As I sit here in pain…

As I sit here in pain…

I have no idea what the fuck I did. I got really hot so decided to take my legs out from under the covers. Apparently taking my right leg out first was not the thing to do because my left ankle then exploded in fucking agonizing pain and I couldn’t breathe for a few minutes. It was so damn bad. I held my ankle as still as possible. Then it started to cramp up on me. Fuck. I let it hang off the bed for a few minutes and that caused more cramping. Double fuck. I took another Ativan and my pain meds. What else was I going to do?

I then got really angry. I sent off a couple of texts to my therapist telling her how I felt. I used more profanity than I have ever used for her. I usually don’t swear in my texts unless I am really upset. And this time I was. Not like she is going to read the damn texts. If she is, she isn’t going to fucking respond. She never responds. Pisses me off. I don’t know why I bother.

While I was angry, I kept looking at my laptop and things on my bed and wanted to fling all of it off my bed. I was mad at myself for “defacing” my laptop cover with stickers. They never bothered me before and I didn’t know why tonight it was bothering me. I knew I couldn’t fling my beloved laptop. That would be very bad and I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself. So I put some Pearl Jam on. PJ always calms me down when I am agitated and angry. Least until the Ativan and pain meds make me dopey.

I am almost finished (thank god) with the Lincoln Boys. I just read how in the 1930s and 1940s how historians were rationalizing the Civil War. One idiot thought that more compromise was needed and that if only politicians and newspaper editors weren’t so vile, the war could have been avoided peacefully. Another moron thought slavery was basically a joke because how could “white” people be so cruel to African Americans. Um, wasn’t this the time when the KKK emerged and lynchings happened? Not to mention that black people were killed if they so much as “looked” at a white woman? Sickens me, it really does. I thought this was written by a black person but nope, it was a white person. Unfucking real. I hate this author for his take on things, most of which have NOTHING to do with Lincoln or his “boys”. Propaganda, yup. I should write that. Maybe it will sell and I will be a NYT bestseller.

I got copies of MY book today. I needed one for a friend as I am giving it to her as she wanted one. In exchange, I get my happy place gift card. I ordered five copies. What I am going to do with the other four, I don’t know yet. I usually give them away to potential reviewers but that hasn’t worked out. I must have given away at least 10 copies and zero reviews have been written. But I sold a Kindle version of my book yesterday so I am happy. I’ll get 99 cents royalties for it. HAHAHA.

Did I mention that I am in pain? My toes were hurting before, like elves were hammering on every bone in my foot. Now my ankle is flared up beyond mention and cramping or throbbing. I can’t tell and I don’t want to touch it to find out. My shuffle thing really sucks because this is the 3rd time I have heard the song Release in the last 10 minutes. I love the song, but really? There are 11 other songs I could be listening to. Or 10. I forget how many songs are on the album. It’s having a calming effect on me so I shouldn’t complain. I just hate the shuffle function on my app. So if anyone has a good music app for Android, please tell me about it!! Rocket player isn’t for me but works until I find another one.

I’m glad my mother is ok. I heard some banging and shit downstairs so immediately thought the worst. Then she came up the stairs so I knew she was okay. If my ankle wasn’t hurting I would have checked on her. But I doubt I could stand. As I still can’t move my fucking ankle a millimeter. Damn you CRPS or whatever pain syndrome I have.

burrito for lunch

Burrito for lunch

I woke up several times during the night. During one of the times, I tried reading but it made me tired so I could go back to sleep. I left off after reading a page and a half in the chapter. I am glad I didn’t try to finish it because it was a very long chapter. When I fully woke up around 0700, I began reading where I left off. I thought the chapter was never going to end.

I woke up in pain so I took some pain meds because I was in pain, again. As I read, I waited for my mother to leave the house before making my way to the kitchen to make breakfast. I do this because I like having the kitchen to myself without the noise of the damn TV. After I had breakfast I took a shower carefully. It exhausted me so I had to rest a bit. The pain meds helped my pain and I was able to catch the next bus to the Square. I got my espresso and started writing in my journal.

