Wolf call answered

I have not had a good last few days. My mood has been bleak due to physical pain that is so breathing taking all I can think about is either cutting myself or killing myself. The demons are back with a vengence because I cannot cope with physical pain on top mental pain. I wish I could but I no longer have the strength. I grow tired very easily, I am exhausted beyond words can describe and my brain keeps coming up with elaborate ways of ending my life. The lasted plan is by hanging myself on the support beams of a local bridge. I just want the pain to end. Lately I have been thinking about drinking because I have been so angry. I'm not sure who I am angry at, I just am. But I know that if I drink the way I am feeling the likelyhood of me going through with my thoughts will increase 10 fold. I try to avoid alcohol but sometimes I figure what the fuck, who cares. But I have been sober for a good few months. I'm not an alcoholic, I just like to drink but I know the consequences of drinking while depression greatly increase the likelyhood of a suicide attempt and I know that if I put my plan in motion there will be no going back. Hanging is pretty lethal...
My therapist wants me in the hospital because I have been having some dissociative episodes lately. I don't want to go but seeing as I'm not working, it will give me some structure instead of just sitting on my hands.
I hate myself, actually I think despise is more like it. I hate everything about me so why can't I just end my pain by killing myself? I just can't stand living anymore. It just hurts too much...

crying wolf

I feel like my suicidality at this point is a crying wolf phrase. No one seems to believe me when I tell them how much I am hurting but I do not utter the words Suicidal to them for fear of the cops showing up at my door. Instead I bitch on facebook on how much I am hurting and my melancholy is great and no one, not one of my 700 friends responds to it. So I found out tonight that my love wants to grow old with someone else and I am hurting really bad. I wrote my therapist a detailed letter saying that I want to overdose and gave her details of the plans. I kind of feel now that these words I wrote are like the diary of Dostoevsky. He writes in tangents and so do I…

I have written a detailed plan of my demise and yet cannot fathom my therapist doing anything about it when she does read it. I have sent her texts stating that I am at a very vulnerable state but it is after hours and she is off tomorrow so I might not get a response till Monday. Will it be too late by then? Should I call someone to talk to and say what….Wolf is at my door trying to kill me again? I have said this many times yet no one takes me seriously. Why should they now? I am so full of pain that I am not sure what to do. There are numbers I can call but who wants to speak with a stranger. There are friends I can call but who wants to bother them and cause them worry. So I sit in my room with my music reminding me of my pain and listen and try and think of something useful to write because otherwise I might act on my thoughts…

I'm crying wolf and wondering who is listening this time...

Delusions

What defines a delusion? Is it a belief that no one else believes is true or just a paranoid thought that begins to write it's own story in your head and where the voices take hold and tell you to believe them over the "real" people because they believe you when no one else does.
Past few weeks I have been psychotic, delusional, and paranoid. I like to think that I am just a functional schizophrenic as I am able to work and take care of myself though work pains me. It makes the paranoia worse as I know my coworkers are always watching me even if I am trying to look away from them. I work my butt off. I never slack except when I am in a chatty mood. I might log in and accession slower but I am doing my work. They cannot fault me for that. I answer questions and deal with problems no one else wants to deal with.
Last week I was in the psych hosp at mclean. Then I went to Baltimore for a suicidology conference. To say that it was loaded was an understatement. By Saturday I was mentally exhausted and hopeless about my treatment. I go there because I rather learn about the demons and try to basically fix myself. I have saved a few people's lives by my experience and what I have learned. I try to pass on my knowledge but most of the time it falls on deaf ears. I sometimes wish I could get the directors of the psychiatry depts at local hosp ERs and see if the SSF will be utilized more.

My own therapy well my previous post says all about that. So I am left with feelings of being crazy. And I am ok with it because being sane would be scary!

