Having a Crappy Day, Literally

Having a Crappy Day, Literally

I woke up early this morning in pain. I took some pain meds and when I went downstairs to have my nutritious donuts, my brother in law came up with some dishes to be washed. He and my sister are renovating their kitchen and don’t have a sink to use right now. He told me my mother would be watching my niece as she didn’t have school today. Weird because they don’t have school on Monday either because of the holiday. So the kids have one long weekend. Anyways, my mother wasn’t up yet so I said I would watch her until her grandmother came and got her. While I got settled in the kitchen debating on making a burrito, my mother came downstairs and so freed me from having to babysit. HA! I knew I would be toast anyways as I took my pain meds and within an hour, I was. I didn’t sleep very good as I had weird dreams and then my mother screamed my name and scared me to death. Someone was at the door and she couldn’t go down because she hurt her other knee. So I get up and go down the two flights of stairs to someone that isn’t there. My niece had answered the door. Why the fuck she didn’t tell my mother she did is beyond me. I was so pissed I got up for nothing. So I go back up the two flights of stairs and my ankle decides it doesn’t like it so I am in pain again. I take another pain pill and go back to sleep.

I got up around noon or shortly there after. I had to go to the bathroom so I did. And then killed some time before getting dressed and catching the bus to the Square for coffee. I was planning to check out the price of chicken wings so I can make them tomorrow night or Sunday. I got to the Square and did my routine of having coffee and writing in my journal. I then went to the meat shop to check on the price of chicken wings. They only had small packages. I would need at least three or four to make the quantity I needed for the recipe and I didn’t want to spend that much on it so headed back to the bus stop to catch the bus. I then decided to go to Stop and Shop to pick up my prescription and get the rest of the ingredients needed for the recipe. Soon as I was approaching my stop to get off, it downpoured. So I didn’t want to walk in the rain as I didn’t have an umbrella. I knew it was going to rain today but thought I could beat it out. I was so close. So no chicken wings today. I will have to go tomorrow if the weather permits or if my sister or brother in law takes me. I would take either of their cars but I can’t drive them. They are big SUVs and I just don’t trust my peripheral vision to drive them.

So rather than wait in the rain for the next bus, I got off at the station to go home. I didn’t think anything was wrong. I got stuck in the down pour at the station and got pretty wet. Luckily, the bus came before I got soaked. And the bus had the AC on so it was pretty damn cold on the ride home. I just got to my house when it down poured again. I couldn’t win staying dry. Got in the house, changed and then felt like I had to go to the bathroom again. As I got up, I felt sticky and panicked. I didn’t pass any gas or anything while I was out so I was hoping it was something other than what I thought it was. I was wrong. I crapped my pants and didn’t realize it. That just made my day. On the anniversary of my CES diagnosis, I crap my pants. Just fucking wonderful. I really was pissed. I don’t know how long that crap was in my pants. I had no sensation of it until I came home. It’s possible I went while I was undressing. I don’t fucking know. I just know that it sucks. I feel ashamed of myself. I hate my therapist for keeping me here. I could die right now from embarrassment. Sure getting soaked by the rain is one thing but crapping your pants is another. I hate this condition. I should have killed myself 10 years ago so I wouldn’t have to be dealing with this today or any day.

Donuts kind of day

Donuts kind of day

This morning I did an errand for my sister and then went to deal with my father. He wanted me to buy him his bread so I got that for him. I also had to pick up his prescription he neglected to pick up during the week. My ankle is just killing me. All I had to eat today was junk food, donuts in particular. My sister had these apple cider ones she got from some apple farm she went to over the weekend. They were scrumptious. I had one and half. I would have finished them off, but I didn’t want to be too greedy. So I bought some more donuts on the way home from my father. I think that is all I am going to eat today and fuck the consequences. I might have French bread pizza for supper, too. I really want a steak and cheese but I think I will have that tomorrow.

