Therapy, Editing, and other things

I had therapy today, like I do every Wednesday. We talked about what went on last night in greater detail. I told her I basically snapped and she said she was glad I went through the crisis response plan. She think there should be a Pain response plan. I told her they would be the same, except I would be taking medications to ease my pain before calling for help, if need be. She read the blog I sent her and she didn’t think it was stupid. I still think it was stupid. I asked her if she thought I should increase my Zoloft and she said that I had grief mixed in with the frustration of being in pain. I figured she was right. The grief of my father needs to come out somehow though it’s tricky because I really have cried in six months other than the last two days where my pain has been outrageous.

I don’t know how, but we started talking about animals and the funny videos that are on the internet. At one point I couldn’t breathe because I was laughing so hard. There was one video and I will see if I can post it, about this dog that sees a bear statue and gets scared shitless. Then she was telling me about cats that are afraid of pickles. I need to look those up. It was funnier as my therapist was describing this cats because she was worried about the cats getting scared as they jumped so high.

I woke up around 0930 and then made the mistake of going back to sleep. When I woke up two hours later, I felt like shit hit me over the head. I was so exhausted. I needed to go out and get my espresso and something to eat. I went to Starbucks, of course, and after I had my drink and something to eat, I edited my book some. I think the first chapter of the book is pretty good. It captures the essence of what it’s like to live in darkness all the time. It’s by far the longest story of the book so needed the most work. I have 120 pages left to edit. That should be easier because the other stories are shorter.

After I did that, I wrote in my journal for a bit then took the bus home. A smelly smoking guy sat next to me and kept on giving me dirty looks. I was glad when he changed seats. Then he kept on giving me dirty looks like I did something wrong. WTF. I just shook my head. I’m surprised my paranoia didn’t creep up but it didn’t. I kept listening to my music until I got to my stop.

The pain in my foot increased a little when I got home. Nothing like yesterday afternoon/early evening but I took a pain pill before it got worse. My sugar pill experiment didn’t work out, much to my surprise (insert sarcasm). It did absolutely nothing for my pain, can you believe that? I guess it’s not in my head. What a relief. Granted it was just one pill but still…

Don’t know if I mentioned it or not, but I purchased a Harry Potter coloring book and some crayons. The reward to use them is to clear off my bed so I can change my sheets. I have slowly been taking stuff off my bed, as long as my pain levels allow. Last night my mother came to my room and basically told me to do something with my clothes rather than leave them where they are. OK mom, um, I have no place to put them (no bureaus or closet space) so where else should I dump them? It’s bad enough I don’t have a place for my books. I just have them in piles. But my bedding is my priority. I just hope I can do it by the end of the month, or before the bedding decides to make a run for it.

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 and tagged , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

any thoughts?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s