of low because I have not been having a good night’s sleep the past few days. I don’t know why I can’t sleep past six hours. But being in pain doesn’t help. Last night, before going to sleep, I started coughing really bad. I think I am getting sick so I am not going to be around my father today. My sisters can deal with him. I don’t know why I am so congested.

I really want to write my therapist a letter but I don’t know what to say. Things have been difficult between us lately. And she is clueless, as usual. I will try and talk with her about this on Tuesday when I see her. I might be able to take my sister’s car and visit her. But it will all depends if this congestion goes away or not. I don’t feel sick, but I just have this stupid cough.

I hope my therapist reads the last blog I sent her. Sometimes she does and sometimes she doesn’t. That makes things difficult because then I have to try and remember what the blog was about or worse, read it to her. That annoys me. I hate reading what I wrote. The difficulties we are having is that she keeps panicking whenever I bring up thoughts of death or suicide. Soon as I hear her voice change, I can’t talk to her anymore and I shut down. I feel like my feelings have no where to go and I get frustrated. The frustration just makes me more depressed and makes me feel alone. It drives me crazy that after 14 years of working together, she still fucking flips out over my suicidality. For once, I would love for her to accept it and explore it and possibly question it so that maybe it won’t haunt me so much. But I don’t think that is ever going to happen.

I was shocked, really shocked, when they were doing some pre-op questions for my father, they asked if he was in danger of hurting himself. I wanted to laugh and say he was too narcissistic to want to end his own life. But it seemed strange to ask him that right before he had surgery. I mean, if it was me, what were they going to do, put a watch on me while they operated? So stupid sometimes when they ask these questions. There are times when it is appropriate and other times when it is not. I mean, I get that suicide is an important issue to try and capture but I know that if the answer had been yes, things might not have changed. I just don’t get why they would ask something like that right before being operated on. It just doesn’t make sense to me.

I just had cookies and milk for breakfast. I really wanted to make some scrambled eggs but couldn’t be bothered. Yesterday I made them so very good. I put in three slices of cheese. I love when they are cheesy. I really want to have a poached egg but I suck at making them. I always break the yolk and then there is no point in eating it because the good stuff is gone. I like the yolk more than I like the whites. I also made a good cup of coffee yesterday. I was going to have a second cup at Starbucks but declined when I got to the station. I didn’t want to be jittery when I saw my father. That would have made things worse.

Thirteen Years Later

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

Thirteen years later

I started writing a little bit about the attacks on Sept 11th, 2001, but then I realized I am not a political individual and my opinions may not be heard without some come back. I do know this. After thirteen years, our troops are still not home and maybe fighting another battle in the years to come. Now the enemy seems to be ISIS, whatever that stands for. I see the reports on Yahoo News on my twitter feed. Each day I realize that we are getting closer to another world war. I hope I am wrong for my nieces and nephew’s sake.

I had my appointment with my father today. Appointment was scheduled for 0930. An hour later, we see the doc. Never fails. It went well overall. But I am tired because I didn’t get my coffee this morning. Because my bus was late, I had to get coffee at the convenience store. I didn’t have time to walk to Starbucks.

I was able to remember the power cord to charge my laptop in case it became low on battery. But you think I remembered to bring my phone charger? No. It didn’t occur to me until I got to Starbucks and was checking my FB feed. I still have time to go home and get it but then, by the time I get home, it will be time for me to go back out again. I hate having an appointment so far apart from each other. But I rather be in Starbucks than at the hospital. I went to the one in my home town rather than the one in Boston. No need to stay in town when I can be elsewhere and won’t bump into people I know. Someone at the docs office recognized me from high school. I never seen her before nor did I recognize her. I didn’t even get her name, but she knew me. Oh well.

I desperately want a nap. I might ride the trains to kill some time. I slept really good last night, until my alarm woke me up at 0730. I forgot to pack my lunch that I made before going to bed last night. Now I will have to buy lunch. But I am not hungry as I just had breakfast, LOL.

Another day that goes by that I don’t make an effort to get my car out of the driveway. I need to call a junk place and get it out. They will actually pay me for pick up so I don’t know why I am procrastinating. Google will give me at least 10 places I can call. I just don’t know what to say. I have problems talking with people on the phone. I rather text or email them. But for this, I just cannot do that. I did call one place before I went into the hospital, but they didn’t call me back. They were going to pay me at least $200 for the car. Oh well. I will get another place. At this point, I really just want the car gone. It is literally falling apart and won’t survive another winter sitting there.

The temp for today was supposed to be in the 80s and humid. It is neither. There was also a call for rain but now it’s been pushed to the evening. I am glad because I hate carrying my laptop if there is a chance of rain. But when I left the house, it didn’t look like rain and the weather was in the upper 60s. I hope it doesn’t get to be 80. My back will hurt big time. That is one thing I hate about the temperature changes. Drastic shifts always cause my spine to hurt. I have arthritis in my lower back and I can feel the changes in temp when it is 20 degrees or more. Last winter was horrible. I was hurting almost every other day because the temp kept on going from 50s to 30s or lower. Snow and rain don’t really affect me as much. I long for the day when it was just my knees that hurt from the weather. I have moved passed that since my back surgeries, oddly enough, thirteen years ago. Least for the first two. The third and 4th would come five years later.

I have decided to conserve battery power by listening to Pandora as I sit in Starbucks writing this. It’s not the same music that is on my MP3 player but it’s music. I got 3 hours before I have to go to my appointment. Time is crawling. My leg is hurting me with the brace on. I just loosened it so that it’s not irritating me so much. I hate being in the AFO all day but it’s better safe than sorry as I am trying to avoid pain. I am not walking or anything. I am just sitting while I am typing this. It annoys me that I can do nothing, yet still be in pain. Drives me bonkers.

Just got a “trend” alert about Gmail. If you use it, please change you password immediately. Hackers were able to publish 5 million passwords online. I just changed mine, though I hardly use it since the privacy factor is gone. I still have it just in case someone uses it. Now it’s mostly junk mail I get. I also had to change my therapist’s password. I had set up an email for her so she could read my blog but it never worked out. Turns out texting her the link to my blog works better for her. She is not tech savvy.