Thursday, January 24, 2013
When the pain is through the roof like it is today (demonic torture) and nothing is helping; not the new patch, not quieting myself, not my breakthrough meds, not food, I start tormenting myself trying to find the answers.
It’s then (now) that I often want to “figure it out” which is pointless. When friends and family try and ask those questions or make suggestions, I feel like shouting, “There is no rhyme or reason, no answers and nothing that helps. Don’t try and fix me. Just listen sometimes!” It’s amazing that friends and family are still around.
But when I am alone and my symptoms hit the ceiling, I do exactly that. Question. Try and fix. Drive myself crazier than I already am. Maybe it’s because I’m a bit constipated (again), maybe it’s the rain, or the heat or the cold, maybe the moon is full, maybe all the medication just isn’t working anymore (again), maybe it’s time for something different or maybe (my favorite) it’s time to move on. I can’t help having these thoughts; they just come rushing out of me, dancing around me, jumping up and down on my already hurting body. And then come the questions: why me? What have I done? How can I fix it? What am I here to learn? For which there are no answers. None I can decipher, anyway.
And today is definitely one of those days. I am trying to distract myself by reading but my eyes are tired now. I’ve watched a few episodes of “Frasier” which always makes me laugh. I’d try cuddling with Oliver but cats aren’t big on cuddling, except with each other. And Oliver is a bit histrionic; racing back and forth and crying for treats, trying to get me to think it’s his blood pressure. Well, he’s learned from the best when it comes to high drama.
Posted by Sherri at 3:49 PM