For the past week or so, I’ve been in a pretty bad depression. Now in no way would I say someones thoughts were stupid, however, I declare to determine my own. My depression has been triggered because of my ailments! Not the first time, certainly won’t be the last. But the fact of the matter, is that it is hard to get a grip on positive thoughts, when I feel so low down and lost!
I hate taking my medications. At the time I started taking them, I really didn’t understand the ramifications of them. I do now. I don’t want them! I don’t want to take them. It really is poisoning my body. So then I say to myself, ‘I’m done, I no longer am going to take medication!’. That works till the crippling pain slowly creeps up, and I want to take a knife and start stabbing my legs. Silly right? Here I’m feeling pain, yet I want to cause even more pain by stabbing myself. The though behind that is at least I would be causing my own pain by stabbing my legs, instead of the pain just causing itself. I don’t know if you get that statement, but like I said, silly thought!
I take Morphine, oxycodone, and Lyrica. Not to mention all the other pills for the ailments that don’t include pain. It’s the pain meds I hate the most, because with them come withdrawl symptoms if you want to quit, and I’m a cold turkey kind of gal. Often I fail cold turkey, but that’s just me.
I was thinking back, when I smoked marijuana recreationally. Then one day, I wound up with a real bad throat infection, and did not smoke. I had an eating disorder, and I thought I had abused my body to the point of death. But, I did not smoke marijuana no more. In fact I became phobic of almost everything that I might come in contact with, even petting my animals. I was constantly washing my hands. The country doctors are not quite what I’m used to, and could never figure anything out. Even though I could only sleep sitting up, with my fist propping my chin up, to keep my airway open.
From that point I became sicker and sicker, my body was feeling utmost pain, usually from work, but I kept telling myself my body would be conditioned to my work. Pulling up on my driveway after work, it would take me at least five minutes to be able to climb out of my car, because I was in so much pain. I wasn’t conditioning my body, it was just getting worse, thus the turn to relief, medication. I won’t even mention the pain I dealt with for having two broken ribs, not cracked, broke and separated, for 8 months, before I was diagnosed. What were these Doctors thinking? I was hyperventilating and crying in pain, because my side hurt a bit? Finally, a Doctor at a hospital insisted on an MRI, even though I didn’t have insurance. He discovered the fractures thankfully. And to top that off, my regular Doctor was pissed at me for having an MRI that I couldn’t pay for. Was that it? Or was it because I came back after 8 months of suffering and almost wanted an apology for making me suffer so bad.
I keep dwelling on going back to the past. High school years. I don’t know why. Maybe in some strange way, I could have changed from becoming so sick? And it is so Stupid! It’s impossible, and I should be grasping the good fortune around me, that I keep pushing away. I wish I never stopped smoking marijuana. Sound silly? Well, when I stopped smoking, my ailments arose, that were probably hidden by the marijuana. Except for the body detiriation I am going through. My 71 year old parents are in better shape than me. I feel like such a failure. I was always strong, and bit the bullet. Blood, sweat and tears was my philosophy. I was hard on my body. That’s why I want to go back. Stupid me! I can’t! How can my brain swirl with such imbecile thoughts?
I’m just reaching out to find a solution. I’ve already started skipping my afternoon meds, and try to skip night time, but that’s when I want to take a huge hunting knife to create my own pain. Pain that I willed upon myself. In most of my posts, I’m positive. I need to stay positive. But, at times like these, I struggle. I feel sorry for my husband and younger daughter because I am not the wife and mother I used to be. I do have an older daughter, but she didn’t get stuck with the sick mom. My youngest has had a sick mom since she was about 7 years old, and she is now going on 16.
For those of you who read this, thank you for reading my babbalings, as I had to get this out of me. I normally want to provide my readers with fun, interesting stuff. Once in a while I have to reveal a real big truth of mine. Sorry for some misspellings,but as you might have guessed, I don’t want to go there right now. Please forgive me.