Decisions, decisions, decisions

So, even though they're late, the pharmacy has flagged a medication conflict.  I have to reduce my dose of Valium to 1/3 of what it is now if I want to manage my pain with a narcotic.  Most pain medications are narcotics.  If I don't do it I can die.  I can just fall asleep and never wake up again.

I've tried so many medications to manage the pain that I think I've exhausted the non-narcotics.  We tried gabapentin and it threw me into a several days long panic attack.

I've tried anti-depressants, combinations of anti-depressants and anti-anxiety meds, and mood stabilizers to manage the mental health issues.  I finally find an anti-anxiety med that seems to help a bit and now I have to drop down to a less than therapeutic dose.  We started at 15mg per day and had to bump to 30 mg per day because it wasn't working.  WTF?

My moods are getting more unstable because I don't have as much of the stabilizer and will have less in a couple of days til I'm completely off.

I feel like I have to choose now between holding onto a little bit of sanity or coming off all pain medications and dealing with the full-pain.  I understand why I have to reduce the Valium but it still sucks ass.

It would have been helpful if the psych nurse and my pdoc would actually listen to me.  I'm not changing pain meds because the pain is out of control, it's financial!  And the pain is not why I'm panicked and anxious!!!  FUCK!  Why won't they listen to me?  I don't understand.

I feel so stuck.  My options suck.  How am I going to live beyond mere survival or existence??

Negative today for sure.  Panicked just because I could die.  I could just fall asleep and never wake up again.  I already fall asleep if I stop moving.  They say it's because my breathing is being depressed.  That's not the only thing that's depressed.

What is the Point?

I give up.  I really do.  I've been waiting for two years to get a damned hearing with SSI Disability now I find out that I should get a letter sometime in October but my hearing might not be until November and then it takes TWO MONTHS to get a decision after the hearing!

WHAT THE FUCK!?!

Some people have a pocketful of miracles, not me, I have a pocketful of crazy.

What was the point?  I can't remember now.  Alan can't support us for another four months on his reduced income and I can't be selfish and ask him to try.  A few weeks was barely acceptable for me.  But four months?  No.  Dear gods, who the hell is in charge of this bureaucracy and how do I fire them and get someone with some fucking common sense??

I haven't been sitting here off work because I love having nothing to do with myself and feeling like I'm wasting my life.  I am in PAIN!  The very last day I worked I came home and sobbed, wracking sobs because I was in agony from sitting at work.  I hid in the bathrooms crying because I couldn't handle the stress.  I used scalpels to cut myself to ease the emotional pain.  I wanted to DIE and two years ago October I tried to kill myself!  Does that indicate mental stability to you?  I'm losing the one medication that seems to have stemmed that extreme response.  I wonder what happens next.

Why the hell would my doctor list me as disabled if I were able to work??  Dear Social Security Disability people, please get your heads out of your asses and understand that I am a real person, in real pain with a real need for your pittance of an income so my husband doesn't have to stress out so much trying to support us. I'm so tired of worrying about paying for medication, bills, and food.

What was I thinking?  Believing I deserved an actual life, not just a survival or existence?  I have been such a fool.

I'm going to make one of the med switches now and get it over with.  No one can job hunt or work and go through withdrawal.  I can't.  I can't work, I sure as hell can't work going through all that too.

Ghosting

Life.  I don't know if I'd call this endless, empty, existence a life.

I don't feel real, I don't feel like a person, not unless others are around me pulling me into existence.  Until they leave again or until it's time for me to leave.  Sometimes I wonder if I succeeded in committing suicide and this is my personal hell.  I feel like a ghost just drifting through the World with no meaning to whatever this existence is.

I don't feel real.

Am I defined by my illness?  Is it who I am?

It has lost me a husband and gained me a caretaker instead.   He is just existing too, between work, sleep, and taking care of me because I can be a danger to myself.  I have to hide the proof of my past transgressions.  Long sleeves in the summer are a misery but I think I deserve it.  The painful scars aren't enough punishment for putting my loved ones through the worry I've put them through.  Seeing the scars every time I glance at my arm, they won't fade, being reminded of that day, knowing that I was serious about ending the pain is not enough.

I would give anything for 5 minutes of total sanity and happiness.  No I wouldn't.  The pain would seem more pronounced, the depression stronger, all because of those 5 minutes of peace.  You never realize just how much pain you're in until you get a break from it.  When it comes back, when it comes back...

I'm in a bad place again.  I want to numb the pain, trying to stop it is too dangerous and makes me less trustworthy in the eyes of my friends and family.  They wonder how far I'll go.  What if?  It scares them.  I wish they knew how much it scares me.

I'm ghosting through life looking for meaning.  Like the Velveteen Rabbit I want to be real.  I want my life to have meaning.  I want it to be worth something.