It’s Friday, not Saturday
After my third nap today, I could have sworn it was Saturday. I had to look at my phone to see what day it is. It was Friday. And it was well after 1700 so I didn’t want to page my psychiatrist. She is going on vacation next two weeks. I am to email her with any problems as her pager is being signed out to another clinician.
I realized now that I am awake that I missed taking my afternoon dose of trilafon. I took it now as I am a little on edge with the voices being rowdy. I did take a shower tonight and brushed my teeth. I have been bad about doing both on a regular basis. I usually do try to remember to brush after my morning pee but sometimes it just doesn’t happen.
Because I have been sleeping so much the past few days, I am a little disoriented as to what the hell day it is. Pain flare ups always do this to me. It didn’t help that I was in the middle of a dream when my fucking crazy cousin called me for the third time today. I just don’t feel like talking to him so I let the phone go to voicemail. He really disrupted my sleeping today because he kept calling. Totally pissed me off.
I finally read a couple of chapters of Cuckoo’s Calling. I really want to get through this book by the weekend so I can start another book. I haven’t gone back to Dostoevsky in a while. I should read some more of that book. I really wanted to finish it by summer’s end and it’s almost August. Monday I will be going to Harvard Square to get another book. It’s Harry Potter and the Cursed Child. It’s basically the script of the play they had in London. I am a HUGE Harry Potter fan so I have to have this book for my collection.
Tomorrow, if I am not in pain and if I wake up early, I plan on going to the Square to read a chapter I promised someone that I would read. It’s 62 pages and I need to have it read and critiqued it by Aug 22nd. I thought I had till October but I read the email wrong. It’s a chapter on the Alderian theory. I have no clue about it, which is why I picked it. I hope to learn from it.
My pain levels have been up and down the past couple of hours. It’s tolerable but I still don’t like it. It’s still making me very uneasy. And I still want to take my life because of it. I just honestly, don’t give a shit anymore. I still wonder if I would be able to take my pills and end my life. It will be a long period to wait till the pills work. And the place that I have picked out wouldn’t be a comfortable place to lay back and wait. I just hope there isn’t people around me when this is happening as it will be a public place. I just don’t want to fail again. That would be worse than dying. Other than my blog, there really isn’t anyone I can talk to about this kind of agony. If I talk to my psychiatrist, I might get hospitalized. If I talk to my therapist, it will just be analyzed and stored but not discussed openly. I can’t talk to a family member because they just want to “cure” me of my ailment, that I should see another doctor that might help me. Or go back to the one I see for more treatment, like they have to have some magical cure.
Don’t get me wrong, the meds that I take for my pain are adequate. They work as long as I take them. But it’s the taking them night after night after night that is what’s bothering me. The pain is relentless. It doesn’t matter what I do or don’t do anymore, I just hurt. And I am tired of hurting for no reason.