Pain O’Clock Arises Again

Pain O’clock arises again

I spent most of the day in bed. I woke up really early this morning, in pain, so I took some meds to help and went back to sleep. I woke up in time for my therapy appointment. It was tough. She almost sectioned me as she gave me a choice of whether or not she could provide transportation or I could take myself to the ER. I told her I wasn’t going to do anything. Pissed me off. Then I said what are we going to do and she is looking into finding a therapist. I have no idea what the fuck that means. Guess I will find out next week.

After therapy, I had to use the bathroom. My mother made a fucking insulting comment as I walked by. Fucking hate her when she does that. Then I had the left over bacon she made and some cranberry cake. I could have finished off the cake but I wanted to save room for the popcorn shrimp for later.

When I got back to my room, my ankle and toes started their rigmarole. I took my meds and my antipsychotic because I didn’t want to forget again. I am cursing my therapist for making me stop my plan for tomorrow. I thought I would be able to go out to pick up my prescription but I will be too drugged up soon to walk a straight line, much less go back down the stairs and out the door. I will save it for tomorrow. I want to get Reese’s peanut butter cups anyways. I think that is a good reward for not killing yourself.

What was weird about the session is that my therapist didn’t think she could be my therapist anymore. I find this troubling. WTF will I be seeing her for if not for professional reasons? Makes no sense to me. I am all confused. She has it in her mind that someone else would be better if that someone else is face to face. She is going to find that someone. I just hope they take my insurance or I am screwed.

If I feel up to it, I would like to make cranberry muffins tomorrow. It all depends on how my pain levels go the rest of tonight and if I sleep. I can’t believe my pain syndrome has changed to day time hours now. Fuck. It’s just depressing that I am in pain whenever my ankle or toes feel like it. It’s hard to control that kind of pain when there is no rhyme or reason to it. I took some Ativan so my PTSD doesn’t shoot up. Once I get anxious, it’s hard to settle down and nap. I just get restless.

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.

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