Tag: writing

exhaustion, pain, and therapy

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

As my mother would say, I did nothing at all today to warrant feeling utterly exhausted. What she didn’t know is that I woke up three times during the night because of pain and had to take my pain medication each time I woke up. She doesn’t get that I don’t sleep at night, ever. It is a rare event now to get at least 6 straight hours of sleep at night. I have been managing only 3-4 so far for the past week. It’s only seven o’clock and I feel like I have been up all day even though I did get up at noon, a half hour before my therapy session. I made breakfast even though my ankle was killing me. It started last night when I got home from the party and hasn’t really let up. Today I got a compression sleeve for the ankle and put it on. It really helped with pain control. I have had it on for a couple of hours and had to take it off because the material was annoying me. Now the pain is returning. You can wear the compression sleeve for 24 hrs but I don’t want my skin to get annoyed with me. Because my foot/ankle is nerve damage, even socks annoy me after a length of time.

I really want to take a nap but then I will be up in a few hours and won’t sleep through the night. It is a vicious cycle.

I talked with my therapist today. She read both my blogs on my rant about her and my transgender. She really wants me to see this transgender doctor at the LGBTQ health center in town. But I told her I can’t. We were supposed to get back to the other blog, where we come up with something different than how she is handling my suicidal crisis and I suggested that she have her doctor prescribe her valium. I was sort of half joking/being serious. I don’t know what is going to ease her anxiety about me being in a suicidal crisis. I just know that it is interfering with me telling her what I need to tell her. I remember a time where I could tell her my plans and she might not agree with them and I know she certainly didn’t want me to go through with them but she listened to it. Now it’s literally like she panics soon as I get another hair brained idea to kill myself. Oh and I wanted tomorrow off just so I could sleep in. You would have thought I was trying to steal the Hope diamond. SHE went berserk on that plan so I countered with a session for Thursday. She is like the mother hen from psycho land or something. She always wants to know what I am doing. My own mother could care less what I am doing and where I am going.

So the reason I bring this up is to try and think of a way in my exhausted state to tell my therapist she really needs valium or another way of handling me. But what does that look like? I am not her so I can’t just tell her to fuck off, I mean I can but it’s not going to get me anywhere. How am I supposed to get her to calm down? And why am I the one to think of these things?? Shouldn’t therapists already know how to handle shit? It’s not like I am confessing a gruesome murder or something. Well, maybe. In a sense I am telling her how I am completing my own murder of self. But it’s not like I am chopping off my head and body parts. Though right now the only body part I would LOVE to chop off would be my ankle. I got to seriously think about this one because I don’t know what to do. I generally like to be on my own about this stuff and she doesn’t want me to be alone. Maybe that is what she should do, leave me alone and let me tell her whatever it is that is running through my rabbit brained mind. I know the chance of me acting on such thoughts are small. But thinking those thoughts give me a release that helps me get through the darkness. But as we were talking about today, if I don’t talk about the dark thoughts, if I keep them inside without anyone hearing them, Then Mr. Hyde is going to come out and start with the suicide notes, and this time it might be more people out there than just my blog can reach.

difference is hormones

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

*****WARNING MIGHT BE TRIGGERING*******

I was listening to some old songs tonight and it got me into a depressive funk. I then started to think of why I am depressed as I had no real reason to be. I started mindlessly picking at my chin. Then I realized I shaved off my goatee yesterday. I think a bit of my “manhood” went with it because my mother yelled at me to shave it off. She is never going to be accepting of the transgender identity I have. I guess that is why I feel so depressed and suicidal. I feel no one understands me. My sisters didn’t say anything about the goatee I was wearing in support of my baseball team. My father had nothing to say. Not even my soon to be 90 year old Aunt/Godmother said anything when I saw her in the hospital a few weeks ago.

The reality is that I am a female, not a male like my brain and my feelings think I am. It makes me sick. Really it does. I should be in the grave by now. They always say that transgendered are the most likely to kill themselves. I don’t know why I just don’t go downstairs and get the rope. End it sometime after this week. I can play with the knots and length of rope I will need. I never intended to kill myself at my own house but hotels are too expensive and I don’t have a credit card anymore. I couldn’t get one unless I was paying THEM to get it.

I don’t know why I keep struggling to hold on. Even now I am just saying one more day to get through, just one more day. I don’t want one more day. I want to be dead NOW. Sure there are people I can talk to about this stuff, not. No one understands what I am going through. I don’t even understand what I am going through so how is anyone else? Yet tomorrow I am supposed to put on a happy face and see my family for my Aunt’s 90th birthday celebration and pretend that nothing is wrong with my life. I feel like my whole life is just a poser, an imposter of some sort. I have the façade of someone else all the time. But who that is, I don’t know. But don’t we all at one point have different sides of self? But this isn’t a side of me. This is the whole me that wants to die because I can’t be a male. I was looking at a photo of my Mexican friend with his little Mexican mustache and I was so jealous. Jealous because he can grow facial hair better than I ever could. And the difference is hormones. I have been contemplating getting supplements that boost testosterone. Only problem is that I am afraid it might also kill my liver or some other important organ. I know someone that gets hormones through a gym but I am not the type to do anything illegal. I don’t even know if I could “shoot” up the stuff in the first place. But I am getting far a field with these ideas.

