Tag: writing

can’t sleep

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

I am writing this after being up for almost an hour now. I woke up from my “nap” at six in the evening and now I find that I can’t go back to sleep. I am tired so I know that I can but something is keeping me up so I thought I would write for a bit.

I got my new suicidology book, Treating Suicidal Behavior today. One of the reviews on Amazon said that it was wordy. Now I know that to be true but I wanted to read more about the commitment to living piece that I read in another article by the same writers. This little tidbit is not going in my book. It’s not that I don’t understand it, it is just that it goes against my grain to list it. And my book mostly deals with David Jobes. I like his work better. He doesn’t follow a specific discipline such as cognitive behavior therapy.

my therapist wants me to write up a CTS (commitment to treatment statement) but I am not up to it. Already I feel like I am pushing her in ways she doesn’t want to be pushed, that I again have to take charge of my treatment when this woman should already be doing that. It is exhausting. Taking charge of your own treatment is exhausting. Friday when I see my pdoc, I am going to tell her I want to be on Remeron again. if only for a few weeks. I need to sleep through the night and I am not. I just feel that maybe if I take a little antidepressant, it might work enough so I don’t kill myself this month. Though I really don’t want to live to see 2014. I really don’t. I am not prepared. I wasn’t expecting to live this long and I am. Can’t that be a statement? That if I don’t want to live anymore I have the right to end my life? I think it will be easier than trying to come up with a statement that is for living that I know is just going to sit on my therapist’s desk and not go anywhere. Yes we will sign it and all will be good for that session. Then the next session will go back to talking about stupid things and we will forget about our agreement that we made the session before. I could get crafty. But that will involve thinking more than I should. I just don’t want to be here anymore and if I don’t know why I don’t want to be here anymore, there is no point in going on. yes we can say that my childhood is the reason why I don’t want to be here. I was abused in more ways than one and thought about death all the time because I wanted to escape that living situation. I still want to escape. I want to escape from the pain and darkness that has invaded my soul.

I didn’t write this in a word document like I usually do. I am kind of anal about my blogs and how they are organized. but sometimes you just have to free write. 19 days.13 to end this. maybe my story about ending my life will become true.

I am lazy

by Midnight Demon, posted in blogging, cauda equina syndrome, chronic physical pain, depression

Bitch rant

I have to complain about my game that I play consistently, on a daily basis, a few times a day. I love that this game gives you missions to complete but now they are getting ridiculous! For even the missions have missions. And you need the help of your neighbors to complete them or you might as well kiss the mission goodbye. I have opened other Facebook accounts just to play this game and then I realized the other day that I am just playing against myself! But unless you have a “neighbor” to give you all that you need every day, there is no other way to win the game/mission. Unless you spend money on the game for horseshoes. I used to do that when I was working. Now I pick and choose when to get horseshoes. I know none of this is making sense because I don’t think anyone plays Pioneer Trail on Facebook but if you do, don’t start. I have a lower level account and finished ONE stinking mission and got NINE, 9!!! In its place!!!

Talked with my therapist today. Though I don’t know if you want to call it really talking. She was quiet today. So I was too. Weird how that worked out because usually she is excessively talking about something. We talked about the transgender issues again and she pulled a name out of a hat, another doctor for me to see. I told her she doesn’t get that I don’t want to see any more doctors. I am DONE seeing doctors. The only one that I want to see if my primary care doctor and that is it. I don’t want to see any of his colleagues either. Unless I develop another fricken problem, I am not seeing another doctor. I know this doctor is different and will help with the transgender stuff. But there is a chance she could be another bitch that refuses to listen to me and then where will I be? What if she deems me too suicidal and decides that treatment for transgender is just too much for me. I can’t go through that type of rejection. It will kill me.

We also talked about the consultant. I wanted her to have him as a support and she only wanted to hear that I will see him again. Well I can’t because I can’t afford him, not with my insurance. I hate my insurance but I have to make do with it. But I can’t see an out of network doctor and this consultant is that.

I don’t remember what else we talked about. I really wasn’t in the mood for talking. I just wanted to go back to sleep. I have the same time appointment tomorrow to talk with her. Yay…not.

I didn’t work on my book today. I felt like crap too much to do much of anything. I didn’t even make myself coffee. I should start psyching myself up now to maybe leave the house tomorrow and get coffee. I knew that having Keurig cups was going to be the death of me. Why should I leave the house when I have coffee at home. And I have two different flavors of Starbucks coffee. I have the house blend and my Pike’s coffee. Both are sooooo good. But I need to get out of the house. I have been in since Saturday, maybe? I don’t even know the last time I left the house, oh dear. That should tell you something…And tomorrow is Wednesday. So almost three days in the house. I don’t think I have showered since Sunday.