I don’t know why I am sort of just concentrating on one type of junk food today. I’m still depressed and still have no idea what I am going to do about therapy. I doubt I will be able to find someone in my area. And the idea of starting new after almost 15 years doesn’t appeal to me. It’s just so damn frustrating to deal with someone that has an anxiety disorder while trying to treat you. She is just so dense sometimes. It pisses me off. And the fact that I want to kill myself just sends her in an uproar every time. She doesn’t hear me after I tell her that. So then I am alone with my thoughts so why should I continue with therapy? Every therapist I have ever known doesn’t know how to deal with a suicidal person. They just think they should be in the hospital if they aren’t safe and that is that. Well the hospital doesn’t care anymore, either. I spent three weeks in the hospital last year and none of my issues were talked about or dealt with. Three damn weeks. Every time I did bring it up, they said we’ll deal with this tomorrow and left me there hanging. It just got frustrating after a while. The only people that really wanted to listen to you were the staff members and nurses. Some of them anyway. If you happened to get a good staff member, it was a good day. Got a staff that was so so or thought they knew everything, it was tough. I am just frustrated by the system.

I am very tired of trying to seek out help and just not getting it. I am at a “why bother” phase. I don’t know why I bother to try and continue with a therapist that talks too much all the time. Or why I see my psychiatrist who doesn’t have any new medicines to try me on because there is nothing more left to try. She listens to me and does offer support. I wish sometimes she could be my therapist but it doesn’t work that way. She is strictly meds and a little more. That is all. I wonder what it would be like just seeing my psych and not seeing a therapist. But I don’t think I can go just every two weeks without talking with someone. That is a long time to go without speaking to someone. I just don’t think I could do that.

I was talking with a long time friend last night about my laptop issues. He sent me to the Dell website with updates for my video drivers. I thought it worked as I was able to move the lid without video problems. But today when I turned on my laptop, it wouldn’t and when I moved the lid, the screen got all fuzzy. CRAP. Now I will have to take it to him or another computer place to deal with the issue. He thinks a wire is loose and is causing the problem. I wish I could just take the damn thing apart and fix it but I haven’t a clue what to do or how to do it. Maybe if this suicidal phase passes and I am still alive, I will deal. Until then, it’s moving the lid until the picture settles.

My father was very affectionate today, which is unusual. He never gave me a hug before in my adult life. Today he did. Weird. He also was very grateful that I do the things for him. Again, strange as I have been doing this for him for at least a year now and he never seemed to be grateful. It was just weird.

just done

I didn’t sleep well last night so I have been tired most of the day. I didn’t want to have coffee because I thought I would go out. But I didn’t. I had therapy and was exhausted so I just took a nap.

My therapist was in a talkative mood today. It annoyed me. Not even half way through session, I spoke up because she was just started talking about how I should be an editor. WTF does that have to do with my depression or that today is my CES anniversary day? I got so pissed off. Then when she finally shut up, I didn’t talk the rest of the session and I didn’t care. I was done. I told her I didn’t want to talk to her the rest of next week and she pulled the brakes on that idea. Maybe meeting twice a week is too much. Maybe I just need once a week. I just know this isn’t working out. Then she says we need to meet in person. Yea, lovely idea. How when I don’t have a stupid car? Like meeting in person is going to solve the problem. I am just done with her and therapy. I almost cried while we were talking. I don’t know why I wanted to cry. But she didn’t have a clue or a sense that I was ready to cry. She never has a clue.

I wanted to kill myself in the worst way today but I just decided to sleep. My day will be coming soon enough. I am just so damn done. I am done being in pain and dealing with an airhead therapist. Sadly, I don’t think I can find another therapist in my area. Most that I have tried to see end the conversation soon as they find out I have a suicidal past. So screw that. No one new wants to help me so be it. I think after 11 times is enough searching anyway. Course, having to go through 13 therapists are enough. I should have stopped at ten and ended my life. Thing is, I am not really that depressed, yet I want to kill myself. I really don’t think you need to be depressed in order to try and kill yourself. People think this but it’s not clear. I mean there are a lot of people who suffer from depression. Not all want to end their life. Some do. Some don’t. And what separates those that do from those that don’t? No one really knows.

I’m just done. I don’t have anymore fighting left in me. I don’t have any hope that things are going to get better. Both my ankles are starting to hurt and I am scared something is wrong with my Achilles in my right foot. I can’t deal with anymore pain.