I fellow blogger friend PM’d me while I was writing because she was having a difficult time. We talked nonsense for a bit, like we always do when we have our troubles. I forgot about my writing for a while and when we finished talking, I lost interest in writing. I decided to write a few more sentences and then get a burrito for lunch. After I got it, I waited at the bus stop to head home to enjoy it, or try to. I didn’t want to eat it at the restaurant because it can get messy and I hate it when the stuff gets all over my face and hands. I rather eat it at home so I can wash up afterwards if need be.

I emailed my psychiatrist sometime last night about my pain levels and asked her about the bed situation as I haven’t heard from her in a couple of days. I still haven’t heard from her. It’s not a pressing issue so I will just wait until she has time to notify me on what is going on. I am feeling safer since I know I will be in the hospital and the suicidal urges haven’t been around for most of the week. Yesterday the feelings of wanting to die were there because the pain was all fucking day, but I didn’t have the urge to end my life right then and there. If I don’t hear from her by this evening, I will shoot off another email.

As I was drinking my espresso, I began reading my Twitter line and lo and behold, I read a tweet from the Mass governor that really pissed me off. He wants to initiate a program to get those on work injury off opioid medication and to use alternative stuff. What that stuff is, I have no clue. The tweet didn’t offer a link to click to find out what he was talking about, exactly. I fear that doctors, in the coming years, won’t be able to prescribe opioids unless it’s for terminal diseases in my state. I will be fucking screwed, all because of the damn opioid crisis. I posted my frustration to my support group and found out one of my friends had trouble in Florida getting her meds so she moved to another state to get it. I have no idea if doctors are in this program to help patients get off opioid medication because there will be withdrawals and that can be worse than being addicted to the meds.

I’m back in the land of pain. I just took my pain meds. I only took one pill because it’s too early to take two and the pain isn’t that bad. It’s driving me crazy though because of its unpredictability. I know I went out and that is usually a trigger for pain, but damn, there’s no sense in timing it anymore. Used to be that I would hurt anywhere from 1800-midnight. Now it’s in the afternoon or morning and it just sucks. I brought this up to the new PCP and he didn’t offer any suggestions on dealing with it, other than to keep doing what I am doing. Nice, thanks doc. I am at the end of my rope and you just want me to stick with status quo. Unreal. Course, I wasn’t expecting him to have answers or suggestions. It would be too much.

Finally, a good session with my therapist

Finally a good session with my therapist

I woke up in pain and that set me off in a bad mood. I didn’t want to have therapy because I was dopey from the pain meds and I knew she would annoy me. Sure enough, within the first five minutes she was already on my bad side. I told her I was still waiting to hear back from my psychiatrist regarding the bed. I had emailed her this morning telling her I was feeling shitty because I woke up in pain.

I didn’t play the question game with her because I was just annoyed and angry. I don’t know where the anger was coming from, probably because I wanted to go to Harvard Square and I couldn’t because of the fucking pain. Instead we talked about my PTSD, which she was lively about because it’s her favorite subject. I told her my insights as to why I get anxious and we talked about that. It felt good to be understood finally about my being in pain and how it makes me feel useless and out of control at times because it’s never predictable. I am always on edge and she understood that.

After therapy, I took some more pain meds. I am somewhat pain free right now but I am very tired. My mother is making chicken cacciatore and it smells so awesome. I can’t wait to eat it. My mother is going to call me soon as it’s done. Chicken cacciatore is one of my favorite dishes that my mother makes.

I got no sympathy from my mother, surprise surprise, that I was house bound today. She thought I wanted to get another burrito but I really wanted my espresso and to get a new calendar. She said I could make coffee at home but I didn’t feel like making it today. I finished off my cranberry muffins. That has been the only thing that I have eaten so far today. I think I will make some boiled eggs. I am really hungry.

