It’s been a year since my father passed away. All day I have been thinking about him and the events that went on that day. I feel really sad.
My therapist wanted me to do something nice for myself so I went to Starbucks and ordered my favorite latte and a breakfast sandwich. I tried writing in my journal but nothing was coming to me. I left to go to my PCP’s office to pick up my prescription. Walking there was okay. Then walking back to the train station, my right ankle started bothering me. I felt like going up to the ankle service as I was at MGH to make an appointment with the chief of the service but I didn’t. I just wanted to go home.
I had a half hour before the next bus and didn’t want to wait so I took a cab to walgreens. I left my prescription and said I would be back in an hour. I came home and felt really shitty. Both ankles were bothering me and I couldn’t stand it. I hobbled up the stairs, got the mail. I had to use the bathroom and then I went up to my room. I took three pain meds and 800 mg of ibuprofen. I am in serious pain. It started raining.
I had to call my psychiatrist so I did. I waited for her to call back. We talked for a bit. I told her I would call the ankle service to set up an appointment. I had to get on the computer to get the chief’s name as I couldn’t remember it. I called and even though I specified that I wanted the appointment with the chief, the secretary gave me the appointment with his PA. Asshole. It’s in a few weeks.
I just got notification that my prescriptions are ready. I need a nap. I will probably pick them up later after dinner. I am so tired. Being in chronic pain just takes so much out of you. I feel like a weakling because I just don’t have the stamina I once had to do things. It really depresses me that things I was able to do, I can’t do anymore. It’s very frustrating. I need a nap and then I am more tired than I was before the nap. It’s also frustrating because they are working on the damn house in the street over and they are so damn noisy. They are rebuilding the whole damn thing, it sounds like. Every day there is hammering and sawing. So hard to rest when you hear the noise.
I have been having intrusive memories most of the day. I keep remembering stuff that happened this day last year with the death of my father. I don’t know if I will ever get over his loss. There are so many mixed feelings I have for my father and none of it is good. He was an asshole and a miserable person who only thought of himself. He was vain and loved to stare at pictures of himself. He always had to dress in a shirt and dress pants. He never owned sweatpants or jeans. He always called me fat and ugly. No one contradicted him so I believed him. I still do and probably always will.