Moods have changed
I had a crappy sleep. I woke up like every two hours. I had to change position because I was in pain. It totally sucked. Around 0830, I thought I would shower but my mother was in the bathroom. So I decided to wait. Then I had to go and it wasn’t pleasant. I was still in pain every time I had a number 2. Seems like today is shit day because that is all I have been doing since 0900. I wanted to go out but that is not possible. I went to Walgreens okay but that is a short walk. I have two extremes, loose soft/diarrhea stools or hard as rocks stools. Even with the senna, I don’t have a medium. Only time I have one is when I have regular movements which seem far and in between. I am so damn miserable.
I had therapy today and we talked about all that has happened since we last talked. We talked about the insults my father gave me, the drinking, and, inevitably, my suicidality. I have picked a date and I am moving towards a plan. Fuck this pain shit. Fuck my father. I can’t stand either, one more than the other, you choose which. I don’t care anymore. She wanted me to come out to see her but I don’t have the funds to. I don’t get paid till my birthday. I will be dead by then, I hope.
We talked about my writing. She asked what will become of it once I am gone. I told her it will just stay on my laptop. No one will do anything with it. Right now, my “book” is barely fifty pages. No one knows the files. I am not that organized. And besides, some of the stuff is on my blog anyways so anyone could make a book out of it. I just don’t care anymore.
My therapist asked me what would be the one thing that wouldn’t make me so suicidal. I didn’t have an answer for her. She then asked what my reasons for living were. I told her none. I hate when she goes through these things. It always makes me feel a little guilty. And that is all that she was trying to do, was lay a guilt trip on me so I would continue to be. Why would I want to live when every time I have a damn bowel movement, I have pain as well, sometimes for hours? She brought up getting an MRI but I am too scared to know the results. I know there have been changes in my back. I can feel it. Whether or not it requires surgery, that is a different matter. And I am copping out before I know the truth. I see my PCP next week and we have a lot to discuss. I doubt MRI is going to be on the agenda. It’s going to be our last meeting as he is leaving. My thigh pain seemed to have settled down, which has settled down my PTSD symptoms. But I am tired of being in pain or wondering when I am going to get hit with CES x 3. I can’t go on like this. I feel like I am on a shaky rope and someone has finally cut the other end of it. I am dangling at the edge and no one sees it or can help me get up. So I am giving up. I will fall to my death.