In Pain, again

In Pain, again

I was talking to my therapist today about things that happened this morning. I sent my previous blog to my psychiatrist and got a response. I really wasn’t expecting one as she is recovering from surgery but I guess she found her way to a computer and emailed me back. I nearly broke down in tears when I read the message. I don’t know if it was because she said she knew this month was hard for me or that I was relieved that she was doing well in her recovery, but the tears were flowing. I tried stopping them because I had to go out soon and didn’t want to be a mess. I hardly ever cry and when I do, the tears don’t stop.

I took my asshole father to his appointment and the bastard kicked me in my sore leg. I am not kidding and when I complained to him, he laughed. I just hoped that we were out of there soon so I could be in a private place to talk to my therapist. The hell with him and his test results. He could die for all I care. I am so sick of his not caring, yet I am supposed to? FUCK THAT SHIT. It’s either both ways or no way.

While I was talking with my therapist, my thigh acted up. I had taken an extra baclofen to try and see if that will help the pain and discomfort I have been feeling. I guess it’s too early to tell as it was just one dose. I didn’t even do too much walking, least not as much as I did yesterday, and it still flared up on me. I know something is going on with my L3 nerve root. I am going to tell my neurosurgeon this and my PCP, though he already knows this, or should by now. Nothing is helping this pain so I know from past experience something is up with my back.

My therapist wasn’t able to read the entire blog piece that I wrote about Reasons for Living and Reasons for Dying. I don’t even remember how long it was as I was just rambling. From what she said, it was a good piece of writing. I said of course it is, I wrote it in the wee hours of the morning. She then started some mumble jumble about how I am uninhibited during those hours to write so well. I just know my best writing comes when I am tired and it’s after 2300. I really can’t sleep unless I write sometimes. Last night was one of those times. I was beyond exhausted and it was after 2300.

I so wanted to drink some whiskey when I came home but I already took my pain meds and I don’t think that would be a good idea. I really need to try and get a hold of this pain. Worse case scenario is that I break out my strong pain pills. I know I need some sleep too as I only got around three hours last night. I was too worried about oversleeping because I didn’t go to bed till after 0230. It sucks being in pain. I need chocolate. That will help my mood…

Published by

G. Collerone

suicide attempt survivor writing about the hopelessness that accompanies depression that no one likes to talk about. also writing about my daily struggle with chronic pain and how it affects my suicidality

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