So done

Was supposed to have a phone session with my therapist this morning. Last night, after I came came from work and got all comfy in my bed, I leaked some urine, after going. This week has been tough as suicidal thoughts have been rampant and a neighbor's suicide gave me the idea that all I need to do it put a plastic bag over my head rather than hang myself.  I sent off an angry text to my so-called therapist basically saying don't call me, I'm done. When she called me anyway after only 5 hrs of sleep, I was pissed. Then I tell her my neuro won't refill my script for fioricet and she goes on and on about that being the reason why I'm suicidal. I then ask her to ASK ME why I am suicidal and she bring up my gf who I have been trying to get rid of as I am sick of her whining and things being all about her. I told my therapist to stop...she continues and I hang up. To my surprise, she doesn't call me back. I text her 10 mins later to see if she even knew I hung up. No response. So I call her another 10 mins later and get her voicemail.
I somewhat go back to sleep but need to get up because a friend is having surgery and wanted to take her daughter and son-in-law for coffee. By the time I get my java, it's time for my shift to begin and I can't see my pdoc. I email her to see if it's nuts and sure enough it is. She finally gives me an office appt for next week. I swear if she doesn't keep it, I really need to find not only another therapist, but also a psychopharm. I'm done with her cancelling on me and I'm definitely done with a therapist who is deaf!
Why is it so damn hard to ask basic assessment questions. It's not that complicated and I'm so damn tired of directing my therapy when obviously she just doesn't have a damn clue any more. I know it's been tough as we don't have regular sessions. I can't see her in person as she is too far. And my 4 attempts at seeing someone closer or in the same area code have yielded squat.
I can't take being incontinent. It drives the suicidal impulse through the roof. The shame kills me every single time. And why do I have to live with chronic pain, mental and physical and losing function of my bladder? No don't fucking think so! But the exhaustion of depression has paralyzed me into action. I frankly do not have the energy to put a plan in motion. Yes I can get aggravated, agitated, perturbed but without energy to fuel the impulse, I'm just an empty tank trying to go 100 mph on the freeway...