St. Patrick’s Day 2017

St. Patrick’s Day 2017

I had a rough start to my morning. I woke up around 0430, again and made the mistake of going back to sleep. I woke up a few hours later and was in severe pain. I didn’t want to leave my bed. But I had to see my psychiatrist so I took some meds and hoped it worked. I wanted to catch the 1050 bus so I had to wait a couple hours. Ample time for the meds to work. I played on my phone while I was waiting.

I got to Starbucks and had a sandwich and my espresso, which I missed terribly. I was still tired and I just wanted my bed but I still had my appointment to go to. I kept snoozing in Starbucks, in between sips of deliciousness. I started writing in my journal after I finished my sandwich. I wrote about two pages. My mother need some things so I went to CVS to try and find it. They didn’t have what she was looking for. I left to go to my appointment.

I had a good appointment with my psych. I made her laugh several times and that made me feel good because she usually doesn’t laugh. I got my refills. I didn’t look at the Ativan refill when she handed it to me. I did while waiting at the pharmacy and found she cut my supply to less than what I was taking before. Shit. Oh well, I guess I am going to have to watch my pills from now on.

I told her about my father’s birthday and anniversary being next week. I am glad she didn’t want to see me that day. I would have been a wreck. I was almost a wreck today as I saw the bus I used to take to see my father go by after I finished shopping at Walgreens. I was walking toward Rite Aid as I needed some half and half and Walgreens didn’t carry the kind I use. I almost started crying but I held it in. Just thinking about it is making me sad. I still can’t get his last day out of my head. From the moment I walked into his room at the nursing home to basically his last breath runs through my mind nearly every single day for the last eleven months. The other night, I swore I heard his rasping crackle as he breathed. I never want to see someone die ever again. So my mother better live a long time and never get sick like my father did.

I told my psychiatrist what my sisters and I plan on doing with his ashes. She smiled and said that could be a blog. I’d write about it anyways as I am sure it will be emotional for me. After the trips to the stores, I came home and started to rest. I was dying of heat as the weather warmed up some and I was overdressed. My t-shirt was soaked. I got undressed and cooled off in my hot room. Once my body temp went down, I got dressed. I was planning on taking some pain meds but decided to play on my laptop as a distraction. While reading Facebook, my mother called saying she needed help with dinner. I thought shit, how is this going to work? My ankle is already being a brat so I sucked it up. It was chicken stir fry and rice so nothing too complicated. But I had to be on my feet to stir things around.

After we had dinner, I retreated to my room where my ankle and foot blew up on me. Pain med time! I am wicked exhausted so I think I am going to take my meds around 1900 so I can be asleep by at least 2100. I just have to pick up my meds at the pharmacy tomorrow and drop off my other pain med. I would have dropped off both the pain med and the Ativan but there have been reports flying that the combination has been leading to overdoses. I didn’t want there to be a problem on a Friday afternoon to get both meds when I really need my Ativan as I have just enough to get me through till Monday. So I just handed in the Ativan slip and will fill my pain meds tomorrow. If there is a problem, I think I can wait it out till Monday as long as I don’t have a flare up until then.

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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