A couple nights ago, I had been crying for a couple hours. I was angry because it was bullshit and it made me mad that I just couldn’t stop crying. Here I am, a week later and I can’t stop crying. Again. The pattern is always the same. just varying times of the day.
Work is ridiculous… there are zero words to explain the stress level I endure daily. I’m cool with the job, love it actually. Hate the toxic leadership. I despise that I feel less able to do my job and be successful because of the toxic environment. I can’t find any happy balance at work.
I know my previous work experiences are clouding my judgement at the current work and it makes me sad. Driving to work requires anxiety pills and a rubber band on my wrist to stop the panic… it’s miserable because only half of that is even from this job. The rest of that is a stress that today is the day I’ll lose this job and my medical marijuana card can’t protect me. It didn’t the last time and it won’t again. Nothing can protect me from losing my job again for managing my pain, opiate free.
Update on physical and medical… I am at a good 2-3 pain level with rare spikes to a 7. I think I can live with this pain level for a while. Mentally, I can’t bear to schedule another Botox /bladder hydrodistension appointment. I just can’t do it. I am due soon and haven’t even scheduled yet. My soul is tired of being poked. I’m actually going to try and delay the injections until I can’t anymore. I just don’t want to do it again. It makes me nauseous and my body hurts at the thought of all that. Again. Another Epidural- this time, I hope it’s just one poke. More Anesthesia- wake up hours later. Can’t feel anything below my waist. Can’t walk. Another Catheter and peeing blood for hours or days. I just can’t stomach the thought. For now, the pain isn’t unbearable and I’m managing to keep it at a 5-6 or lower.
I feel like I’m a shell trying to put the pieces together to make a whole person again. But these pieces don’t look like they used to. They’re different- all different. The colors aren’t the same. The size or shape is nothing it should be. It’s all different. A kaleidoscope of oddities that make zero sense. Where once stood a smart, confident person is now a skeptical, anxious person. It’s hard to reconcile the differences. I know that person is gone and I’m okay with a lot of her dying but I am not okay feeling so unstable in the aftermath. I feel like it takes me twice as long to make a decision or to defend myself when I used to take care of the problem immediately. Maybe if I’d just had one thing go wrong and not all of them… maybe if I’d just lost my job and not my reputation, relationships and the thin grip on my health… maybe one but not all of them at the same time.
The anxiety I feel daily makes me want to shred my skin to release the pressure my whole body feels. Constant. It never ends. My body has turned on me and I can’t make it return to normal state. No matter what procedures or surgeries I endure or how much I try to feel okay, it’s never going to be okay. I’ll never not be sick.
I keep trying to reconcile in my head, how does one agree to live like this? And then do it with a happy heart? It would be awesome if someone could make it all be okay! Make me be okay! I’m in counseling and it’s hard to make myself continue to go. Not because I don’t like her or she’s doesn’t know what she’s talking about… but because She can’t make me okay. She can’t make me healthy. She can’t make the medical procedures stop. She can’t erase the past mistakes and trust I placed in the wrong hands. She can’t change the fact that I can’t live with out some sort of pain medication/pain relief options. She can’t make me okay.
I did make a follow up with Hibner for sometime end of June. That’s his first available appointment. I took that appointment. It was a weak effort, I know. I should call him and see if I can get a message to him and see about interstim and if he can even do them… but that requires a ready-‘ness’ on my part to go to Phoenix and ask for more time off work… and I don’t have it to give. So I’ll chill until the pain drives me back to see him.
Until then. I’ll keep trying to survive this mess. Lots to do today and no time to fix makeup… done with the cry pretty shit for the day. Anxiety pill in and off to work I go.
Anyone got any advise on how to accept this medical nightmare that is my life? Maybe a ‘make me’ wand?