heavy duty shit in therapy yesterday. rejection, dismissal, self hatred etc etc. my psyche is fighting tooth and nail to keep some horrible thing secret. what that is i don’t know. saw the shrink last week. another appointment and a new script. losing faith in pharmaceuticals. there doesn’t seem to be anything out there for me. left the office angry and upset. felt rejected, dismissed, discarded. why exactly i don’t know. the doc didn’t do or say anything particularly egregious. it was like there was something i desperately wanted to communicate but i couldn’t find the words. then my 20 minutes was up. go away. don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way out. i try very hard to keep my emotions under wraps. it is a lot of work and can be very exhausting. something i learned as a way of protecting myself. so of course i didn’t let on i was upset. what would it accomplish?Â not much. just another brick in the wall. been identifying with the Pink Floyd montage a lot lately. i have been building “the wall” at a furious pace. isolating myself from those who would be most affected by my death. the pro-death side of me has been good at convincing me no one really gives a shit. most times i don’t give a shit about me. been putting myself in potentially dangerous situations-driving etc hoping for a fatal outcome. hope is cheap. and because i want to go chances are i won’t.Â irony is a *****. there is a time i have in mind but there is no point to sharing it. it is far enough in the future to allow for some miraculous change of heart. i wouldn’t bet on it however.
i don’t always remember the days very well so when my psych doc asks Â how i’ve been for the last week i don’t always know what to say. Â i’ve realized that i can tell how the last week went by how furry my teeth are. Â anybody else have any things like that?
im new to this so its probly going to be a hue rant. so much has happened and its so hard to talk about. i dont know how this is going to go but …… ill start by saying my name is kyle im 25 and live in DE. i guess the core of my issues comes from the way i was treated as a child, i came from a well to do family with two drug addicted parents. even being fucked up all the time they were loving parents who provided everything material i ever needed but the emotional support was hardly ever there. i was the first born(of 3), the prodigal son with the 154IQ my whole childhood no one worried about me i was the intelligent self reliant little kid that every partent hoped for. while my terror younger brother constantly needed to be watched and reprimanded. my like continued in this way untill 8th grade. i wanted somthing to get me attention, to make me more popular get me noticed. my parents were really into pharmys(pills) i could just go in the closet and take a couple bong rips, grab some pills and they never noticed. what i thought would get me introuble with my partents and get me in trouble they barely noticed at first, but i loved it the highs, the addrenaline so i started to study cuz hell thats what i was good at i learned everything there was to learn about pills and pot first. and i mean everything…. i started out getting my first PDR (doctors drug guide) for christmas of freshman year. they still had no idea at this point my sister was starting school we were starting to have financial probs but no one noticed me still except at high school. there i was popular. quickly gained the nickname “doc” and it felw from there i ran the whole pill raquet in my school including selling to teachers janitors. i loved the attnention and respect. i was invited to every party even if i didnt stay it was a big deal for me to show up. but by junior year i hit a wall i had started seeing a doc to get scripts ofÂ 200 OC 40mg a month. by this time i had shared my addiction with my partents, i wasnt making any money, stopped oing to school as much as i should have and withdrew to my room, i ended up getting kicked out of my private school with a 3.4 lifetime gpa(damn french) not for grades or selling drugs but cuz i was to high to be there. shortly after i told my parents i wanted to end my addiction and that i needed help,(in there defence i only think my parents knew i took them not how addicted i really was to pain killers) i was sent to father martin’s ashley at the time the second most expencive rehab on the east coast.. i mean the place was a former governers mansion. i came out of there off the pain killers but went back to pills right away, i litterally called in a xanax refill on my drive home from hab. well…. that is the start of what i call the xanax years. i dont remember much here except the end for almost 3 years i was taking 32mg of xanax a day i got to 8mg 4x daily just to get by.Â so off to rehab i went again… things went better when i got out this time. i was finally straightening my life out and was going to use all this potential people kept telling me about. still i wasnt happy but this was the closest i have been since i was little and naive. but that period didnt last long dad got really sick they didnt know what was wrong with this wound on his foot it wouldnt heal but it wasnt diabetes.. the docs were stumped for a while by the time i got them all to agree it was periferial arterial disease he had lost his leg and my dad fell into a deep depression we were hardly able to take care of him being that he was 6’4″ 300lbs and couldnt move much. he gave up on his physical therapy, all the money was gone by now eaten by medical bills and years of unemployment. twice we went on to loose our house and live in hotels for months during these times dad would be placed in various facilitlys each one messing with his medication list more and more. till may 27th 2007 my father was in the new rental house we had just moved into…he had a seizure and arrithmia at the same time like he had several times before. mom thought we were just on the way to get him cardioverted and discharged in 24hours like normal. but this time it was v-tac and he went into a coma and his systems started shutting down. he was basically a veg for a week before passing away. for 33 years my parents had been together and now my mom felt alone. my father had no life insurance and the funeral put us so far under we lost the house we had just gotten now we were homeless again. a car accident in 2006 had started up my pain killer dependancy again which didnt help things for mebut the 5000$ settlement put mom up in a hotel for a while. i had to leave the hotel to stay with a friend at the time because my brother and i couldnt be in the same room and he had a valid drivers liscence.