Tag: writing

wondering if it was all a dream

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

wondering if it was all a dream

I took yesterday off from blogging. I was in too much emotional pain to get my thoughts together. I emailed my psychiatrist today to tell her how I was feeling. I see her Friday but my last message to her was about how suicidal I was. I wanted to tell her that has lifted a bit but I still have a profound depression that is rearing its ugly head. I also wanted to let her know I got my fucking menses again. For the past several weeks, I have been dealing with the self-hate of being TG. Now having my menses are just fucking with me and my self-worth. I came pretty close to doing something this time. I had the suicidal impulses and that to me was scary. I didn’t do anything, other than take an extra Ativan to calm down the perturbation/impulsivity. Most of the suicidal thoughts are gone since I started menstruating, which isn’t supposed to happen because I am on pills to stop the fucker. But I still am in tough depression.

So I emailed my psychiatrist and told her, plainly, what was going on. I bet she probably figured out before I did that my suicidal tendencies were due to hormonal shifts. I did tell her the next time it happens, I might not be so lucky. One would think that because I have no job, that writing has become more than a hobby for me, and that I keep myself occupied, I shouldn’t really be depressed. MYTH! I could be deeply depressed even if I was working a full-time job. I know, I have been deeply depressed for years when I was working full-time. Now my writing has taken a little more of a hobby capacity. It has become my livelihood. You could say that I am living because I blog. But after a while, I can’t think of something fresh to write about and the depression hinders my thinking. I panic when this happens. I never know when a depressive episode is going to land me in the hospital. I know my hospitalizations have decreased over the years but I still need one a year, lately. It is just a way for me to recharge my batteries. I hate going in because it sucks waiting in the ER for a long time. I get bored and have to try not to use all the battery on my phone because reception sucks and it drains it all. I usually bring myself to the hospital because I don’t want my family to know. Should I be in the hospital because of this last suicidal episode? I don’t know. I am not feeling like ending my life as much as I did this weekend. My therapist was confused about the texts I sent her. It wasn’t a clear SOS. But then, I always become deceptive when I am suicidal. You can’t kill yourself if a professional knows the 411. Course, if I sent the same message to my pdoc, it probably would have landed me in the hospital. My pdoc doesn’t mess around.

I still wonder why I am still here. I should be dead with how heavy the suicidal thoughts were a yesterday. Course yesterday feels like it was ages ago. I am not saying I lost time. I was fully present throughout the day but now that I have my stupid menses, those heavy thoughts are no longer there and I am wondering if it was all a dream. Every time I get those experiences, I often wonder afterwards, was it a dream. But I know from the texts and blogs I wrote it wasn’t.

My therapist read the therapy and coffee blog that I sent her. She is a little embarrassed about it because I make her sound like a nut job. That wasn’t my intention. I asked her if she wanted me to take it down. She said no because I am free to write whatever I feel like writing. But now I am wondering if I should write a blog about lyrics and therapy. I worked hard on the coffee blog. I would hate to take it down.

Midnight demons are out tonight

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

Midnight demons are out tonight

Since Midnight I have been in some serious pain. I got very distress and despondent. I thought about killing myself and was cursing my therapist for allowing me to still exist. A blogger friend was posting blogs so I asked her if she wanted to chat and we chatted for a few hours. She had to go because she had some stuff to do in the morning. Which is fine. I understand.

I still am in pain three hours later despite taking pain meds and using a pain gel. I don’t think I am going to sleep tonight and all I can think about is killing myself. I posted on FB that I wanted to use a chainsaw to chop my leg off. I seriously wonder if that is the better course of action. Just cut out the part that is hurting. I know there will be something called phantom pain afterwards but it can’t be worse than what I am going through right now. At least then, I will know WHY I am in pain. There is NO FUCKING REASON why I should be in pain. I didn’t do a damn thing today to warrant this pain. There is nothing wrong with my damn foot and ankle. Yet it hurts really bad. And it is burning me so bad. Pain is so bad I can’t even describe it. All I know is that I am hurting and want to kill myself. Just everything is dark and gray. I feel so hopeless. I know I am never going to get better.

