Editing nightmare, writing, and other things

Editing nightmare, writing, and other things

Earlier this week when I was editing, I noticed that one story had given each paragraph its own page. I fixed it and thought that would be it. Tonight, I went to the next story and there was a similar error. I went to the next and found the same error. I panicked. I knew what I had to do to fix it but it was a lengthy process and would take some time and effort to sort through. It was more than 50 pages of work to sort. I had nothing better to do so cut and pasted I did. I fixed the book and in doing so, “lost” 20 pages. I am up to 125, without edits as I still haven’t inputted them but at least there are no formatting errors, least none that I can see right now.

Because I thought I was up to at least 150 pages of work after putting in some dedication and acknowledgement pages, I figured I could publish the book. Now I can’t because it’s too short for my taste. I really would like to get it up to 200 pages, minimum. It’s probably going to take me another six months or so to get another 75 pages written. I am so disappointed. So close yet no cigar.

My mother annoyed me tonight. I told her I was in pain and she said “well you are going up and down the stairs alright”. WTF She doesn’t fucking get it. The other day when my sister was here she was telling her that I go down the stairs “carefully”. But she said it in a mocking voice. I just can’t win with her. Tomorrow she wants me to clean the stairs, both flights. I will clean the bottom stairs first as those haven’t been done in quite a while. Then we’ll see about the other flight.

I just took a strong pain pill because I couldn’t stand the throbbing in my ankle anymore and the regular pain pills aren’t working. I hope I am not up every fricken two hours. I am really tired. It’s funny, when I want to sleep I can’t and when I need sleep, I do. There is no medium. I know part of it is my fault because I am on my bed most of the time so when I feel the need to lie down, I do and usually sleep, no matter what time of day it is. A sleep doc would have a complete fit if he knew my sleeping habits or lack there of.

It’s extremely windy and it is shaking the house. It kind of scares me because I fear the house will fall in. I know it won’t, sort of, but it still scares me when the house shakes. I hope the wind dies down by the end of the night. I don’t need anxiety on top of pain to keep me up. That just isn’t a good combination.

I talked with my aunt tonight. It didn’t go well. She didn’t know who I was and then started crying. It broke my heart. She wanted me to visit her. I wish I had a car to see her but I don’t. I would have to go by public transportation and it’s a pain because I would have to take two trains and a bus to get to her house. It would be worth it to see her though. I miss her terribly. She is the last surviving sibling in the US on my father’s side. I have one uncle in France but he has dementia and is not doing too well. I don’t talk to him because of the language barrier. He doesn’t speak English and I don’t speak French or Italian.

another day filled with pain

Another day filled with pain

I didn’t sleep well last night. I was waking up every 2 hours. I wanted to help my mother with doing something around the house and then go to Starbucks but dammit, I couldn’t get my motor started for nothing. Then I figured I would help and make coffee. That didn’t work either. I stayed in bed the whole day. Meanwhile, my foot has been throbbing like a SOB.

I am really pissed at myself for not getting up. It’s been like this all week. I think I am depressed as I have no motivation to do anything. I really wanted to go into town and see where the building was for the CBT therapist I see on Monday. Now it will have to be Monday when I check the place out. Least they have a Starbucks at the corner I can get my espresso as I won’t be going by the Square.

My mother was disappointed in me because I didn’t help her. I feel bad. She made dinner and I really didn’t like it. It was tilapia and a baked potato. I didn’t like the fish. It tasted funny. I only had half a potato and then retreated back to my room. All I ate today was Oreos and milk. That was my breakfast. Then I went off into dreamland.

Next week when I see my psych, I am going to ask if I can increase the Zoloft. I think I need a minor adjustment. I have been on the same dose for a while now and I just keep slipping off the edge more than I was before. I know it’s not going to help my pain or suicidality but it might help the other stuff. If it helps me feel a little better, maybe I can get things done. I made a real mess in my room when I went into my alcove to get my spare desk lamp. Just looking at it makes me sick. But I don’t have the energy to clean it because I just get so overwhelmed. I still need to move stuff away from my window so my brother in law can remove the AC. I’d do it today but it’s really windy and kind of rainy so I need to wait for it to be a better day. Maybe the weekend will be better.

