Tag: chronic physical pain

In a Lot of Pain

by Midnight Demon, posted in blogging, chronic physical pain

In a lot of pain

Pain started late last night. It was mostly nerve pain so I took some Gabapentin to ease it. Then just a little while ago, I started getting zaps and my pain shot up, again. I haven’t done much today except going up and down the stairs to check for mail and make something to eat. I was planning on getting ready for my sister’s party but I am in too much pain to walk down the block.

But all of this pales in comparison to what is going on in Paris right now. I feel bad that there are hostages and people are being killed. A football (soccer) match was disrupted due to explosions. The story keeps changing so I am not sure what is going on. There have been separate attacks in at least three locations. Then there was another shooting going on somewhere else. It’s pretty scary. No one knows if all these events are related or not. Chances are they are. It’s too much of a coincidence for it not to be.

One of my Twitter buddies nailed it when he said the world stops when a western country gets hit when there are attacks while other countries are ignored. He is right. The news reports what it wants to report and it’s sad. Places get bombed every day but you don’t hear about it in the news or if you do, it’s a blurb in a news article. There are civilian attacks in Syria and Israel/Palestine every day but they don’t get noticed. The world doesn’t stop, it just keeps moving. But then you have the City of Light and everything slows down. I am not trying to make light of the situation. Just saying people die every day from senseless attacks and it doesn’t get reported or viewed as breaking news. I hope the hostages are freed without injury and there are no more killings, in any country that has turmoil.

it’s 0500

by Midnight Demon, posted in Bipolar Disorder, blogging, chronic physical pain, depression, mood disorders

It’s 0500

I woke up at 0500 today and it pissed me off. I have a hangover from the gabapentin and I will be making coffee shortly. I won’t be going to my “happy” place for coffee because I am making it at home. Starbucks still has the Sertraozinho coffee. They have plenty of bags. I might pick up another one when I get paid. I love this coffee because it’s like drinking a milk chocolate bar more than coffee. I could get it now but then my Starbucks funds will be depleted and I will be without funds until my next pay period in two weeks.

I didn’t dream. Usually when I take the Gabapentin, I don’t reach REM sleep, which is probably why I get a hangover. I feel really fuzzy. And I just took a small dose. I am glad I didn’t take two pills. The pain in my ankle is decreased but still there. I could take another dose and be a zombie all day but it’s my sister’s party tonight and I want to be somewhat conscious.

Last night before falling asleep, I was trying to read American Gods by Neil Gaiman. I must have gone through a few pages before I conked out. I hate when I leave in the middle of a chapter without a separation, but I had no choice. I just hope I remember where I left off. It was getting weird, not to say the book itself isn’t weird. I kind of wish I had the book rather than the kindle version. But the Kindle version is the one where he made adjustments and added a few words to it. So this version is longer than the book. It’s the tenth anniversary of the book.

Today is my Godfather’s birthday. He would have been 88 today. He died a few years ago. I can never remember the year. He died suddenly and in February. That is all that I remember. It really shocked his wife as he died in her arms. She was a wreck. Hell I would be too if that happened to me. I think I am going to call her sometime today to see how things are going. I haven’t talked to her since last year, I think. He was an important person in my life, always giving advice and telling stories. He suffered from Alzheimer’s so every time I talked with him, I had to tell him who I was and what I was doing as he never remembered. It was tough talking with him when he got to this stage.

Think I am going to make breakfast when I make the coffee. I am getting hungry. I haven’t had my egg sandwich in a while. I think I will make that. I really want pancakes but that is too much trouble. I make them from scratch, same with my oatmeal pancakes. The funny thing is the original pancakes and the oatmeal ones are similar. Only difference is that I use ½ cup of oatmeal instead of a cup of flour.

My mother was talking about my birthday plans. I told her I just want my immediate family with me. When I told my sisters this, they didn’t like the idea. My youngest sister is doing renovations in her kitchen and we usually have a party at her house because it is bigger than my other sister’s house. I really would like my father’s side cousins to be there but I understand that there will be no space. It’s all up in the air right now. Preferably, I rather not have a big party at all. I rather not celebrate. I am so depressed about my birthday it’s not funny. I hate it. And the fact that I am turning 40 just kills me. I never thought I would live this long. I have decided two things though. My sisters and I will be going out to eat to John Brewers and I want my cake to be a brownie with cool whip and cherries on top. I bought the mix so my mother doesn’t have to buy it. She just has to get the cool whip. It’s in a month so I don’t know how long cool whip stays for so I’ll have her buy it when it’s closer to my birthday. I wish I could see my therapist that day. But her schedule is kind of messed up because her kid gets out of school early so she is not going to be in the office the time of our appointment. It will be the first birthday that we aren’t celebrating together. If I get the Zipcar, I will see her but that is if I get accepted. I will know in a couple of weeks.

