Bad few days
Since Saturday, I have been having back pain. I didn’t do anything as I just woke up with it. The barometric pressure has been up and down like a yo-yo and temps have been crazy as well. I know once it levels off, I should be ok. In the meantime, it is hard to move and walk. Sitting is also difficult.
My mood has sucked all week. I have been having intense suicidal urges upon awakening and throughout the day. I sent my psychiatrist the post I posted on Monday. She said it was complex. I also sent the blog to my pcp’s social worker but have not heard back from her. I just feel like I don’t want any help right now. But my psych wants to know what I am up to and things because my suicidality has peaked. She also is not letting me be. Last Friday, she wanted me to call her midweek and if I didn’t, she would call me. Yesterday, she called me after I told her I wasn’t going to call her. I had gotten into an argument with my sisters and didn’t want to speak to anyone, much less her. I just don’t see the point. I am better off alone to deal with my stuff. I somehow get through it, though this time seems to be harder than it has been in the past. I kind of do but don’t want help. I don’t want help because I don’t think it will actually help me. I think it will just frustrate me yet the ingrained sense of “reaching out” when feeling this way is hard to resist. My psychiatrist has told me that if I feel like acting, I am to call her first. That kind of defeats the whole purpose of trying to act on my feelings. God I am so confused.
Last night, it was determined that my leather chair will be removed. I paid $300 for that chair. I thought about getting rid of my uncle’s desk but now I don’t want to. Fuck my sister for wanting to get rid of my things. She has threatened me that if she cleans my room and I don’t keep it clean she will “kill me”. On the other hand, if she does try, I will break her hands. My other sister wants me to get rid of books that I haven’t used in a long time. It is my books that I spent good money for. They aren’t getting rid of or placed in the basement to get musty or worse, ruined. I had books down there and they got ruined once. I am not going to do that again.
Because of my pain, I haven’t been able to do anything to clear my room or the boxes downstairs. Now they want to me to pack the stuff in my bedroom, to put in the living room. Where the fuck this stuff is to go, I have no clue. Fucking the office stuff is taking up a good portion of the living room already. I am just so stressed out and don’t even want to do a damn thing. Also I heard my sister tell my mother that I go out and have coffee but don’t clear my things. I only go out for coffee if I have my a damn appointment. That has been the only time I leave the house! So according to her, I am to be housebound just to clear boxes and clean my room?? I am so sick of this shit. They really think that my pain is no reason why I shouldn’t clear stuff. That I must be faking my disability. Next week I am getting paid and I am so fucking tempted NOT to give a cent to my mother. Maybe then they will get a fucking clue that I live here, too. Because right now, I feel like I can’t have anything in this house except my bedroom. And I will be damned to give half of my social security check just to be locked up in it!
Well, this is the stress I am dealing with which hasn’t helped my pain at all. I need to stop right now because I need to lay down. I can no longer sit. Hope the Tylenol and Ibuprofen help my back pain.
I asked my psych why she wants me to live so badly and she says she is my biggest fan, wants me to write another book (offered to write her biography, she declined), and I have something to offer to the world. Guess I’ve rubbed off on her after 26 yrs. *mind blown* She also said she was fond of me. Holy fuck. I can’t deal. I so wanted to end things this weekend. Now I am having a hard time with it. She wants me to call her some time early next week. If I don’t, she is going to call me. I can’t escape from her grip. Well I can but she is making it really hard.On the way home, I stepped on the curb where it wasn’t level. I nearly lost my balance. I twisted my “good” ankle, the one that was getting better. I had my brace on so I think it kept me from falling and possibly twisting it more than I did. I came home and took it off. I just relaxed for a while before hunger got the better of me. I looked at my ankle and there is a bruise forming. My PT is going to love that when I see her Tuesday. I put an ice pack on it after I ate. Move my foot and it still smarts. Hope it is better tomorrow but I doubt it.Even though my scale has been on the same weight the past week, my clothes are so much looser. I had a pair of jeans I wore today that were tight on me at the waist. No more. I think I’ve gone down a size. Even my PJs are loose on me! And they have an elastic band. Maybe the fat is being redistributed or something. I don’t know. I told my psych and she just wants me to see my pcp. I still am not eating my normal stuff. Yesterday I went to the game and only had 1 hot dog. I usually have at least three. I love their dogs. But I had no appetite. I also have been retaining my urine more. I am only going a couple times a day. I will have to let my pcp know. It could be my meds or it could be my nerves as my back has been hurting me more.I am so sore from the game. We walked all over the park. We met my cousins at the top top deck, which had me winded as there were stairs. I hated it. It a nice view but I like being on ground level. I had a good time as I love Fenway. But when I got home, my mood sunk.Today I felt like I was hit by a truck. Surprisingly, I could walk though I was sore. I was in a bad mood. I really didn’t want to see my psych but I pushed through. I didn’t tell my psych what my weekend plans were. I just couldn’t. Wish she would tell me what kind of book to write. She has said my writing has gotten better. Fuck. I said I won’t be winning the Pulitzer and she said that ok, she wasn’t looking for that. How she became my biggest fan, I haven’t a fricken clue. She surprises me all the time. I tried telling her I wasn’t going to see her again and she wouldn’t have it. I had either 1 or 2 weeks before I was to see her again. She gave me “the tone” so there was nothing I could do.
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