Blog Post 1496

I didn’t have a good sleep. I was tossing and turning most of the night. I didn’t bother looking at the time as my room was still dark. I finally got up when I got successive text messages around 0830. It was a combination of Twitter and the T messages. Twitter was telling me people were liking and retweeting my tweets and the T was telling me of bus delays. I should have put my phone in “Do not disturb” mode. I didn’t have my phone on the charger so I had to put it on. While my phone was charging I decided to have some breakfast and make coffee. The coffee I made a little stronger than I usually do. I thought I would be ok with rounded scoops but I guess not. I know that for next time.

As I was waiting for the water to boil, I decided to put away some dishes in the strainer by the sink. Now I wish I hadn’t as my thigh is hurting me. I wasn’t planning on doing anything today except to write and read. I guess since I am in pain, I can take my pain meds but I hate taking them when I just wake up only to go back to sleep. Maybe if I “wish” the pain away it will. I am just going to be relaxing on my bed anyway, least till lunch. I really want to try and finish the American Gods, but that book is starting to creep me out. The author kills the characters in cruel ways. One character gets sucked into this story after his wife died because she was having an affair with another man. Then comes back from the dead to save him from some men who were good but very bad. She ends up killing these men. It’s all very strange. I have no idea where the story is going or what is going to come next because the main character just got killed. There are still over a 100 pages to read so the story must go on to something. But it’s very creepy and I am not one for creepy. I’m just glad I don’t fall asleep right away after reading this stuff or I think I would have nightmares.

After midnight last night, I emailed my psychiatrist to tell her I survived another day when I really wanted to end my life so badly. I felt like she had to know my struggle that I deal with these days as she is not around. I am still angry about my therapist making me promise to be around this week for her benefit. There was nothing more that I wanted to do yesterday than to take at least four bottles of pills and see what would happen to me. I know the likelihood of me getting sick would be greater than me actually dying. Now that I am still alive, I am feeling ten times more nervous about my appointment with the neurosurgeon tomorrow. Last week it felt like it was ages away and not it’s a little more than 24 hours away. I know nothing is going to happen, least not at this appointment as I need an MRI to determine the course of action. I am not looking forward to the MRI because I have to lie flat for at least 45 minutes and then be injected with contrast. I have bad veins so I need to be hydrated as possible for them to find the suckers. Otherwise, the MRI is useless. They won’t be able to tell new damage from old. The whole thing is just nerve racking, no pun intended.

Next week, I will have a break from my therapist. I am kind of mixed about this. In a way, I like having a breather from her and in another, I know I am going to miss her. It’s going to make the week longer because I won’t have our time to break up the monotony of the week. It might mean I go to Starbucks earlier. I hope to get some writing done. Last night I was working on my “roots” story. I got it up to about 1,300 words and then had to stop as it was close to 0100. I was tired and couldn’t think where else I wanted the story to go. I keep playing with it and try not to repeat myself as I go along. I had a friend of mine read it and she said that it was a good story. I took out the pieces that I pasted in there, thinking it would mesh but it didn’t. Now I got to write another two hundred or so words to make up for those two paragraphs that were worthless.

 

About G. Collerone

suicide attempt survivor writing about the hopelessness that accompanies depression that no one likes to talk about
This entry was posted in Bipolar Disorder, blogging, chronic physical pain, depression, mood disorders, writing and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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