And to make the day worse, my favorite catcher for the Red Sox is now going to a National team, the Marlins. Great. Now I got to deal with the likes of a guy’s name I can’t even begin to spell. You say it Perninski, but there is a z and J in there somewhere. I have to look it up and I am too lazy.

at least we can say we tried

by Midnight Demon, posted in depression, suicide, transgender

All too often I get the how is your back, you look good bullshit. I want to strangle the person sometimes, especially when I have had a bad night the night before. No one gets it. My family keep telling me to see this podiatrist or go to this hospital or see this doctor. But they don’t get I am tired of seeing doctors who only want to stick a needle in my back or ankle and then say ok at least we tried, good luck to you and leave me hanging with NO FURTHER TREATMENT. Or they look at my ankle and xrays/Mri’s and find that there is nothing wrong with my back anymore or that my ankle looks perfectly normal. Well if it was perfectly normal why do I have friggen pain all the time?? I had another pain bout last night that I was climbing the walls with. And I didn’t do anything yesterday that would have caused it. I am just so tired of being in pain but I got to live with it and it sucks.

Last night I was in the deep throws of dealing with bad ankle pain. I wrote the above just now in response to an email that a fellow CESSG member wrote. I thought it would give me something more to write on but I just can’t think of anything more to say. I am all tired out from being in pain all night. Sure I had my coffee this morning and it was very good but it didn’t loosen my thought process any. I am struggling right now, really struggling with pain and my menses and the depression. No one understands. These three things make me want to kill myself. There is no one I can talk to about it. I sent off the blog I wrote last night to my pdoc, hoping for a response and still have not received one. Maybe she got mad at me because I wrote that she didn’t get it because she always uses the wrong pronoun with me. I don’t care. In my mind, I am a he, not a she. I think I got to let the group (the CES group) know that I have decided to change my name again. This one is a little more permanent and one that I have used since I was a teenager. I might still use Mike from time to time. I like the name, even if it is a common one. But for now I think I will just stick with GC. I don’t know if I will ever change my name permanently but I know that I like being called this and that is part of the transition.

The depression I can handle most of the time, except when everything I do drains me. It takes such an effort to get out of bed, to do daily living activities, etc. I rather just lay in bed and do nothing or instead I just play on my laptop or look at a blank page of a word document wondering if the words will come.

The menses are just an insult to me. I can’t handle it. I detest it with every fiber of my being. It is the constant reminder that I am not a male no matter how bad my brain thinks I am. It confuses the hell out of me and makes me think instant thoughts of suicide. I think it probably would take a suicide attempt for my treaters to know that I am serious when I tell them this makes me suicidal to the Nth degree. I can’t live like this anymore. And again I am downcasted by the psych profession. Call it what you will Gender dysphoria or transgenderism. I don’t care. I just know that I am in the wrong body and I want to kill myself be that is the ONLY way to solve the problem. Obviously birth control pills are not working. I have been on them for at least two years now and they just are not working. I get a few months break and then I get my menses again. This isn’t right. I don’t think my repro endo doctor care either. To her, I am just another female that cannot tolerate her period. But is it normal to want to kill yourself every time you get the bloody thing (pun intended)?? I don’t think so.

moments 2

by Midnight Demon, posted in blogging, suicide, transgender

Moments

There have been many moments where I find myself thinking about suicide and moments where I wanted to act upon them very badly. Right now is one of those moments. I am suffering under a heavy coat of depression caused by physical pain and now mental pain because my body has gone back into female mode and I have my menses again. I wish I could say that I like it but I don’t. It kills me when I get it. I just feel so empty and despairing and there is no one I can talk to about it. I know I should seriously just end my life and leave people wondering why because that will be easier than trying to tell them I killed myself because I am in the wrong body. Even though I have tried to explain myself to a couple of people I still get called the “proper” pronoun and gender pronoun given this biological body. I must be crazy thinking that I am a male. And it hurts. I am hurting because I cannot get away from my menses. They can put a man on the moon yet they cannot stop this hurt. WTF. I was hoping it was just spotting but the true colors came out as I went to the bathroom just a few minutes ago. Just lovely. Here I am trying to finish my book and now I got to deal with this? I really just want to die. It’s bad enough that I have pain, physical pain that is so putting me over the top. But no one believes me when I tell them I want to be a male. My psychiatrist that I have known forever still calls me a “her”. I don’t tell her it bothers me because I am afraid that I will break down. I have never stood up for myself. Even when my father called me “his daughter”, I wanted to scream at him that I was really his son. I took a lot of meds tonight to deal with my pain, this was before my little trip to the bathroom. I am starting to feel the effects of the pain meds and muscle relaxers. Moments like these I wish I took too much. But I can’t risk having my mother or sister find my body in that state. It would devastate them to no end. Not like my death won’t do that to them anyways, but it’s better to remember me some other way. I am a transgender and that is why I want to die. I don’t think anyone can help me with this. I am too far gone. I am too far developed. But if only my menses could be stopped permanently would I not think about suicide all the time. Meds are kicking in really fast so I will end here. And unfortunately, I know that I will wake up tomorrow. That is truly a pity. I don’t want to wake up tomorrow or any other day. My life revolves around stuff that I don’t want it to be. Now I have to keep track of the bleeding and when it started and I just don’t want to. I just want to die. I just don’t want to exist anymore. Why is that so hard for anyone to understand that I would be better off dead. My psychiatrist would want me to call her right now but it’s 1 o’clock in the morning and I don’t want to bother her with my mundane argument. We have had these go rounds before and they usually, almost always, result in me going to the hospital for more mundane treatment. Moments like this, I wish there was a switch that could just end my life. And poof I will be gone…