Tag: writing

accidents and other musings

by Midnight Demon, posted in cauda equina syndrome

I kind of feel lousy today. My stomach is not doing well and I had to take a cab home to hurry to the bathroom. I hate it when my stomach gets upset but the alternative of having an accident outside the home is more humiliating than having it in the home.

Funny how many will think of the word “accident” as a car or some kind of vehicle accident than a bowel or bladder incident. I had a few while I was working and it was not fun. I often had to go home afterwards to clean myself up. When asked why I said I had an accident and they immediately thought that I had a car accident. They didn’t realize that I had regressed to that of a two year old. How indignant is it that a grown person has a leaky bladder and when the stools are loose, an accident. I can’t help it. I have lost function of my bowel and bladder so when I get a signal from either I have to make it to the bathroom or I lose my underwear and have to take a shower. But no matter how many showers you take you don’t feel clean. It just makes you feel like a dirty person and it messes with your mind.

I am having an okay day otherwise. My foot (knock on wood) has been ok so far. I am sure it will act up in a few hours when I am trying to watch the game. Stephen Drew is back in the line up tonight. Can’t wait to see his début. Hopefully it will be good and he plays solid defense. Everyone has been commenting on how the Sox have no errors so far. I hope they don’t jinx the team because they are commenting on it. I will be upset.

I still have not talked to the group leader about me leaving the group therapy that I started over a month ago. I think it is best that I move on from that group. It is too triggering and I feel bad afterwards. I just don’t think the group is for me anymore, though the down side is not going by Fenway Park every week. Only reason why I have not done so is because I know he will want me to say goodbye to the group and I am just not ready to do that or think that it’s appropriate. Can’t tell a bunch of people I have to leave because I am getting nothing out of this group and need to move on, especially when some of the members are so close to the edge themselves.

Think I am going to watch Lincoln now…

Aeschi model and ramblings

by Midnight Demon, posted in depression, mood disorders, psychache, suicide, suicide attempt, writing

Just woke up after a morning of pain. I decided to take my pain meds and go back to sleep. Like I figured, I woke up around 1400, which left me a half hour to shower and get dressed before the bus came. Well I did take a shower but going down the stairs to my sister’s apartment for coffee put a kink in me going out. I still plan on going out with my cane to Walgreens for some soda. I know I shouldn’t as I am trying to diet but I need something to drink other than water. I also need to get another bottle of water as I drank the one I had while watching the Sox game.

I am feeling energized by the coffee. I hope it doesn’t lead to a crash because I don’t want another nap today. I need to work on my writing today. I have been amiss doing so the past few weeks but now I think I know what to write about and I’ll just stick it in. I want to write about the Aeschi model for suicide and also how Dr. Jobes came into my life through his work. I really believe that if more clinicians took this approach to their clients or at least they had this approach in inpatient settings, there might be less suicides.

Aeschi model (pronounced Eshi) is a patient-oriented model, meaning that the patient has a say over treatment more than the clinician does. What has been found is that the provider-oriented model doesn’t work as patients can get frustrated over the “provider knows best” thinking. The Aeschi works toward a collaborative effort with the patient and provider working together to finding out what is at the heart of suicidality of the client.

Today I was at Starbucks taking notes on my Aeschi book. I was writing down what I had highlighted but there is too much information that I didn’t highlight that I needed to share so I gave up on it, for now. This book is so powerful that you really need time and energy not only to read it but to digest its contents.

The gist of it is to have the client be the person in charge of treatment and therapy, a novel idea when so many clinicians think they know it all better than the client and therefore take charge due do their discipline (CT, CBT, DBT, Etc.) I know that if my therapist had been in this category, I probably would not be here, or I would be seeing another therapist. I believe that if there is a collaborative effort of the therapist and client, there will be a higher success rate than if the therapist has the one track mind of he/she knows best. But the nice thing is that the Aeschi model doesn’t have to focus on one discipline. It can work for social workers, psychologists, psychiatrists, mental health workers, etc. It just takes a little courage to step out of the normal boundaries and put the client first. To let the client tell their story without being judgmental or critical.

After the client tells their story, there is an openness that can be trusted. Once the client has a sympathetic and empathic ear that is open to whatever the client is saying, the real journey begins.

This model is the new age of what therapy should be about. I know that if I didn’t develop a relationship with my therapist, I probably wouldn’t be here.

On another note: I did go out today and wasn’t in too much pain. I was able to walk a block with my AFO on. Now I don’t know if the brace is what calmed the pain down or if my ankle is finally calming down. I had a wicked bad night last night. Ice and pain meds were just not working for me. Usually ice helps but this time it didn’t. I am going to try again tonight. I have my foot elevated on a foam block. Best $60 I ever spent for a foam device. It really helps my back and legs.

