the need to write

The Need to Write

I watched the ballgame most of the way via Twitter. We won 5-3. I didn’t think I was going to last because I was really tired but I knew if they came back and I missed it I would be upset. I am glad I didn’t miss it.

So I lied down and of course pain coursed through my ankle and foot like they do, 10 times worse tonight. I had to take a strong pain pill and some Neurontin. I was taking all shots tonight. Fuck it. I don’t care. I need pain relief. My foot is on fire. My ankle is searing pain. And I have no fire extinguisher other than the Neurontin. My anxiety is up but I already took some Ativan because my right foot was doing this dance tonight that eventually got painful. It just kept on curling up on me, on it’s own. Annoying.

I was able to sleep for a few hours but then woke up because I had to go pee. Damn bladder. Now I am up and I don’t think I can go back to sleep, least not for the next hour or two. I am surprised that I just slept a few hours given the amount of medication that I took. I am still feeling a little paranoid and psychotic. The voices the last few days have not been pleasant. I can tolerate them but it is exhausting. It takes all that I have to ignore their constant bickering, their sarcastic remarks, their criticism, and their commands. If I am doing something one way, they want me to do it another. It’s tiring. I had to take 12 mg of trilafon yesterday to counteract them. I didn’t take it all at once, just every 4-6 hours I took a 4 mg pill. It was the only way to quiet them down.

Later today, I plan on printing out my book. It’s going to be a huge deal because I have 140 pages to go through. Granted the first few are just fluff, just the title page and then copyright page, stuff like that. I want to see if I can do this without an editor. My stories are short so if I take them one at a time, it should be a piece of cake. And unlike my first book, there is nothing to really trigger me because it’s mostly about my psychotic experiences, which I think are funny and amusing. Course, when they were happening they were scary as all hell. But now they are not that way anymore.

I texted my therapist that I was in pain and lazy because I might not be making the pumpkin cupcakes like I wanted to. I am still cursing the Peapod delivery for not delivering the right kind of pumpkin. Now I have to go to the store and get it. But I don’t want to go out later today. I know I am going to be tired as shit as it’s in the middle of the night and I am awake. Plus, it’s going to be raining most of the day. I should have gone to the store yesterday but I was too tired.

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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