Tag: writing

Ankle Chronicles, Part 2

by Midnight Demon, posted in cauda equina syndrome, CES, depression, medical

Been 72 hours since the pain in my left ankle started and the swelling has been intense. I have not been able to get the swelling down even a notch despite elevating it and putting ice on it. I have tried to rest but I get so antsy that I have to go downstairs to munch on something or to go to the bathroom. I hate going downstairs more than having to climb up. Going down I have to go one step at a time and because my proprioception (sense of sensing) is off I have to look at where my feet are before taking the next step or risk a fall down the stairs. I’ve been lucky so far as I have been able to catch my balance to avoid a fall but that is because I am holding the banister for dear life while I go down the 15 or so steps, one at a time like a little kid.

I remember I used to make fun of my childhood friend who went down the stairs one at a time, but that was back when we were kids. Now I’m an adult and don’t trust myself to go one foot over the other because my nerves are messed up due to Cauda Equina syndrome. It is a painful nerve condition that is caused most likely by prolapsed or herniated discs that affect the cauda equina (horse’s tail) bundle of nerves. These nerves are what controls all nerve and motor function below the waist. Because I was “lucky” enough to have this happen to me twice in 5 yrs, I am now left with permanent nerve damage in my left ankle/foot/leg, specifically, my peroneous muscles and tendons. These muscle and tendons are what causes my ankle/foot to go out to the left while walking. Because this is not normal walking, the muscle and tendons are constantly being inflamed by me pulling on them. They are not supposed to used while walking but I am forcing them to. Plus because I still have weakness in my ankle that does not help. This weakness when added to fatigue makes me walk worse.

Again the weakness was caused by CES, Cauda Equina Syndrome x 2. You never realize how much you take for walking for granted until it is taken away from you. I used to be able to walk miles without difficulty. Now I am lucky to go three blocks without pain. My life sucks. I hate not being able to walk for exercise or for traveling. Now instead of walking to the train station that is a mile away, I am forced to take a bus. I am grateful that I can get a seat most days and that I don’t have to stand on the bus because that just puts added pressure on my tendons.

Not too many people really care that I walk with an AFO (ankle foot orthotic) brace. Only small children will stare. Most adults won’t even notice. I went to my Aunt’s 90th birthday party a few months ago and though I was wearing my AFO, no one really said anything until I walked toward or away from them. But they are my family and love me anyway.

Because I had worked as a lab assistant, my job could not accommodate my restricted walking so now I am out of work. I am on disability. I feel like a sleeze bag because I can’t work anymore. It kills me to not have anything to do day in and day out. Most days I stay inside because I just don’t have the energy to go out, even if it’s just for a cup of coffee at Starbucks. Lately my time at home has been increased to the point that I might go out just to get a soda. Having to rely on the bus and bus schedules makes you regret having to go out. Sometimes the bus is on time and all is right with the world. Most of the time it is late. And it sucks having to stand and wait for it. Even though I can have a seat on the bus, there is no bench to sit on at most bus stops. And standing is truly what causes my leg pain to flair up. I take medication but only if I’m home. I stopped taking it when going out because it caused me to have dizzy spells and to feel out of it at times. Better to feel out of it at home than while out on the street.

And now it’s the day after I load myself up on meds to control the pain. I usually feel ok after I have a day of meds but sometimes all it talks is to go up and down a flight of stairs to aggravate my damn ankle/nerve injury. The “simple” act of going up and down stairs can be torture for me. People take it for granted until that sprained ankle or hurt knee is involved. Then they realize it is not as simple as one might think it to be.

So that is my chronicle for today. Thank you for reading.

I can see it now…

by Midnight Demon, posted in suicide attempt

The Red Sox have taken the lead and win the World Series…OOPS, wrong season wrong year. That is just a dream. The last game of the abysmal, heartbreaking, disappointing 2012 season will be played tonight, in the Bronx, against the mortal enemy, the New York Skankees. The Cowboys of 2003 are long gone. So are the Idiots of 2004. Sadly there is only one player of the former Red Sox Nation that is now a mortal enemy, Derek Lowe. Yes, Landsdowne Lowe is now in pinstripes. This 2012 season cannot get anymore depressing than that.

So go Orioles, BEAT those overpaid Bronx Bombers and win the World series against the Nationals. Least that is my dream for this year. The postseason will be interesting. The underdogs have risen above and will be playing the final games of the year. I will be depressed but always hopeful. As a faithful of Red Sox Nation, there is always next year.

this is just a blog

by Midnight Demon, posted in depression, mental disorders, mental illness, suicide, suicide attempt

This is just a blog as I finally have some idea of what to write. This blogging every day has not been easy for me so I have learned to blog every other day or so just to keep things fresh. Most of my blogs deal with my severe depression and negative thinking. I cannot help what pops into head and what I write. My writing is my release from the everyday misery most people call life but I call hell.

