Emotional rollercoaster Sunday

well, let me tell you a little about my day. I wake up and text my bro in law who has promised to replace my ceiling fan for going on 3 weeks now. He says he can’t (after telling me he could last night) because he has to decorate his tree and then do snow removal. Okay. Another weekend of having a potential fire hazard but who am I to judge. I am mad because I go to his apartment for some English muffins as ours I had to throw away because of mold, and he is sitting on his rump, tree isn’t decorated and the snow isn’t removed. I was fumed.

I then watch a goofy sentimental video on twitter that brings dust to my eyes. I am overcome in emotion. I then decide to use the old laptop for some computer work. I plug in the stupid cord, foot goes berserk. I had enough and it’s only 3 o’clock. Now I am really crying as I know there is no controlling this pain like it has been going on the past 3 weeks or more. 😥

I went downstairs to have dinner before BPD chat. As I was walking toward the 1st fucking step, my damn foot explodes, again. I couldn’t bear weight. The cane was upstairs with my walking boot and my sister and her daughter’s were out. I started crying again. I sat on the stairs. My mother is telling me to sit on the couch and I yelled at her because I could walk the 5 steps to the couch. I just sat on the stairs, drinking the iced tea I made, wishing it was alcoholic. I was waiting for my phone to go off telling me it was time to take my pain meds, but I never set it. Took me more than a few minutes to collect myself and the pain to calm down enough for me to climb up the stairs.

Then I decided to join BPD chat. I was getting heated over someone who thought you can’t approach someone without training. Like what the fuck. I am not a professional but I always say I am available to talk to someone if they need an ear. I don’t have “training”, just compassion and empathy, which is all you really need. I was so fucking mad. 

Then I tried copying and pasting what I wrote on FB to a word doc and half of it goes through. So I’m now using my phone to write my blog as my new laptop sucks. Pain meds are kicking in and my damn mother has turned up the fucking heat again to heat stroke conditions. I turned on the fire hazard fan. Don’t fucking care anymore. I still need to fill my med box for the week. Dont know if it is worth standing for 15 mins or so. I’ll put tonight’s meds in a bottle and put it by the bed so I don’t have to get up again.

I’m emailing my psychiatrist and telling her I’m going to take 25 mg of Zoloft as my emotions are all over the fucking place. I have been really angry or just cry for no reason. I know there are reasons for it but since coming off the med, I cannot tolerate being so emotional all the fucking time. I have enough med to last me till June, I think, if my stomach can tolerate it. I’ll try to eat something with my meds to counteract the nausea but not sure that will work as it didn’t while I was in the hospital. 

I feel like yelling at my mother to turn down the fucking heat. I truly hate not being able to get around my own house, on my own two feet. It is making me really depressed. As I was sitting on the stairs, I was thinking maybe between my mother’s insurance and mine, we could get a stair climber thing. Only thing is, I’m not sure our walls are strong enough for the placement of the trolley. Plus our stairs aren’t straight down like you see in the commercial. It has a few curves.

One of my high school friends posted on Facebook about maple syrup. Think tomorrow I’ll make oatmeal pancakes. I love maple syrup but it is too expensive for me. Maybe my next grocery order I’ll splurge and get it. I did find out it can spoil so needs to be kept in the fridge. 

any thoughts?

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

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 )

Connecting to %s