Tired of pain taking away things I love

Yesterday, I had a bad flare. I tried writing but after around 100 words, I was exhausted and couldn’t continue. I had therapy yesterday and for some reason my legs were really sore so walking was difficult. I thought it would get better as the day went on and I did my things but it only wore me out with each step I took.

I was in agony most of the night. I didn’t get to sleep till 4am. I kind of lost track of time as I was trying to find a tea kettle. I had made a cup of tea and the kettle we have is all rusted on the bottom, making things taste different. I told my mother and she refused to change the kettle and there is no way of getting the rust out.

I made coffee using spring water and saucepan. Coffee came out perfect. Then we had a t storm and I got a migraine with severe nausea. I still feel sick to my stomach. I didn’t think I was going to write today as I really am tired. I don’t know if my writing means anything to anyone. I’ve just been writing for me, because I like doing it. But after yesterday, it was the first time in over a year and a half that I didn’t write. I thought I might be able to write later but then it was after midnight so I just posted the pic of the pup. I might do that on days I am not up to writing more than a paragraph.

My writing means a lot to me. I have been pushing through tough days because I didn’t want to give in to chronic pain. Yesterday was the worst in a very long time. I usually am able to write how bad things are and yesterday, words just couldn’t come to me. I kept staring at the screen cursor wondering what to write next. My head just was filled with blankness.

Today was a little better. I slept most of the day, despite my med alarm going off to remind me to take my pain meds. It is really hot in my room though the temps have cooled off. I want to open the window but I still haven’t put in the screen. Maybe I will have my bro in law put in the AC and the screen. It kind of early but at least when it is humid, I can cool my room down. I cannot tolerate heat. As hot as it is in my room I have to keep my sheet covering my foot because the ceiling fan air hurts me.

If you are a daily reader, please like or comment if you can. I’d like to get an idea of who is reading. My stats aren’t really a good indication. Thanks and I am sorry for not posting yesterday.

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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