(i had lost mine driving dad to the hospital with out insurance or registration and it was BS but thats yet another story.)so my brother stayed with my mom and i moved in with a friend and then eventually started renting a room at a flop house(too dangerous to bring mom too). well while i was at the flop house i managed to find myself a great friend and roommate and find mom a house. so rob(roommate) and i got a place not far from moms new house. she was so excited to be back in a house,she seemed happy on the outside when i visited but torn inside, i figured it was feelings about my fathers death that she hadnt dealt with,i was wrong. about 6 months later rob and i got into it with our landlord and moved in with mom.i had no idea what was really going on the past year and a half though. my brother had gotten him self addicted to pills and was beating my mother and taking hers leaving her in more pain..this is a diff subject to write about right now……. so ill end for now and fill in more later…… i could go on about my pride and joy little sister:) and how i feel horrible for not being there even more than i was or all my past fucked up relationships… jesus i could probly write a book here but this is good for now. when i started this today it was actually because i was online looking for a better way to kill myself using pharms but instead ended up coming here to vent rather than make a plan. and wow i actually feel a lil better after writingÂ just that little bit of my life. however i do feel that i could have easily taken myself back to a bad place talking about my brother. i think my biggest prob since my father died has been this feeling that im responcible for everyone and everything and this damned addiction, i dont know if i will ever be rid of it, i dont know if im ready. mail me at obiKYLEkenobi@gmail.com if you wanna talk about anything. peace. kyle
I have always been a VERY strong person. I am the one people would come to for advice and for strength but lately I find myself completely without strength and it also feels like no one I have ever been there for is there for me now. I have rheumatoid arthritis and I’m 28 years old. I was born with the disease and my whole childhood was destroyed by the illness. I never had a normal life. So I grew up knowing how to deal with pain and suffering. However, I went into complete remission when I was 18 and my life became wonderful. I did everything I never could do before. I had a great career in radio as a reporter and writer, the things I always wanted to do. Then when I was 25, around my birthday the rheumatoid arthritis came back. At first I was in denial but pretty soon I had to accept it. I had to quit my career because working in media requires the ability to be mobile and full of energy. Rheumatoid Arthritis takes away your mobility as well as your energy. Now I am 28 and I feel like my life is just completely over. Every dream, every want, every thing I have said I’d do in life is now impossible. I have to live on my Social Security and I can barely even work part time. I’ve been trying to find part time work to help with the complete lack of anything going on in my life but I have not found one yet. I just sit at home all day, everyday, except to go to the grocery store and while I sit I am in pain. I am in terrible pin when I first wake up. It’s the worst when I wake up. I take narcotic pain killers that are legally prescribed to me but those also present a problem…they wear off and I feel worse than before. But without the pills I cant walk at all. But even with the pills I’m not as mobile as a normal person. And I still have pain. My doc said the pain can only be expected to be 40% less than what it would be without the pain killers. 40% is better than nothing but it’s not complete. I am still in awful pain everyday, every minute – every second that I’m alive. MY existence is shit and there is NOTHING anyone can do. I don’t respond to the medications they have for the illness so I’m left taking naproxsen and oxycodone. I can feel my bones wasting away. The really crappy part is that NO ONE knows what I am going through. People pretend they understand but no one can really get what it is like to be in chronic pain every second of every day. They don’t understand how it can affect a persons well being. I am not myself, I find no joy in anything. Songs I used to love mean nothingÂ to me now. I find no happiness anywhere. The only person that I know cares about me is my husband and he works very hard to give us a good life but I know even he is frustrated that I can’t do more. He would never say it but I know normal people don’t understand what I’m going through and they don’t seem to get why I can’t just “be happy” or just “live with it”. It’s incredibly hard to ignore terrible pain.
Today I woke up and I really wanted to die. I just wanted to lay down and give up. From what I’ve read if you are like me, born with this disease, and it comes back later in life, you will never get rid of it again. So where does that leave me but with a crappy life where I’m constantly in pain and then I die. It seems so empty and so pointless. We own a gun,Â I could just shoot myself….I just keep trying to live “day by day” as my therapist always reminds me to do, but it is so hard at times there are just some mornings I wake up and I just want myÂ life to end. There is no happiness to look forward to anyway, my condition will never change. The US govt’ is so wrapped up in religion that they are not letting science progress as it should so I can’t get a cure for this disease, so in my lifetime I will never be cured. I”ll be a cripple with awful pain my entire life. I know husband is going to want to have kids soon…how can I carry a child, i can barely walk as I am now. I hate myself and I want to die. I mean this type of existence is pointless. I will not get better – I will just get worse…it’s proven science…and I don’t have enough money or insurance for knee replacements so I will be so bad off I will be wheelchair bound soon enough. It’s all down hill from here. Whats the point in living.