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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Bad few weeks (May 26, 2011)

The last few weeks I have been in a deep funk, made worse by the events of this week. Two weeks ago, I had a bowel accident. I had stayed in soiled underwear the whole day as I had no idea I was farting stool bubbles. I was mortified to say the least. I had to go back to work because of samples. It was the first week back from vacation and there were a lot of subjects. I went home, showered and changed and had therapy with my bozo. Towrds the end of session, I had a severe spasm in my left foot. This caused the intractable foot pain to start and I have been in pain ever since. This week (5/23) I had a bout of diarrheal illness. I really crapped my pants, twice. Once while passing gas and the other just by shifting in my seat. My mood has gone from worse to totally darkness. I have never felt so humiliated and demoralized. All I can think about is ending my life right now. The next day I see podiatry to find out what is wrong with my foot and he says NOTHING! All the structures look fine on the x-ray and even if I have an MRI, things will most likely be normal. It most likely ALL due to nerve pain. Just shoot me now. I have never felt do lousy as I do right now nor so damn hopeless. I have to be treated by yet another doctor who probably will have no clue how to help me nor have the adacedy to tell me the truth. I am so tired of living in pain every single moment of every since day. Bozo thinks I should be in the hospital but I don't think that will help. I'm just so damn frustrated. I have been doing the bare minimum at work, except I called out monday because of the puking and diarrhea. 

Since Tuesday when I saw the foot doc and he had no answers for me, I have just felt like the world ended. CES has continued to wreck my life. I cannot escape the nerve damage. I cannot escape the pain and that combine with the mental pain I deal with on a daily basis just makes me more suicidal every day. I just want to end the misery everyday. I told my therapist I would end my life this week but I have no energy for it. Imagine being so low that you can't even end your life because it just drains you.

Now to add to my aggravation, my neurologist won't be available next week as she won't be in the office. I reschedule for an afternoon appt and they need to hange the time, which I cannot do because my father is having surgery that day. The secretary then tells me the next fricken available is DECEMBER! WTF! I am so pissed off right now it's not funny. I'm emailing her and telling her I want a referral to another neuro as this is ridiculous.

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Why do I continue to live?

I guess I am not as great a blogger as I wanted to be.  The past few weeks have been really busy with work and by the end of the night, all the energy I have left is for my gaming on Facebook.  Once again I have come at an impasse with my therapist.  I had last week off so I had some time to think about our relationship.  I came up with the same things that I have been thinking for a long time now: I don’t want to continue in treatment, I have no reason for living nor do I wish to live anymore. I just don’t have the energy to actually kill myself. I have not been depressed over the past few weeks. I just have been seriously of ending my life, usually by hanging, just for “fun”. Almost like a “double-dare” to myself.

Now that I am back to work and my research job realized just how much I do work my butt off, I really just want to end my life.  I’m needed yet I really don’t care.  I have become callous or maybe jaded, maybe both, to how others perceive me.  I just feel so dead inside. Not cauldron is stirring but yet I feel that if I don’t try and end my life, I might just go crazy. I have no intention of living any more yet I seem to do just that. I get dressed, go to work, fulfill my obligations and responsibilities yet nothing gives me pleasure or joy. I just do it because it keeps my mind off which tree branch will hold my weight.

My therapist has finally realized through a “consult of my own” the reasons for my misery and yet we are seeking the counsel of an outsider who deals with suicidality. I have often wondered if he would be of help. But how is he supposed to make me want to continue to live when I do not wish to breathe anymore.

Another sleepless night 2

For the past month, I have been in some serious pain. My foot has been really bothering me and nothing seemed to help except for taking pain meds when it got to the point of not being able to bear weight on it. I needed a refill of meds so made an appt with my PCP to fill him in. I am glad I did because I have a stress fracture in my foot. Nothing traumatic happened but I am willing to be bet a severe spasm caused it to break a bone in my foot. I was supposed to see the foot doc last week, but the day before, I some how ending up taking out my back.  I couldn’t move for most of the week and my hip was hurting pretty good so I thought I really messed up my back or caused a muscle tear in my hip. After nearly collapsing on the stairs while going up to my room the other night, I finally decided to go to the ER.  At first they thought it was a hernia but tests were negative so they think I might have strained a ligament. I still have the burning hip pain in my back and am kind of stiff, but the pain has been manageable since leaving the ER.

I haven’t seen my therapist in over a week. We have been having phone sessions because I can’t walk or sit too long without pain. I managed to work this weekend but by the end of the night, I was still hurting. I must be twisting something while I am walking because even while I was taking a step that I thought was normal caused a twinge in my back and buttocks.  Right now it feels like I have a hot poker in the back of my hip/back area.  I was going to cancel the appt with the Neurosurg but now I am thinking it might be a good idea. I am calling my PCP tomorrow as I know I did something and I think I might need PT to work things out again.

Mood wise, I have been up and down. One minute I am fine, the next I want to hang myself from the nearest beam.  I had bozo read the chapt by Goldblatt in Jobes’ book.  All she got was it was me trying to tell her to get support. DUH. That was part of it. I forgot most of what I read because I really didn’t keep a notebook on it. I finally got the book that Goldblatt has written a chapter on and it is impressive. Part of the reason I have been thinking about him, is that I have been contemplating having a psychoanalytic therapy with him to see if that helps with my suicidality but I feel so hopeless that I don’t even want to try it.  I have no reason to live, I don’t want to live. I just continue to live because it is expected of me and people want me to be around. Yet I am in pain every single day and being in a different body every day takes its toll on me.  I live a lie every day, put a smile on when all I want to do is chop my head off or strangle myself in some fashion.  I would OD but that has not worked in the past and I am too afraid of it failing again that I can fathom going through with that plan again.

My research boss has given me a huge project to do right before I am to go on vacation. I am more than pissed off. But I am going to do as much as I can then say arriverdici.  I am going to DC. I just hope that I can walk and not be in so much pain every day. I know that I will be doing a lot of walking as I will be touring but fuck I can barely walk more than a few blocks right now as it is.