when jupiter aligns with the crescent moon

this has been a phrase the voices have been saying for the past 3 weeks. I feel like i am going mental and probably should be hospitalized but I am too afriad to. I am afriad that the idiot staff won't allow me to have my pain meds and worse, won't let me take my meds the way that I take them at home, which is usually the case.  These idiosyncracies are what keeps me up. Every one thinks that I am normal. I put up a great facade that no one sees through. Most people I know would never guess I hear voices all the times, 24/7, a constant stream of sometimes nothingness and at other times confusion as when they start talking all together or at each other, it is hard to follow thier conversations and where it is going. I'm have been under surveillence the past three weeks, constantly watching over my back and my surrounding all the while listening to a cacophony of critical voices that tell me who is watching and who to look out for, who is staring at me or at other times, questioning the way I do things, what I am wearing, why I am going a certain route and why I am not going another. Yea, people would love to know this about me but its better left unsaid as it is too confusing to make sense. sometimes I feel that even when I talk, the outside world just doesn't understand, that what I am saying is too complex. The voices understand, they know my language, thoughts, movements but the past three and a half weeks now, things are different. they have become more commanding in nature and normally I would be scared but I am not. Usually I would be in the hospital by now but I am not. Almost to defy the world. Funny how my psychiatrist noted that she wanted me in the hospital yet has not done so...but she doesn't know my plan or the plan that the voices have crafted. Jupter has aligned with the crescent moon and I shall act soon...

End of a decade

Due to multiple reasons, I finally ended with my therapist of eleven years.  The past year has been nothing but arguments and miscommunication. Basically she has not been getting me at all and after all this time you would think that a psychologist would know my behaviors and thinking process. Hell, my psychiatrist picks up on things more than she does, even via email!

I recently has been asked to write a message to therapists. But how can I when my own therapy has failed. What really got me this time is that I asked her to attend a workshop to basically educate her on the task of assessment of suicide. It would be one thing to respectfully decline, but totally another to say that I am changing her “mode of practice” just by taking one workshop. She calls me a suicidologists and I understand that it not her interest. I am not asking her to become one, but I thought by attending this workshop she might gain some insight and with this insight, better help me when I get into a suicidal crisis. Man did this blow up in my face big time.  I’m still wondering how informing my therapist about what is out there changes her training and how she does her therapy. What I can see is, she hasn’t done much analyzing. She has been more of a supportive friend than a therapist. Maybe we have grown too close and that is the problem. I don’t know. All I do know is that I have lost faith in therapy, a treatment that is supposedly supposed to help you and yet all it seems to do is hurt more than it helps. I was supposed to go inpatient, but I cannot face another mental health professional. I only saw my psychiatrist yesterday because for the 1^st time in 19 yrs she called me more than 3 times and had been emailing back and forth more than once. I guess me telling her I don’t want help freaked her out a bit. I told her I stopped my meds. Fuck everything at this point, I am beyond caring. Even as I am writing this I am just crying my eyes out. Why, I don’t know. Maybe it is because I am just so damn pissed at being let down again.  I usually shed these kind of tears for that reason more than sadness.

In therapy, there is always a give and a take. You bare your soul to a stranger and take away something from it. I’d like to think that over the years with this Bozo, we both have done that. Just lately, it seems like maybe she felt I was trying to change her too much and if she can’t change, even a little, how the hell am I, the client, to??

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...

The power of Music

Yesterday I found out about the death of Whitney Houston. She was a woman who had a powerful voice and I loved her, until drugs ruined and probably ended up taking her life. She died in a hotel room and I can only guess that it was either an overdose or suicide, though aren’t both the same thing?

The Grammys tonight was talking about how powerful music can be.  Made me think about my essay that I wrote for a possible journal submission.  I think it’s going to end up on a website, though I am not really sure where just yet or if I want to publish electronically first. I know the net isn’t too secure and it most likely will get plagiarized at some point. But as long as the word gets out and get people thinking about how to save a life than what do I can what media helps to do that?

Today I was asked to write a message to a therapist. What would I say?  Over the last 10 years I have advised people on what to do with therapy. Some have taken the advise and really got the help they needed. Others found that it was a revolving door and after several attempts, decided it was not for them. A couple found that it opened more cans of worms than they wanted so closed the door on it and never went back.  Granted therapy of any sort is a long process.  You need the right fit, the therapist needs to be right for you and you need to be right for them. Just like any relationship, it’s a process of trial and error. Personality has a lot to do with it and also both parties need to be able to share and open up to some things to let things be on equal ground.  That has always been my preference and if I don’t have it, then so long, good bye.  I have had twelve therapists over the course of twenty years or so. All from different degrees, backgrounds, male, female, from private practice to clinics. Number thirteen has not been found yet, unless you count him as a consultant that I see from time to time. If you do, then number fourteen has yet to be found.  I have particular needs, we all do. I also need someone who is willing to be open and not so hard-ass on certain topics all the time.

Well I guess that is the start of my paper…now to see where the words take me.