I am going to try and work on my story today. I played around with the new font that I want and got my book up to 50 pages. I just hope when I copy and paste it in the format thingy the font stays. I don’t know if you have to pay extra for it or not. When I had my first book it did copy over the Courier New font so I am hoping it will do that same with the Comic Sans. Formatting is going to be a bitch, it always is. I just hope I don’t have to revert to text and then doc to get this in the template that Amazon uses. It will suck so much. Like it did with my first book.

Other than that, I plan on doing nothing else. I am hoping to have an easy day and I hope my sister’s party goes well tonight. I made her a homemade card and I hope that she likes it.

Another Cold, Rainy, Crappy Day

by Midnight Demon, posted in Bipolar Disorder, blogging, chronic physical pain, depression, mood disorders

Another Cold, Rainy, Crappy Day

When I left my house, it wasn’t raining, but it was still cold and crappy out. I got to my father’s and quickly did his meds because I wanted to go home before the rain started. The weatherman said it would start in the afternoon and it was quickly approaching that time. I left after some discussion with my father about why his T-Pass wasn’t working. Turns out, he never bought the monthly pass and he didn’t have enough money on his card. That was why his card didn’t work when he tried to go on the train. During this run around, it started raining and I was cursing my father for keeping me in his presence. Before this, he called me back to his apartment because his TV wouldn’t shut off. HOLY FUCK, are you kidding me? Turned out the batteries in his remote needed to be changed. UGH. I just wanted to go home, be under the covers and write.

I had my Brazil Sertraozinho coffee today. I was going to have Pike’s but the Brazil coffee was first and it was a long time since I had it. It came out perfect. If my back wasn’t hurting, I probably would have done a happy dance. I knew it was going to rain today by the way I was hurting. After having my coffee, but before I left for my father’s, I worked on my story. I changed the font to Comic Sans because I wanted that font for my book this time. I wrote and it brought the word count to almost 1200 and the page count to 3. I was happy. I could tell I haven’t looked at it since I wrote it because there were some grammatical errors and some words didn’t fit. Like I had along instead of alone. Don’t know how that happened, but I changed it none the less. Once I get up to at least 5 pages, I will print it out to edit it. I have decided that I am going to edit each story as it comes out so that when it’s all together, I am not overwhelmed with it like I was with my book. I am hoping I don’t need an editor this time around. I just can’t afford it. I have to find a new one too because my editor quit the business for whatever reason. There is a chance I might be able to get one through the writing class place I have been going to. They help writers so I am hoping they can help me when the time comes. I just need to have someone look over the piece when I am done with the collection to really make sure I am not obscure. I am hoping to get these pieces of work up to 200 pages. That is my goal. If it’s close to it, like 175 or so, I will be happy with that, too. I used my first semi-colon today because I had to. I never thought I would use it but it fit where I was writing. I know I am geeking right now, but I am just excited to finally get back to writing something. This book that I am working on will be a collection of short stories relating to mental illness.

I wanted to write last night but I was too tired and knew that if I did, I would be up till god knows when. As it is, I had crappy sleep, waking up every 2-3 hours. It was terrible and I took benedryl too. So much for that helping me sleep. I really wanted to take some Gabapentin but I will tonight. My pain was off the charts last night, which is why it took forever to settle down. I was also hungry, which didn’t help matters. I finally caved in and had some bread with sauce. It’s an Italian thing. I didn’t feel like making something because that would mean having to wash dishes and I am anti-dishwashing. I only do it if I absolutely have to or feel up to it.

I sold a book today in Europe. It’s my first European sale. I hope I get the royalties next month. Lately, if it isn’t in USD, I don’t get the money because my bank only accepts USD. It is a problem that I have with Amazon. I don’t know why they can’t exchange it when they deposit it in my account like they do for Kindle. Just doesn’t make any sense. I have called other banks to see if they would accept deposits other than USD and they don’t so I am stuck having my money sit in Amazon.

My mother went shopping today and my cousin just called me to tell me they are on their way home. I didn’t pick up because I am hurting too much to go up and down the stairs. He is healthy so let him do the stair climbing. There is no reason why he can’t, other than being a lazy fuck, which he is. I have already done too much today as I was walking around and standing waiting for the bus. I can’t do anymore today because I am already in pain. I am the one that is disabled, not him. If I wasn’t disabled, I would be working. They just don’t get how much the stairs kill my ankle. If I felt better, I would help bring the groceries in but I just can’t. Tomorrow I have to go out to my sister’s party. If I exceed my limit today, I won’t be able to go tomorrow. That’s not fair to her. I’ll just stay in my room until they leave. It’s my pain levels I have to worry about, not some groceries.