A remembrance of the past

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

I read a blog today that really hit home and made me think. It was about a person that wrote about her experience of attempting suicide eight years ago this month. I also have an attempt anniversary this month, actually in a few days time it will be 21 years ago that I first attempted suicide with diphenhydramine, also known as Benedryl. I remember that it was a month after my then therapist told me she was leaving. I thought fine, so will I. I planned my death on a day I knew my family would not be home and took the pills. What I didn’t account for was puking, violently. If I hadn’t, I probably wouldn’t be here today. I still remember my eyes being dilated for almost a week afterwards. I was pretty mad and I felt like a failure, a huge one. Probably the biggest one on the planet at that point. Here I was, a very intelligent teenager who couldn’t kill himself right. I sunk into the worse depression after that. Actually, I had no idea I could sink worse than what I already felt but I did. I began losing weight, lost my appetite almost completely. I was sixteen years old and all I thought about was death. I was not sleeping. I would wake up at four in the morning nearly every day and couldn’t go back to sleep. I would wake up dreading the world, not wanting to go to my summer job but I had to. I couldn’t show that I was depressed. My mother had already freaked out when she found out I had overdosed thanks to the said therapist who told her after I told her what I had done. I didn’t know what to do. I think after several weeks of this and it just getting worse and worse I called Samaritans and talked with them about my situation. The person told me that I should be in the hospital and I contemplated that. I waited a few more days to see if things would get better and when I couldn’t take anymore, I told my mother I needed help. She took me to the hospital and I got diagnosed as major depression with psychotic features. Up until then, I had dreams of joining the navy. Those dreams died in the hospital emergency room when they told me I was psychotic because the voices in my head wouldn’t shut up. I actually felt free to talk with them for the first time in my life. My mother didn’t like that as it appeared that I was crazy. Well I was…

I got to the hospital and got sent to a local psych ward that was NOT for teens. I then got transferred to a better psych hospital the next day. I would have two more admissions there before I had a break. So my cycle of being in and out of the hospital began. I had three admissions all within a year. I blamed my next therapist for this as if she was doing her job, I wouldn’t be so sick. This is the therapist that I saw after the other one had left. I have seen many therapists in my lifetime, too many in fact. Before I turned twenty-five, I would have eleven therapists. Some therapists only saw me for ten months, others were year and a little over. I never had continuity in my care so I always remained unstable. Surprisingly, the only stable therapeutic relationship I have had was with my psychiatrist, whom I have been with since I was seventeen. I wished so badly at times that I could see her for therapy but she only does medication.

And here I am twenty odd years later and I still want to end my life. How sad is that…

midnight ramblings

by Midnight Demon, posted in Chronic pain

Last night I was in pain again though I don’t know why. It’s a late hour so my mood has tanked south. I don’t know what it is about the night that makes all the pain come out but it sucks. Thoughts of death are swarming around my head. I’m listening to The Band Perry’s new CD to try and relax. I haven’t listened to music in a few days. I do tend to feel nervous when I don’t listen on a regular basis.

I tried taking a break from my therapist this week. It didn’t happen the way I wanted it to. Usually I take a break and become more analytical and come up with these great ideas. But this time, it just didn’t happen. I guess being wrapped up in pain left no room for thinking about things. I usually end up writing her these long letters about how I am doing and what I am feeling. I didn’t so much as do that.

I came up with some idea to write about songs that I have a knack connection with but have not started that project yet. I just haven’t decided what songs should go into this. I guess I’ll know when I hear it.

Tonight I have my cousin’s wedding. I know I am going to get asked about my work and I’m going to talk about my disability. It gets old after a while but I can’t help but feel like a loser after I tell my family that I am no longer working and why. It kills me that I am no longer able to function to the point of working. And what is really tough is that I haven’t had surgery in seven years. That was the last time I was in rough shape. People usually think you get better by now. But I am not. Nerve damage takes so long to heal and no one understands that.

Monday I am to see another doctor for the same problem. I don’t know why I am bothering. It’s not like she is going to have any new answers for me other than to lose weight. That is the doctor’s cure all. If you lose weight, you won’t have this problem. Lose weight and you won’t be so depressed. Lose weight and your back will feel better. I wish I dropped a pound every time someone told me to lose weight. I would be skinny in no time. But I seriously doubt that my weight is the ONLY reason I am hurting. Even if I weighed 80 lbs I would still have a bad back and still have nerve damage. Weight cannot change the fact I have had four back surgeries. I have been trying to lose weight for the past three months. It is wicked hard. It takes a lot of work and with the depression it just makes it that much harder. I don’t always stick with it because I get the fuck its. But lately I have been having no appetite so I just been eating cereal as my caloric intake. Also been eating yogurt to try and get my bowels on track but that is the harder road. It sucks eating healthy or at least trying to when junk food is so accessible.

There has been a quote floating around twitter the past few days, that if a crush lasts more than four months, then it probably is love. Then I guess I am in love with my therapist. I have had a crush on her from the very beginning. Another quote fact that has been circulating is that relationships that last longer than seven years tend to last a lifetime. I have found this true with my therapist and psychiatrist. I have known my psychiatrist for nearly half my life and we just past the twenty year mark of working together. I’m screwed.

My left foot is on fire as I am writing this and I’m finding myself feeling empty hearted. Not really downhearted, just feeling empty, like I have nothing inside. And because I feel nothing, I also think I am nothing, that I don’t matter at all to anyone. I’ll just be better off dead.

What would being dead look like? Frankly I don’t know. I’ll be dead. I won’t be in existence anymore. The pain that I feel will cease to be. I will finally be free of pain and misery. Lest I hope I will be. Being free of pain is all that I want. If I didn’t have pain, emotional or physical, I probably would want to live. And I don’t know what that would look like. Probably the same as it does now.