Hurricane Joaquin

Hurricane Joaquin

Today has been heavy rain and flash floods every where. I am glad I didn’t venture out as I would have gotten soaked. It’s windy but not too much. During one of the breaks in the rain, my mother decided to open the back porch door. Then the heavy rain fell. Luckily, I got to the kitchen in time before it flooded. It is really humid and the house is very muggy as most of the windows are closed. I am ok in my room, but then I have the AC. I hope the rain clears up by tomorrow as I really don’t want to be traveling in the rain. I don’t mind getting wet if I am just walking in the rain (I love it!) but if I have to go somewhere, I hate being in wet clothes. I don’t usually carry an umbrella in stormy weather because all you are doing is fighting with the damn thing and going to get soaked either way. I will carry it if there is no wind, which is what I hope the case will be tomorrow.

I’m glad I didn’t have to go into town today. There was a fire inside one of the stations and flooding at another one. Good going MBTA! The line was down for a good couple of hours. It is now just getting close to being on time. If the stations can’t handle heavy rain, I don’t know how they are going to handle the winter. This past winter there were major delays all over the place. Commuter rail going to the suburbs were affected as well. It was a disaster. I hope this winter won’t be as horrid, but you never know until January.

I had therapy though we didn’t talk about therapy things. Our connection wasn’t great today, probably because of the weather but I think my therapist needs a new phone and she is in great denial about it. So we talked about tech stuff. She was amazed that she went on the internet when I send her links to my blog. She had no idea. Talk about being clueless. She also doesn’t want to lose my text messages, which I can understand. She did that before and doesn’t know how she did it and boy, was she in a panic. I tried explaining to her that getting a new phone will suck for a little while but she wouldn’t listen at all. This is what I am getting from therapy. Counseling my therapist on cell phones and how the internet works. LOL. I found it funny and made a comment about it. She just laughed. She did read the yesterday’s blog that I sent her. She said that it was good that I sent it to her because she doesn’t know when her anxiety about my pain is interfering with things.

We then talked about my writing, or rather the lack of it. Today has been a long day because I woke up so damn early. She said to print out the things that I have written and read it over. Maybe that will spark something. I haven’t done that yet. I was describing the difficulty of writing when she asked if I had any journals about psychosis or something to that effect. I told her I just have suicide or self harm journal articles. I suppose I could Google something but that sounds like a lot of work for something that is supposed to be fiction. I don’t really want my short story to become a clinical paper. She really wanted me to write about my early experiences with my fantasy world but it would be too triggering for me and then with the weekend coming, her not being available, it would be tough to sit through all that stuff. So it stays in my head where it belongs. I’m already having enough anxiety over the anniversary coming up next week. What keeps going through my mind is when I got the phone call from my PCP while I was driving to my therapist’s appointment (I had a car then). I remember having to pull over because I wanted to listen carefully to what he was telling me and not crash into something. After the phone call, I was numb. I had CES again and I was to report to the hospital the following day for surgery. I am glad I had therapy that night because I was close to losing my shit, but it was a weird calm. I knew what to expect this go round because I had been through it before and I had the support of my group. I didn’t know when I would be able to see my therapist again. I was walking when I went to the hospital but wasn’t when I left, not unassisted anyway. I was walking with a walker or a cane. I can’t remember. I just know my left leg was weaker than it was before the surgery. It is what lead to my disability. I know that if I didn’t hurt my back the second go round with this horrid condition, I probably would still be working now. I lost so much after this but I was determined to make as full a recovery as possible. I had to fight to keep my PT appointments, even though they were just telling me to join a gym. A gym wouldn’t help me. I would have to figure things out on my own and fuck that. I wanted someone to show me what I should be doing and how to do it. That is how I learn. I think during my recovery time my therapist started with the phone sessions and it just continued even after I recovered. If I couldn’t make it to where she was, I would have a phone session. It didn’t become a regular thing until I no longer had access to a car to get to her office thirty miles away from me. Both my cars died on me. They were used when I got them and I just didn’t want to put more money into old cars. I do miss the Camaro. That car was sweet. I got my first speeding ticket with that car. I think I still have the violation somewhere in my files. It is paid, of course, but I just wanted to keep it.

There’s a lot of things I wish I knew when I got the second diagnosis of Cauda Equina Syndrome. Like how my bowels and bladder were going to be. They still don’t work the way they did before. I had retention and leakage with my bladder before the second surgery but it got worse after. If I had checked out the AFO before I got CRPS in my ankle, maybe, just maybe I wouldn’t have it today. These are the things that go through my mind. But mostly it was getting that phone call saying that I had CES x 2 that kills me to this day. It’s going to be a rough week.