It’s 4 am and I’m hardly breathing

Just got finished with a couple of episodes of watching season 2 of criminal minds. I have fallen in love with this show though it is kind of creepy. I’m not sure which is freakier…that this fiction is whacked and someone thinks of this stuff or that it might actually be true and there are more serial killers/rapists/or more than I would like to think about.

The last few hours, my gastritis has been acting up. I wish I could say that it is keeping me awake but as tired as I feel, I am just not sleepy.  I have been in a psychotic state the past few days, having weird thoughts, paranoia and delusions.  I try not to give in to the voices but sometimes it is very difficult. It’s 4:30 and all I can think about is death. It is a constant struggle. With my nerve condition, CES (Cauda Equina Syndrome), I have had a bladder accident today that always sends me off the deep end. I know that sometimes sitting causes me to push on the bladder causing urine to come out. Because I have been on narcs and anti-psychotics, I have had some retention and don’t really know when I am full. I find it humiliating to find wet pants and not know it all the damn time. This week is also my 11^th anniversary of getting this blasphemous condition and with every bladder or bowel accident, all I can think of is that another disc is going.  The tension in my neck and shoulders from worry is causing my arms to feel weak at times. I can no longer hold the phone for more than 10 mins with out my arm going numb. And I feel that if I have cervical herniations, I will just kill myself. My only saving grace has been my nieces and nephew. I know they will not be okay even as much I try to think they will be, that they will be resilient enough to deal with my loss.

I have been trying to get a hold of my pdoc but no response. I guess she is too busy for me and it hurts. I have known her for 19 yrs now, since I was 17 and now I feel like I need to see another doc but then she knows me better than anyone. I know that the stressors of last week with the screw up of my benefits set the stage for this psychotic break. I just hope that I can get it controlled before I have to seriously consider going inpatient again.  My fear there is that they will mess up my meds and then get it straight the day I get discharged. And besides, the docs there will most likely want to try a new expensive drug I have never been on to deal with my psychosis. No one understands the pressure of this and knows what kind of hell my head goes through. Yes, my physical pain sucks, but this madness is worse than that. Least I know that a vicoden or dilaudid can calm it down.  Any type of stress and boom, I am crazy. Typical “normal” people become anxious or nervous, maybe even have anxiety attacks. Me I just become psychotic. The voices get louder, I talk to myself more to give in to their endless questions, criticisms, and observance of who is going to kill me or saying negative things about me. Weird thing is that every time I get psychotic, it’s different. This time in addition of them reading my thoughts, the conversations continue and no one knows what I am talking about. The conversation in my head gets externalized and the people around me whom I am carrying on the conversation have no clue what I am talking about. Sometimes it is of an intellectual nature, such as the Maya or some history that I have read and think that they know about but truly they have not read it but I know they have because the voices have. I know it is weird to think this but I know my thoughts are amplified and people can hear it and maybe the voices too. I don’t know maybe it is just part of the madness.

It’s now 5 am so I am going to try and get some sleep for at least 6 hours as I need to get up for good old therapy…

New Year, New Changes

In Oct of 2011, we got word that my workplace was discontinuing my insurance and I would be forced to change to another plan. While it is cheaper by a hundred dollars, my biggest worry was how to get my therapist a provider so that I didn’t have to pay so much per visit. Not that I am paying much now but still, $50 per session versus $15 is a HUGE difference. Then my car broke down and although I was able to see her if I was able to swing it with my work, the last two months of the year, I think I only saw her maybe twice. The majority of the time we talk on the phone and it has been a problem. I finally said enough when signals got crossed and she royally pissed me off. We no longer are on the same page on anything. She has her views, I have mine and I think it is time to move to on to see someone closer. Oh, forgot to mention she consolidated her offices Labor day so she now lives 30 miles away from me.

Friday, I finally made a few phone calls. One was to a referral by a friend. The other was from a name I picked up on the internet through my insurance of providers and a little Google help.  We’ll call her MN. She called me back today and we spoke a little bit but I think I am going to have to cross her off my list as she is not comfortable with high risk patients aka suicidal patients. I was thinking this over as Mary Chapin was playing on my MP3 player. I felt like leaving her a message saying I have thought about what you have said and am no longer interested but you might want to read the works of David Jobes, a suicidologist who has the guts to actually try and help those that need it the most.  Now I know why Man’s Greatest doesn’t have a table for suicide prevention week…they just like to pass these patients on like cattle with mad cow disease.