I was talking with an ex-coworker tonight. I missed talking with her and she answered my text. We chatted for a bit and she asked when I was coming back to work. When I said I didn’t know if I could because of my pain, she chimed in that if I stop complaining maybe I would have my job back. I was dumbfounded. I couldn’t believe she would say something so insensitive. My pain is real and I suffer greatly. I don’t know why I suffer the way I do but I do. I got really upset. But then I thought she is ignorant and doesn’t know what I go through every day. She doesn’t know how hard it is going down the stairs or that I have to limit my standing time or I will pay dearly for it. Sure I can suck it up and not complain. But then it will only fuel the demons. I kept quiet about my internal psychological pain for years and where did that get me? Nothing but psych hospitalizations after psych hospitalizations. Lead to cutting and drinking and more hospitalizations. So when I can finally express myself, why should I keep my physical pain inside? That is one of the reason why people kill themselves because people don’t know just how bad their pain hurts them. That is why people see their doctors only to get turned away because their pain doesn’t show up on any test. My x-rays and MRI shows there is nothing physically wrong with me. Yet my pain is real and it hurts really bad right now. So bad I am thinking of taking my life. So how can that be made up? How can it be held inside? The longer I keep it to myself the deeper it grows. They say that if you swear after stubbing a toe it lessens the pain. Well no matter much I swear, there is no lessening of this pain. I must rely on pain medication to help me deal with my pain. I wish it worked on my psychological pain but it doesn’t. Nothing helps my psychological pain. When both flares up (physical and psych) I am in the deepest waters struggling to stay afloat. Sometimes I am successful and sometimes I am not. When I am not, someone comes by with a dinghy and I stay afloat.

I think my foot hurts just because it wants to. I think that I have been in pain for so long it doesn’t know what else to do but hurt me. And that causes my demons to worse and give me self doubt that this is all in my head. My therapist thinks that because of PTSD I have to be treated for my pain for my own safety. That if I am not treated, my PCP might as well just sign my death certificate. She is partially right. But I have a high pain tolerance and I haven’t been in this much pain in sometime. I know it is because the weather changes and having Hurricane Arthur pass by didn’t help me much. Plus this whole up 90 degrees and then down to 70 degrees really wrecks havoc on me. That’s a 20 degree difference. It hurts!

I keep looking at my pill bottle and wonder what will happen if I empty it. I have never OD’d on Tylenol before so I am kind of scared that it will cause me liver damage that I will regret. I think that is the only thing saving me from taking the rest of the bottle and hoping for the best. If I had a barbiturate or some other powerful sedating drug handy, I would take it. I just need/want some sleep. It’s 0330. I am glad I don’t have to get up early tomorrow. But I know I am only going to get a few hours of sleep and wake up. Probably wake up at 6 or 7. I might as well wait till 0400 to try and get some sleep. I took two pain pills to try and get me to calm down this pain. I just need it to be a 3 so I can sleep. It is a 7 on a scale of 1-10. I am sure that once I get nice and comfy, I will have to use the bathroom. Never fails. UGH how I hate that.

Nervous

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

Nervous

My idiot therapist wanted me to send my pdoc the blog I wrote yesterday (Dreary Day). Well I sent it to her forgetting that I wasn’t taking my meds. Now I know my pdoc is going to be mad at me because I didn’t tell her first. I am in so much trouble and this was the last thing I needed right now. She is probably going to recommend a psych admission and I am not going to be for it. There is a holiday coming up so there is no way I am going in to do nothing for four days. I can do that at home. Plus I am out of my pain meds. God this sucks. I am running low on my anti psychotic and I am out of my pain meds until Monday when I see my PCP. I feel like I am going crazy.

I took some extra meds to sleep because my toes are on fire and hurt really bad. I took a couple of Neurontin pills and a couple of Ativan. I should be asleep but this nervousness is keeping me awake. I just put some gel on my toes to quiet them down some or I am not getting any sleep until the wee hours of the morning.

I am such an idiot. I don’t know why I sent her that blog. I would have been enough with what I said about thinking of killing myself every day and not caring. I didn’t have to send her the blog. Maybe she didn’t read the blog and I am ok. But my stats show there has been activity on the blog so someone has been reading it. I wish I could track down who reads it, like the location or something but I am not good at that stuff. Gel seems to be working on my toes. Soon as it dries, I am going to sleep. It is going to be a rough few days without taking any pain meds. I hope I can survive. I have never run out before. I do have my really strong meds if I need them. But I don’t want to take it for my “moderate” pain. I will if it gets to be to much. I just hate being in pain and I know this is going to drive up my suicidality.
Bozo, though I have fired her multiple times today, still thinks she is my therapist. She doesn’t want to leave me the hell alone. I would tell my Pdoc off but I am too afraid that she will send the police after me if I do. Bozo has threatened but never has done so. As much as I feel suicidal, I still feel ok to go about my business as usual. No one but my therapist and now my pdoc knows I am suicidal. I like it that way. It gives me freedom to plan my death. I really don’t know what I will do. I thought of OD’g but that is messy. There are so many ways to die but it is so hard to kill the human body. I know, I have tried several times and failed. I am a suicide attempt survivor, what ever that means. It is a relatively new term. I have been using it as a hashtag on twitter when I try and promote my book. I want to die so badly yet I don’t know how and that is frustrating me. I feel like I did when I was a kid and couldn’t figure out how to die. It is so maddening. I have an arsenal of meds at my disposal. Anyone can really do me some harm but I don’t want to do it in my house.