I need to call my aunt to wish her a happy birthday. I am kind of nervous about it because I haven’t talked to her since my father passed away, and it wasn’t a good experience. She was crying really bad and it was hard for her to talk because of the Parkinson’s. I will never forget the noises she was making. It was awful.

I have been thinking about my father’s side of the family all week, well, least in my dreams, literally. Nearly every time I dream, I dreamt about my cousins or aunt or my father. I guess I miss them very much. I wish I was able to go to my cousin’s birthday party last Saturday. But I was in pain and it was not a good idea for me to be driving, especially as I really never been to the place before.

I don’t know if it’s the stupid time difference or what, but every night around 1730, I just want to take my night meds and go to sleep. It’s way too early for me to be taking my meds at that hour. Last night I took it a little past 1900, which is early for me. I couldn’t help it. I have been so tired lately. I know part of it is because I haven’t been on a sleeping schedule of any sort all week and pain has been fucking things up. I just hate it when I sleep all day and up all night deal.

I’m really fed up with being in pain every single bloody day. I just can’t cope anymore. I don’t have any reserves left. And I can’t help thinking that I should have killed myself last week when I had the fucking chance. It was a low pain day and I could have possibly walked to my destination. I’ll never forgive myself for not going through with it. I am so mad.

evening report

Evening Report

After my post this morning, I slept until my damn mother wanted to know my where abouts, like I am a child, not a full grown adult. I asked her what she wanted and she plainly stated she just “wanted to know where I was”. She was going to ask why I was still in bed but I cut her off. I am in still in pain, and have taken another pain med. I only took 1 pill because I am waiting for my psychiatrist to call me back and I don’t want to be drugged up, so to speak. I wish she would get back to me as I really want to lie down and sleep.

There was a huge backlash to writing to my friend this morning. Nearly every close childhood friend came at me. I couldn’t believe it. I just ignored them, for now. Then I found out eight trans kids killed themselves across the country. A friend I follow on Facebook wrote this as she has a transgender son. They supposedly killed themselves because they were afraid of what is to come. Even the transline, a hotline for trans people were overloaded today with questions and concerns. I started crying when I found out about this because it affects me so personally. The whole LGBT community is nervous about what is to come. I am too. I texted my therapist that I was going back to the closet if she needs me.

Last night as election results were gaining support for Trump, the Canadian website for immigration went down. It crashed because so many people were hitting it. My friend in Canada who works with immigration said she had over 300 emails and 59 voicemails to sort through this morning. I am sure it is going to get worse as time goes on.

For the first time, I am depressed over outside influences, aka the election. I try not to internalize these things because they change all the fricken time but this time, I am fearful and really down. I should have tried to end my life last week. That has been all I have been thinking about the past few days. I should be dead or on life support or something. I shouldn’t be here.

don’t know if I should write anymore

Don’t know if I should write anymore

I have been contemplating writing today. It’s been a difficult day. I again had pain and I think because I have been rationing my pain medication, I have been going through withdrawal. That hasn’t been pleasant. But there is nothing I can do about it until Friday. I feel like all I do is talk about my pain and also that it is boring you guys.

I didn’t go out today because I wanted to rest my ankle. Friday will be a long day because I have two appointments. I want to prepare myself for it as much as I can. I am not hopeful that the NP appointment will go well. If anything, I will get my usual amount of meds and hopefully a refill for the strong pain pill but nothing else will change. And I will be pissed off because I will feel unheard. If the NP gets freaked out and refuses to give me my meds because she is worried, I will end things sooner than planned.

I was talking with my therapist today about this. I told her somethings and it made her worry. She wants me to text her after the appointment with the NP to see how it goes. I told her I have no intention to do so. I feel things aren’t going to matter, which is why I didn’t want to write today. Nothing matters to me anymore. I am tired of fighting pain. I give up.

I took a shower today and made coffee. I was really tired after all the Neurontin I took last night. I plan on taking the same dose tonight. It helps me sleep some. I woke up this morning without the sock I had worn to bed. It’s hiding somewhere under the covers because it’s not on the floor. When I told my therapist this, she laughed and said I was such a guy.

I might write tomorrow, which could be my last blog. Depends on how I feel. Just feeling really down right now and not sure what to do about it.