Saturday Blog 82

Saturday Blog 82

I realized last night that I forgot to buy my monthly T-pass yesterday while I was out. I headed to the square and got my espresso. I decided to bring a book with me and read for a while. I noticed there were shuttle buses going to Harvard and was kicking myself. I couldn’t get my T-pass at the Square. I finished my chapter and then took a bus to another station. You can only get the pass at train stations. While waiting for the bus, I bumped into a former co-worker in the lab and we chatted for a bit. She just retired and I congratulated her on it. She is a really nice lady.

I took the bus and it made every fricken stop along the route. I was getting aggravated. I just wanted to do what I had to do and then go home and eat. I decided I was going to take the train home because it would be easier bus wise.

I am feeling a little better than I was yesterday. I was in horrible pain for most of the afternoon and evening. I did too much walking around and will not be going back to the mall any time soon, unless I have a ride. My sister freaked out because I spent so much on my prescription sunglasses. I told her because I have the progressive lenses, they cost a lot. She didn’t get it. Least I have it for the summer. I really love the frames. I wore my one of my new hats today. It’s 80 degrees out so it came in handy to block the sun.

Now that I am home, I am kind of hurting. I really didn’t do much walking around or standing. So frustrating that I can do the slightest activity and then hurt afterwards. It really depresses me. As I was telling my psychiatrist yesterday, I have a hard time just laying low all the time and sometimes even if I do, it will bring on a flare. I made dinner for my mother and I. Now I am exhausted and want to go to bed but it’s only 1830. Sox are losing. They gave up the lead so I am pissed. I just would like to have at least two games in a row won. It doesn’t seem like they will ever have a winning streak, but it’s still early in the season. Maybe April is not their month. I know it’s not mine.

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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