Really Irritable

by Midnight Demon, posted in Bipolar Disorder, chronic physical pain, depression, mood disorders

Really irritable

It’s a rainy, cold, crappy day. I waited in a light rain for the bus to get my Starbucks fix. Today is Veteran’s Day in the US and to my surprise, things were running on normal weekday schedule. If there are any veterans reading this blog, thank you for your service!! Bus was a little late but not by much. It sucked because I had to stand the whole time as the bench was soaked. I can only imagine the pain I am going to be feeling tonight. It’s throbbing now because on the way home, I had to stand as there were no seats. Place was packed.

I didn’t get any writing done at Starbucks. That’s when I started getting irritated. There was a guy that kept on talking, low at first then louder as he got animated in conversation. Then he would stop talking, write something down on his pad, then start the damn conversation again. I was so damn annoyed. Even with my damn headphones on I could hear him. I really just wanted to go home. My first pen that I used really stopped working. No ink even though the supply was full. I decided to chuck it. I had another pen, in a different ink color, so used that. I was so aggravated I didn’t care that I started in one ink color and changed to a different one. I am very particular when I write with a specific pen. When I was in school, if I started writing with a pen and couldn’t find it because it rolled off some where, I couldn’t continue with my schoolwork until I found that particular pen, didn’t matter that I had another pen or pencil I could use. I had to use *that* pen. And it wasn’t a special pen like my pens are now. It was just your run of the mill Papermate.

Talked with my therapist today. As agreed upon, we were “therapeutic” today. She wanted to know more about the definitions of the needs I gave her last week and which needs I felt were important right now. For the first time in weeks, I felt like we had our normal conversation back. We talked about my accomplishment for the year was the New York Times article. We also talked about my first love, Wil Wheaton, and how he turned down the Huffington Post because they were not going to pay him for using his story. His bottom line is that writers/bloggers should be paid for their work. I didn’t read his blog post about it nor a story that Mike Okuda sent out the other day but I never thought about getting paid when the NYT took my article. They are giving me a little something, so technically, this is my first paid gig. It is a big deal but at times, I downplay it because I feel so crappy. So my therapist was trying to get me to understand that I am exceptional and something else. She used a word but I don’t remember what it was. She also wants me to feel validated in that so many people appreciated the article. I got a lot of discussion on Twitter and traffic on my blog that day. It has been two months and I still feel some pride every now and then. I keep checking the article on my phone every now and then to know that it wasn’t a dream. I bet Wil never wrote for the New York Times. My therapist, who likes to collect my things, wants a copy of the article. I asked her if she had it in my voluminous file and she said she doesn’t think she does. I can’t believe that in January we will be working together for 15 years. I know we had a few shaky weeks and I must have thought of ending things with her a million times, but she has been my biggest supporter.

We also talked about someone who left me a comment on my blog I wrote when I was feeling like scum. It was the first contact I have had from her in months so I was shocked that she read my blog. I appreciated what she wrote but I don’t think she gets the severity of my suicidality or is just blind to it. She never really acknowledges my suicidal thoughts and that sometimes gets under my skin. I find it invalidating.

I still haven’t asked her about narcissistic injury. We still were talking about my father’s presence gives me such trouble. I have to deal with him tomorrow and a little bit on Friday. That is three times this week that I have to deal with him. Today is my aunt’s birthday. I have been meaning to call her but haven’t struck up the nerve. Every time I call, it’s always the same conversation, why don’t you visit me more often. I wish I could but I don’t have a car. She turns 91 today. I mailed her a card on Monday. She probably will get it tomorrow as today is a holiday.

I really need to shower today but it’s cold in the house. I have been good with the every other day thing so today I need to as I really don’t want to tomorrow. I never know if it will exhaust me or not. I am already exhausted so I know that if I take a shower, it will further exhaust my resources. I just don’t have energy as I am sleep deprived. That is probably why I am so cold or hot all the time. I try not to dress to warmly because I do get hot quickly but lately, like my mood, I have been running cold. My psych wants my thyroid checked. I don’t know why she didn’t order it. I don’t see my PCP until next month. If it’s a virus that is causing this hot and cold business, I hope it’s gone by then. I can do without the sniffling, too.

http://www.houstonpress.com/arts/wil-wheaton-and-why-i-won-t-write-for-huffington-post-anymore-7896530

the link above is the article from Mike Okuda