Past few days I have been getting the itch to do something, anything, to try and get my leg swelling down. I have been in bed most of the day today but still the swelling has not gone down so I went out to get some cookies and some oatmeal because we didn’t have any in the house. I ordered lunch from Redbones, a southern place that makes good ribs. One rib was really fatty and disgusting so I let it be and ate the other less fatty ones. Though I usually enjoy their ribs, I found that today’s selection was not so great. I tried their fried Okra for the first time and it was tasteless. Twenty bucks down the drain. I should have tried to make the trip to Boston to get my bottle of Chianti and Pad Thai from the King and I restaurant. They have the BEST Pad Thai in this area.

Pain is bad in my ankle so I didn’t end up going farther than a block from my house. I still want my bottle of wine and Pad thai, maybe tomorrow.

I have had some good ideas on what to write for future blogs but I just can’t seem to get more than the ideas out on paper. For instance, I started writing about myself as Michael and that is where I ended. I could go no further than that. I guess because Michael means so much to me that I have a hard time expressing him. It is really personal to talk as Michael. Michael is my transgendered persona. I am a transgendered individual and I have been struggling a lot with this the past few years. It is getting more and more real as I try to think of what I want to be named. I hate my birth name but then I hate everything about me. From my face to my breasts all I can see is ugliness. I am ugly and no one can really tell me different no matter what they say.

Since I was little, I always preferred to be called “Mike”. It just sounded like a cool name. I would play pretend with my best childhood buddy. He would change his name to John and I would be Mike. I longed for the day when I could really be a “Mike”. It has been difficult the past few years because frankly I just rather kill myself than change. I remember watching a “Bones” episode of a transgendered female and though he had hormonally been a female, his bones still showed her to be a male. I find this very depressing. That I can go through the hormonal change and all but still have the bone structure of a female is haunting me to no end. I cannot change that no matter how hard I try. It fills me with a sadness that can be palpable. 

I have not discussed this beyond my blog and therapy sessions. It is so hard to talk about. Why am I putting it out on the world wide web? Because I am hoping that someone will read this and think “yup that is me” and understand what I am going through. It can be anonymous, I will never meet this person but at least they will know that they are not alone with this. I am trying to come to terms with it and have difficulty and knowing that transgendered persons are more likely to kill themselves are a big concern of mine because I can also be so suicidal when my identity is attacked. I still am around and I am sure others are also. I am sure they have attempted to kill themselves because they are tired of living a lie like I am. I feel crazy and sometimes like a freak because I know that I am a female but my head keeps telling me I am not. I can’t explain it more than that.

a little of this, a little of that

by Midnight Demon, posted in depression, medical, mental illness, suicide, suicide attempt

To write or not to write, that is the question. Been trying the past few days to write something, anything and I came up with nothing. I had jotted down one of my statuses as a starter to write but it too has not gone anywhere. Right now as I am writing this I am becoming exhausted. I was hoping my therapist would call me tonight but it doesn’t look promising.

Been thinking the past few days about needs. Everyone has some need that is not being fulfilled at any given time. Shneidman, the father of suicidology thought there were 20 needs that lead to suicide. I talk about him a lot in my writing so people know this sweet man that called me out of the blue one day. I was actually shaken up by his phone call. To me, he was as famous as Richard Gere. I was so honored that I didn’t know what to say to him when I called. Time was of the essence because his health was frail and if he died before I called him, I would never had the courage to talk with him for a half hour that truly was the highlight of my life. Now if Dr. Jobes ever calls me, I will have a heart attack. He is another person I deeply respect because he writes about suicide and what it is like and not only this but developed an assessment that can be used to help save someone’s life. I will write about his works until my dying day because he has the knowhow of what it is to be suicidal. I am not saying that he is or ever has been suicidal, but he has lead the way in the collaboration of so many professionals for one goal, to end suicide. Granted not all suicidal people can be saved, but he is willing to try, which is more than what I can say for some of the top professionals in Boston. I had my doubts ever since I tried getting a new therapist and failed, ten times!! No one would take me on and then the one, the last one that did was afraid of me. I couldn’t be in that therapy if someone is afraid of me because I am high risk. Sure, statistically I should be dead. But by the grace of some higher power, I am not.