I guess I will talk to the fired therapist tomorrow and see what she has to say about the pdoc knowing about my stupid plan of stretching out my anti-psychotic med. She is not going to be happy with me and I don’t blame her. I just hope she doesn’t section me. Section means that a mental health professional involuntarily hospitalizes you for up to 72 hours at a mental health facility for evaluation. My evaluation would be delayed because of the stupid holiday and I won’t have privileges like to use my headphones or charge my phone. And that will suck. I don’t want to go to the hospital to be babysat. I can be fine at home. I just won’t go out so that I am not tempted to jump in front of moving vehicles or trains. I can be safe with my meds because I don’t want my niece to find me or my mother.

It is so difficult to explain to someone all this. You want the help but at the same time you know that it is useless. It is just so tiring. OMG I don’t believe the baseball game. 16-9. It’s like a football score! Dear holy crist! Thank god I wasn’t watching it. I just kept getting score updates. And I was cursing with every run the Cubs made. Bad time to be a Red Sox fan. They are drowning like I am. But no one sees it. No one sees the struggle I go through every day. Just to take a shower is a hassle. I have to be next to no pain for me to stand 10 mins in the shower. Then quickly dry off and maybe take a nap afterwards because it wore me out. Lately this hasn’t happened but I do get tired and more pain during the day after I push myself. No one understands chronic pain except another person with chronic pain. They know that you have to have rest days in between or you are fucked. That was why I was tied up for three weeks. I couldn’t have a rest day in between and I kept going. I paid for it dearly but not being able to bear weight on my leg for almost three days. It got so bad I thought I would have to go to the ER. But then I remembered I had strong pain pills and that helped greatly. It helped me rest and re-coop.

I fired my therapist today, several times

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

It is really hot today and the humidity is killing me, making me really irritable. I only left my room for the usual items: coffee, food, and bathroom. I did manage to go to the bank to make a withdrawal. I am going to ask my Brother in law for some cash because I need my meds. And this month I am short. It’s my own fault because I thought I wouldn’t need groceries. I can never keep it to the minimum of what I need.

Sallie Mae keeps calling me every three hours now. I am going to answer the next time they call and make them look like a fool. If they ask what can I pay them, I will say $10/month. Screw them. I can barely buy groceries and they want $132+ dollars a month? Fuck them.

I talked to my therapist even though I fired her. I wasn’t in a talking mood. She did the SSF to see where I was. I was so out of it I don’t remembered what I answered. Doesn’t matter now. My sister is home so I can’t kill myself even if I really wanted to. There is no way I am killing myself with the potential of my little niece finding me. So I am stuck here, again. And I am not happy about it.

The only good news to report is that my pain levels have shifted downward. I am not in as much pain as I was. I hope this stays this way for the next week because I am out of my pain meds, again. I don’t know what possessed me to have my doc reduce my number of pills. Course, there was a time when I was hardly taking them. I would have pain flares at least twice a month. Now it’s like almost every week. I know it is just to adjust to the temperature. I get that but why does it have to be so painful?

I started a letter, in a word doc, that I thought I would post as a blog. It was for my therapist and her foolish ways about me wanting to live. Anyways, it got a little more personal than I would like and never published it. I might read it to her tomorrow or might password it so she can open it but she isn’t too tech savvy so I am not sure it is worth doing. I might get more aggravated than helped.

Issues around my body came about today. I told her I was ugly and there is no fixing that. She was trying to tell me otherwise but it was falling on deaf ears. I can tell I really want to talk about this because I keep checking the internet and twitter for the past 1/2 hour. So I will just leave it as I am ugly and my therapist is fired because she thinks otherwise.