In another update, I have rekindled with my first love. It has been weird as we still have the same chemistry and think of each other often, almost calling each other soon as we think of one another like old times. Though we have been apart for seven years, it seems like no time has passed at all. Luckily, long distance is a LOT cheaper than it was so it isn’t costing us a fortune to talk to one another like it once did.  I have only seen her twice and that is mostly because of work.

Ending with my currently therapist is and has been difficult. She still thinks that we are still going to be in this but I really don’t see how. She is stubborn and I am just as stubborn but I am the consumer so I have to have the upper hand even if she thinks I don’t have it. I am grateful for all she has done but I think it’s time to end things now. If I don’t find a therapist, then fine. I’ll just go on my own way. Not like I have not done it before. I think if I blog every night or try to, it might help release the midnight demons that put the death hold on me at times.

On a positive note, my essay on “Analysis of a song” might get published, if I can get permission for the copyrights of the lyrics. I am very excited about that.

Blog

​I cannot sleep. Pain is keeping me up and sending me to a bad place like it always does at this late hour. I have taken vicodin but it still hasn't touch the pain. It is very quiet in my room (other than the constant bickering in my head). I need the sound machine on to drown out my thoughts. I really want to do something harmful but not sure what. I'm going mental. I don't know what is real anymore. I feel like I am in a dream yet I know I am not sleeping. Very weird but I don't care. I took 4 mg perphenazine tonight and still the voices are harping. I seriously don't know how much longer I can stave them off.

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midnight demons strike again

It's almost 3 am and I can’t sleep. I am very tired but my thoughts are in a dark place. I decided to work on my little research survey and found that it was harder to put on paper than it was to think it up in my head.

My pain levels are still through the roof, though the meds seem to be helping tonight. Yesterday I didn’t think I was ever going to fall asleep. Thursday I had a phone session with bozo and told her I wanted to die this weekend. Course I have been saying that for months now. Today I really did want to do die because I am so frustrated that I cannot find relief in dealing with my pain and my leg being swollen is not helping my mood any. I just want to cut my foot off at the ankle. I’m so tired of being in pain every day and no one knows what to do about it. My pcp has decided to put me in a boot for 2 wks. It that doesn’t work, I am not sure what to do. I might have to be on bed rest completely and that thought is not helping me as I will go fucking nuts just sitting around the house doing nothing when there is so much work to do for my research job.  I feel like I am on this merry-go-round that just bring me going from doc to doc and not getting any real answers.  I just don’t want to live anymore. I have no desire to live to see tomorrow. I only do because my body has decided to continue to do the body functions that allow me to live. I have thought of so many ways to end my life and I soooo want to go through at least one of them and I will, but it always is one day. I really don’t know if I am capable of ending my life anymore, I just seem to think that thinking about it is somewhat better than acting on it all the time. I know that might sound crazy but it’s true. I have thought about so many ways of ending my life the past few months and even prepared to do so yet I never seem to really act on going through with it. How pathetic is that?? I feel more like a loser because I say I am suicidal yet I have not acted on my thoughts or feelings for years now. Most I have done is take massive doses of neurontin but I know that doing so will not kill me. I am pathetic.

My last day (Jul 1, 2011)

Woke up with my leg killing me, not sure if I could walk. Got out of bed and it wasn't too bad. Today is the day that I am ending my suffering. Either late tonight I will hang or od. I haven't quite decided what method I am chosing.

It's all because the medical docs refuse to treat my pain and the stupid pain management doc needs to have me screened by a psychologist before he will do anything. I need to wait 6 wks for all this. Too late. I won't be around.

I have been in chronic pain the last few months and I just can't take it any longer. I cannot live like this. I have done things as normally aspossible so no one has a clue what I will be doing though I have confided in a couple of people. No one is to blame except for the drug addicts who make doctors work harder to screen out those in chronic pain vs those that are abusing it. And also the lawmakers who make it difficult for doctors to treat those in pain by making rules of how much they prescribe a month. I curse these people that have no idea what it is like to be in pain 24/7 and have no relief. I have seen all types of doctors. My therapist and psychiatrist can no longer help me. All they can do is provide supportive care. I know they will be the deepest hurt by my actions. But I hope they know that me not suffering anymore somehow helps them.

Everyone says I should go to the ER to see if they can give me something but I just ran out of hope. Or maybe it's just that I feel so helpless. Right now my foot/ankle is a ten. I just plan on going to work to finish my last project for research. Then it's all over.

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