That brings me back to the needs. I have been thinking about what my needs are that are not being met that drive me suicidal. I know that I am not loved, I have a need to feel important because I think I am nothing, I have a drive to succeed but yet I know I will fail. That truly is my biggest thing. I failed at killing myself and feel terrible at that loss. It is a loss that I have yet to get over. I still truly believe that I am meant to die by my own hand though there still is a drive to keep me going. I was asked recently on what it is that keeps me here. To tell the truth I have no idea. Some part of it is faith and hope, others is a pesky therapist that will “die” if I die. The aftermath of a suicide is not pretty. I sometimes wish I could be a part of Jobes world for a little bit and see what he sees in a hopeless case like me. What he would say or do to try and ease my suffering and then I look at my therapist who is doing all she can to keep me sane and alive. There is nothing more that she can do that what she is doing. Suicidal thinking has become a part of me that I can’t let go. I read about it every day to try and ease my pain, I work with my therapist who is a pain in the ass sometimes and she is open to my ideas of what treatment is and does not have the “I know it all you know nothing” attitude. If she did, I doubt that I would have stayed with her for this long.

The twenty needs are abatement, achievement, affiliation, aggression, autonomy, counteraction, defendence, deference, dominance, exhibition, harm avoidance, inviolacy, nurturance, order, play, rejection, sentience, shame avoidance, succorance, and understanding. If I was to fill out the model of the needs, my highest would be affiliation, achievement, succorance, nurturance, and understanding. As I have written in a previous paper (https://midnightdemons7.wordpress.com/2012/09/03/is-suicide-caused-by-psychological-pain/),  the twenty needs are weighted on the sum of 100, though Dr. Shneidman does not say what the scale is for each of the 20, and as much as I have tried to ascertain this information through his research, I have not been able to find it. Everyone has these needs in some way shape or form. And when they become blocked or frustrated, suicidal thinking occurs. I know my need for affiliation is great at times that sometimes I get frustrated. I don’t necessarily become suicidal all the time because I have not been friends with someone but I’ll admit that it is lonely when you don’t have too many friends that call you anymore or that just keep in touch via email. I am a loner by nature but that doesn’t mean that I am friendless.  My online contacts mean more to me than my non-online friends. My family does not know too much about what I write, if they read my blogs at all. But this is my livelihood, writing about suicide because it means so much to me. It is the biggest demon I have had to face in my life and sometimes it gets the better part of me.

This past April I went to the annual conference of the American Association of Suicidology and found out some things I already knew. I met my favorite suicidologist and his trainees again. One of his trainees has become a good friend of mine. I also found out that I am a hopeless case that no one in their right mind would want. I am high risk, psychotic and delusional at times, and have multiple suicide attempts. I asked one of the guys from Mayo about this “case” I was working on and he wouldn’t touch it with a ten foot pole. Thanks dude, you really shown me how much hope I have for my future. It was an exhausting trip. Next one is in Texas and I am not sure if I am going to go. I have never been that far out west. I really don’t know anyone close by. I would have to stay at a hotel for the few days. But it might be fun to meet up with my co-author and discuss my book that she wants me to write. She is the biggest proponent in my writing right now. She had me publish my blog and it has done well so far. Since I started it in July, I have had almost a thousand views. I hope that I am able to meet up with her in Texas but I don’t think I will have the financial resources to pull it off.

I got notification this week that I am found to be disabled. My social security disability has gone through. I now can collect a check every month while I write and not have to worry about how I am going to pay for my Starbucks coffee habit. Starbucks is truly what keeps  me going some days. It is a chance for me to go out of the house, even if it exhausts me. To have that one cup of joy a day is usually all I can get out of my day. Instead of my mocha, lately I have been enjoying the Blue Java of Indonesia. It has a full bodied flavor that I like. I have tried the Panama but wasn’t too thrilled with it. It was a little too earthly flavored. I am going to try the blue mountain as it seems like I will like it. But none of this would be possible if I was not deemed disabled due to my mental illness. Since I found out I have been more depressed. I find it more exhausting to do tasks. Even my writing as dwindled to what it was. I try journaling to keep the ideas going and sometimes I will write something I think worthy of a blog but mostly I keep my personal thoughts personal. There was a time when I used to share my journal with my therapist as a sort of therapeutic processing, but seeing as I don’t see her physically anymore, I might end up sending her an email about my thoughts on certain things. Like my suicide attempt paper I wrote that was extremely difficult for me to write. It stirred up a lot of emotions, some of which I had no idea I was still carrying around.

The reasons I am still around are many but sometimes that is not so obvious in a crisis. It truly is up to the individual to make the choice and no one can take it away. But if they let a professional know they are hurting and thinking of taking their life, they might be able to get the help they need. I just hope that with that help the person finds someone who is understanding and asks, “where do you hurt”?  Because otherwise it is going to be a long road for that person to find the help they need. Not all professionals are alike. They have different disciplines and treatment plans. But if they are able to find a therapist who is willing to take them as they are, that therapist is worth their weight in gold.