Before therapy, I took some Neurontin because I was feeling nerve pain on and off. I didn’t take that much, just enough to cover me until tonight when I can take more. It’s really making me drowsy. I think I will sleep before making something to eat.

random 467

Random 467

I am getting hot and cold flashes. Right now I am boiling, probably because my mother turned the heat up as the temp is supposed to drop. I am tempted to turn on the ceiling fan but I might be too cold after a while. I just took the blankets off and that helped.

I am tired and in pain but I am not sleepy. I read a chapter in the Lincoln book and was dismayed to learn that many people were scurrying to write biographies on Lincoln after his death, including his law partner Herndon. He so desperately wanted to write a book that he basically told untrue statements or hearsay. It got me thinking about all that I have read about Lincoln over the years and wonder if any of it is true. A lot of it says the same things so I am thinking some it must be true. But I wasn’t around during the time of Lincoln so who’s to say that anything is right or wrong.

My psychiatrist emailed me tonight, asking how I was doing. I told her how I was and how therapy was just becoming a chore rather than being helpful. I am resenting being in therapy with this idiot. And the sad part is, I don’t think things are going to change. I find it hard to believe that after all her years of training that she can’t help me anymore. It just kills me to know that after 15 years of working together it is coming to a close. I have never been in a long term therapeutic relationship before. It’s easy with my psychiatrist because she just doles out my medication and asks about side effects, as well as how I am doing briefly and then schedules me for another appointment. With therapy, it’s different. And it’s bugging me that I can’t do anything about it because it’s not me that needs changing this time.

I think tomorrow, I am going to play the question game with her. It’s a game I used to play with her when I was bored in therapy. She gets to ask any question and I have to answer it truthfully. There will be one drawback to playing tomorrow, and that is she can’t ask stupid questions that have to do with my suicidality, like “the one thing that will not make me suicidal anymore”. It’s a question that is on the SSF (Suicide Status Form). It has to be a genuine question and not something from a questionnaire. Maybe then we can move on to something important and I won’t feel stuck.

My pain is manageable tonight, for once. I just needed one dose, so far, of pain meds and it seems to be working. I hope my level of pain stays where it is or at least gets lower rather than higher. That would be nice. It’s weird how some days I can tolerate my pain and other days, I want nothing to do with it. I guess it all depends on my patience or maybe my depression levels. It might also have to do with hopelessness, but I am not sure about that. Usually, the pain has to be above my tolerance level for me to become hopeless. My PTSD symptoms are down as well. I am not anxious, thinking something disastrous is happening to my body because of my pain levels. Now if only I can get to sleep, I will be all set.

I have been listening to Taylor Swift for most of the day. I had to shut it off because I couldn’t read after I took the pain meds. It was hard to concentrate and listen to music at the same time. Usually, I can do both but sometimes, when I take pain meds, it interrupts one or the other. I really want to finish this book this week so I can read something else. What that something is, I haven’t figured out yet. It might be a John Grisham book. Like Neil Gaiman’s books, I am collecting his books in my “to read” pile but have not read them. I realized tonight, that I am a book hoarder. I just have to have a book, whether I read it or not. I don’t know why this is. And now because I have a Kindle, I am collecting more books on the thing that I have not read yet. It’s sad. I have to read at least one Neil Gaiman book this month or at least by the end of January because he is coming out with a new book in Feb that I must have. I am hoping to get a signed copy of the book, which means going to a bookstore that I love. I hope to get another book I have been eyeing for a while called “American Philosophy”. It’s a novel that is out of my realm so I think it will be good to read, that is if I ever get the chance to. I need to devote more time to reading than I do but it is so damn hard with being on pain meds and the depression that sucks all the motivation and concentration out of you. I have 5 chapters left in the Lincoln book and I am determined to finish it this week. I hope to anyways. I must.