Waves of exhaustion are fun
I was sort of having a good sleep, once I got to sleep when my stupid med alarm woke me up. I wasn’t quite awake so shut the fricken thing off, took my BP pill, and surprisingly went back to sleep until my alarm went off. I seriously detest taking this pill twice a day. I need the alarm to remind me to take it otherwise I am just getting half the dose I need to be on and I don’t want my BP to become unstable.
I had a fairly low pain day despite having pain spikes last night and going to bed late. I don’t remember much after midnight. I didn’t want to get up but when I said five minutes, it turned into ten and I started to rush. I had gotten dressed and got my muffins ready to be taken with me, then I realized I forgot my watch and had to go back upstairs. My mother then asked for me to take the recycles down and I told her I would when I came home as I didn’t have time to put them in the bin.
I got to Starbucks and because I rush, forgot my reusable mug. I ordered a new drink. Some kind of hazelnut macchiato that was supposed to be made with coconut milk but I changed it to almond. It also had mocha drizzle. It was okay but the milk made it kind of bitter. I probably won’t be ordering it again, least not with that kind of milk. I had a sandwich as I was to rushed to eat at home. I brought my Kindle hoping to read for a bit but I was so tired that reading was out of the question. I wrote in my journal for a bit before I caught the train into Boston.
I was early for my psych appt. I got really sleepy while waiting. My appt time came and I was still waiting. I thought I was going to fall asleep before my doc called me. I was so tired. I guess three shots in the macchiato was not enough. My doc finally called me and we chatted. She asked what was up with me and like I emailed her all week, I haven’t been sleeping due to pain. She asked where I stood with my PCP and pain doc and I said I haven’t heard anything in three weeks. So she emailed them asking them for a conference or something. My doc doesn’t play around. I love her for that. She did talk to the LGBT doc but was worried that without adequate pain control, she wasn’t sure how the hormones were going to affect me. I didn’t care. I already made up my mind about things. I told her I was suicidal and once I found a place to terminate, I was probably going to go through with my plan. I didn’t tell her about the other stuff. There was no point. I told her I wasn’t sure I want to start hormones as it all depended on what happened this month and left it at that. She didn’t press me for info. I started feeling weepy, like I have all week and said so. I asked her if we could increase the Zoloft as I am not a cryer. She said it could be hormones. I don’t care what the hell it is. I don’t want to be in the middle of my commute somewhere and have a meltdown over nothing. I told her 75 mg of Zoloft should be okay. So she refilled my script for that amount.
I left and was just so tired, I felt like crying again. It had started snowing and then sleeting when I got to the train station. I still want to go to the grocery store to get eggs. Even though we had like 6 dozen last week, we are down to like one. My mother baked and I used at least a dozen with my baking and cooking. We go through a lot of eggs. But the bus home came before the bus to the grocery store so I just went home. I stopped at Walgreens before home. The snow was coming down heavier and the wind was making it really cold. I couldn’t wait to get home. Before leaving the store, I bought some Reese’s peanut butter cups and M&Ms peanut because I wanted them. I didn’t even eat them when I got home. I made a frozen dinner and then went up to my room to change. It was cold in my room. I put my sweatshirt on and got under the fleece blanket. I still need to change my sheets but my back was hurting. My pain spiked a few times since being home. I just wanted to fucking die. My bones were aching so bad.
The one thing my psych said about the pain doc was that he wanted me to go to PT more than do anything else. I told her the stress of that. It is not going to happen with my pain levels and trying to do other stuff. I just cannot manage. The idiot also didn’t want me to wear my AFO anymore as he wanted more movement with my ankle. Since I was having a low pain day before the last block home, I was thinking maybe I should stop wearing it. I was only proved wrong as walking home my ankle crapped out on me. So screw him. He barely saw me for more than 5 minutes and didn’t even examine me. He just felt the temps on my feet. Some exam. Just pisses me off that this guy determined probably before I met him how he was going to treat me, or rather not treat me.
I plan on taking my meds early, reading 1984, and then hopefully sleep. Probably the last two aren’t going to happen but I can try…
aw that’s crap that your in a lot of pain again…
you poor thing I feel for you…
Muffins sound sooo good, wish I had some. Glad your psych doc apt was good though…
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Nice meeting you! Glad to have a fellow Carol Anne reader
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I have been waiting to write – since I am new to your blog and wanted to get a feel for your territory. Not make things worse with my comments. Try to come from a similar direction.
I met you on Carol Anne’s blog.
Your descriptions of fatigue and depression and pain are all somethings that I identify with too well.
I too want to die and badly. Don’t know what keeps me here. Perhaps writing does and connecting with other people like yourself.
You are in Boston I take it; I, in Baltimore.
I like those muffins you made – even if they had chunky bits in them.
More soon. And thx.
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