The way I see it I have two choices: die or become a male. And frankly, dying seem a hell of a lot easier.

essay written in 2004

by Midnight Demon, posted in blogging, depression

It all depends on the individual. The person has to admit they have a problem before treatment is going to sink in. It’s one of the hardest things to do is admit that you have a problem and are powerless to not give in to your impulse. I have done this many times when I feel suicidal. I know it’s not the same as narcotics, ETOH, or even nicotine, but there was a time that it was just as bad as any drug could be. AA helped to deal with it, I can’t explain how; it just did once I admitted to myself that one day I would die by my own hand. No amount of therapy or hospitalizations was going to help if I really wanted to die and no one could stop me if I absolutely wanted to. It’s a choice that I have struggled with for years and will continue to, but once I decided that I have to be here for my kids, it was either commit suicide or have them bear the pain of hurting them or to be there for them when they really need me. I chose to be there for them and even though at times it kills me to struggle through another depressive episode, I have to remind myself that the love that I have for them and them for me is greater than any pain the suicidal impulse has. I was read that it only takes ten minutes to kill yourself and if you wait those minutes out, chances are you will survive. It’s not easy, but once you make up your mind to do it or not, the choice is still yours. I have taken this approach to many things and it’s always work for me.
1-Feb-04
Depression wise, I can’t even begin to think about it. I have been working with my therapist about my past relationships. Until I got slammed with insomnia, pain, and another bout of depression. I told her Thursday that each episode is like the first time, you forget that you got past the last one. You know you did, don’t know how but you did and then you get stuck with another one and you think that you can’t go through it again or why bother. Yet I fucking do and I have no idea why. Actually that is not true. My nephew and my nieces are my reason. Sometimes I don’t think it’s enough and they would be better off. God, I have no idea when this nightmare will ever end. I was doing some research and there is a suicidal place in NY that studies post mortem suicides. Hell, if it would help, I would donate some brain samples today if it would end this feeling of wanting to end my life forever. Twenty years I have been struggling with this bullshit. Wasn’t easy coming up for air and it wasn’t easy asking for help but some how I beat the odds. There was a time that I thought there was a day that I knew I was going to end my life by my own hand. I no longer think I can do that, but that doesn’t stop me from feeling like wanting to. Human behavior is a funny thing. If it’s one thing that I learned is that no matter how much you study something, something unexpected happens.

February 4, 2004
I am again thinking that this is a struggle that I don’t think I can do again. Right now I feel so hopeless and worthless. I am thinking of going to the ER and talk with someone but what would be the point of that.

ramble 56

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

Tonight will be the first week without baseball. I already miss it. I know it will be back in 90 days or so. But how can you go from watching 170 or so games to none? The experience is depressing.

I tried my hand at editing again today. It made me depressed reading my life and what I wrote. So I deleted a lot. I know it was probably wrong but oh well. And then I came to a part that made no sense what so ever. It was like some blogs got smooched together or something and that is probably what happened. So more editing is in my future. But I am glad I got some of it done today. I am thinking of adding the blog I wrote the other day, hodgepodge of blogs, to the book. It has helped so many people in my blog and the AAS so I feel that it is necessary to get the word out. Think I will put it in where I emptied all the other junk.

I keep having dreams that my book is going to be super successful and then I have moments, like now, that feel that it is going to be a flop. I might be ok for the first few months but I don’t think it will after that. Oh author’s doubt is high today.

My suicidality is a little lower today. I am still angry at my therapist and appreciate the feedback I got back on it. Maybe on of these days I will stay on the national hotline long enough to see if they will help me. Samaritans doesn’t seem to keep you on the phone that long. Course the last time I called was years ago, though I have called the National Hotline (800-255-TALK) a couple of times. The hard part is waiting on the line when you want someone to pick up. I guess they are routing your call to the nearest call center or something but it still sucks. I found that texting is better. There is a text number 20121 and you just text 121help. I find that better than talking to someone sometimes. Most of the times I just talk to my blogger friend or another friend or blog. Blogging has been the most helpful to me because I get to express what ever I want to say without being judged by anyone. I might not get any likes or comments or both but least my thoughts are out there. Sometimes it helps someone because they are going through the same thing. There are days I don’t get a response to something but then I do and it validates what I feel. And I think that is the important thing.

My pain levels are scattered today. I woke up with my left calf muscle feeling tight. No matter how many times I tried to stretch it today it just won’t get lose. I should try a hot pack on it or something. I plan on kneading it later. Sometimes it is tight because I have little knots in it.