I was listening to a few of my favorite songs and then psychache hit. Psychache is the emotional pain that you feel when basically every thing sucks. I was thinking about my father, the Sox, and other stuff and the psychache just became unbearable. I feel like I should take something for it but there is nothing for me to take. Pain meds, even Tylenol, are useless. Doesn’t help that my ankle is throbbing. Nothing like it was last night but I just noticed that it’s swollen and painful. Not a good sign.
I hate when my heart feels like it is being torn apart. It’s the worse feeling in the world. I had a temporary break when some things on Twitter and Facebook made me laugh. One was about a great dane that was trying to escape his house through his skylight. The picture was really funny. The second one was about Pavlov. It was a psych joke that really had me busting out laughing. I don’t remember how the joke went. I am never good at remembering jokes. I usually tell them in the wrong order.
I don’t really know why I am hurting so badly. Sure the sox season is over and I am still grieving for my father. I just feel like that has been old news for a while and why should it be bothering me tonight? I have been thinking of suicide again. While I was typing up my previous blog, I read about the treatment for BDD (body dysmorphic disorder). The article said that CBT is effective in treatment in most patients. Great. Another thing for me to have CBT. There is a book on it but I don’t plan on getting it because I just ordered one for managing chronic pain. I will have three books on CBT, all on various conditions. I don’t really believe I have BDD. Maybe some symptoms of it but not the full disorder. One of the examples they gave was about a person who felt there nose was crooked and people were staring at them. I don’t feel that way. I just think I am ugly and every body knows this. They know I am fat because I am definitely not skinny by any means.
Growing up, I was always compared to my cousins who were thin. They always said to me, why don’t you be like so and so. I couldn’t because my father kept calling me fat so I felt like I had a reputation and permission to be fat. I couldn’t let him down. And because he called me ugly all the time, I just assumed every body else thought so too because he was my world.
I had a surprise when I came home today. I found out I had leaked urine in my pants. I stunk really bad. I was so embarrassed. I changed and felt immediately down. I guess my mood has been sinking since then. It’s so tough because I never know when I am full and lately between all the meds I have been taking, it’s been hard to pee some times or know when I am full. Plus I haven’t been drinking too much so that just makes things harder and stinkyer. It’s because of my nerve injury that I don’t have a sense of my bladder like I used to. I lost it back when I got it the second time around 10 years ago. I always feel a loss of dignity when this happens. You would think that after 10 years I would be used to it by now but I am not. It still hurts my pride. It makes me feel ashamed. It really sucks.