A little of everything Monday
I got about 5 hours sleep. I then went to Starbucks after making a PB&J sandwich for lunch. I ordered 6 shots of espresso and a donut. I wrote a little bit before I had to leave to see my psychiatrist. I kind of left early so had like a half hour to kill. I didn’t want to check in that early so I just found a bench outside the office and wrote a little more in my journal.
The appt did not go very well. I told her about having to go through withdrawal last week because I was late in taking my pain meds and she called me an addict. I tried to correct her saying I was dependent but it fell on deaf ears. She kept repeating addict and it make me hurt so bad. I seriously didn’t expect this from someone I have known nearly 25 years. She was being ignorant but it hurt none the less. I vented to my support group about it. I would school her later.
After the appt, I went to the Sprint store to change my name now that I have changed my license. It took maybe 10 mins. Crap. I still had like 2 hours before I had therapy. I went to a Starbucks by my therapist’s office and just ordered hot water for tea. I made Earl Grey. I waited for it to cool so I wouldn’t burn myself. The water was wicked hot. I wrote in my journal about what my psychiatrist had said. I then posted to a Facebook pain group if they had any information about the difference between addiction and dependence. The bathroom at Starbucks was out of order so I left to go to my therapist office. All the drinking fluids was building up and needed relieving. I just made it to the bathroom in time.
Therapy sucked. I told him about what my psych said and he said I should ask her what she meant. After discussing that, I just rambled about anything to make the time pass. I didn’t bring up mommy and daddy issues but the idiot asked me again what was my pain like. I swear he thinks I am making shit up. I told him it varies and depends on where the pain is. It is usually half my foot/ankle going outward starting about the 3rd toe. I told him I got depressed and hopeless and it was hard to keep up the mental stuff with the PT exercises the PT gave me. He said just do them. Yeah, cause it is that fucking easy. Are you serious?? He just annoyed me more than my psych ever did in all the years we worked together.
I get home and on the way, my cousin called me. He was unable to call the bank like he said he would to get information for me. Lazy ass. He said he would tomorrow. Sure, and I will win the lottery too. His mother really irked me because she called me while I was on my way to my psych appt. She wanted to know if my mother was okay. I told her she had to go to the bank, which her brother was going to take her. My mother wasn’t answering the phone. Well, maybe she was in the bathroom getting ready or taking a shit. I don’t know, I am not home. She got me fricken worried and all worked up. My psych sensed it when she saw me. I told her I would call my mother when I left as I was sure she was fine. She was. She was out and did some errands, which she obviously didn’t tell her sister. HOW DARE SHE! LOL fucking stupid bitch my aunt is. Freaks out all the fucking time over NOTHING!! I was so heated!
I get home and had something to eat before going to my room. I had a pile of mail. I brought it up to my room and then checked Facebook. The pain page responded with some links. I clicked on one and there was another link for a medical article on addiction and dependence. I opened it and read some of it. According to the article, because my pain is not adequately treated, I would have pseudoaddiction, where I watch the clock and appear “drug seeking” for relief of pain. I sent the PDF (attached to this blog APS_consensus_document here) to my psych along with saying that I felt hurt when she called me an addict. Then the tears flowed and I was a sobbing mess. It took me a good while to get composure. Then she responded and I bawled again. Fuck. She said it was not her intention to hurt me and that she didn’t want me to be dependent on the narcotics. Too late for that. And for that matter, I am dependent on my mood stabilizer, which I responded back to. I told her I didn’t want to be on opioids but the benefits outweighed the risk. I knew and accepted this just like I knew I needed meds for my mental illness. I told her the example of how I withdrew when I forgot to take my mood stabilizer for two days when my father was ill. I honestly didn’t think anything would happen but I had the same type of dizzy spell I had last week when I missed my pain med dose.
No one wants to be dependent on their meds but it happens to the best of us. I knew when I was 16 I would need to be on meds the rest of my life. There was no doubt about it. I had severe mental illness and the only way to manage it was through medication and therapy. Unfortunately, the therapy part hasn’t worked out yet. I can’t say I am cured, because I still have bouts of debilitating depression and suicidality. But lately, the pain has fucked up everything. Now I am depressed and suicidal due to a medical condition, Complex Regional Pain Syndrome. And there is no fucking way to control it because it is as unpredictable as the New England weather. I don’t even have the same pain twice during a flare up. It is all fucking different as night is to day. The only type of pain that is somewhat consistent is the fucking malleolus pain and the pain that is where my outward ankle and foot merge, just under the malleolus moving toward the foot. This pain drives me up the fucking wall. I had to text the Crisis Text line last night because I needed someone to talk to at 0100. I didn’t get a “counselor” till 0200. By then, I was sleepy and hungry. I made something to eat and then I said night to the “counselor”. The whole thing was useless. She kept wanting me to do some coping skills. I kept wanting to talk about dying. She didn’t want to hear it. How is that helpful?? Next time, I just write in my journal or maybe blog and hope the cops don’t show up at my door.
The temp dropped to 32 degrees. I had to shut the window because it was flipping freezing in my room. My feet got cold as ice so had to put on thermal socks. Then I had to use the bathroom again. I figure I would take my night meds when I came back to my room. My mother wanted me to make her bed. I did. Then got tucked back to my bed only to realize I didn’t take my night meds! Fuck. My ankle didn’t like me getting up again. I quickly took them and then got back under the covers. I put on a long sleeved T shirt. If the heat kicked on, I will take it off. Shit my foot is burning right now. Neurontin time!
Oh, while I met with my psych, we discussed the drug Vimpat. I wanted to make sure there were no interactions with the Trileptal as they both work on the same sodium channel thing. Last thing I need is my sodium (blood salt) to drop. She was okay with me trying it so I emailed the neurologist to go ahead and call it in. He hasn’t so far. The script for a refill of Trileptal my psych put it, never made it to the pharmacy. I had to email her again. For some reason, it had to be reviewed by the pharmacist so it is delayed. I’ve been on this med for over 10 years. If it is not ready for pick up tomorrow, I am calling to find out why it is not ready. If I didn’t have all my meds at this pharmacy, I would switch to another one. But this one is the closest to me and has better service than Rite Aid.
midnightdemons7 