I just got back home from a four day hospital stay trying to
get my pain under control. It was so bad
Monday I called an ambulance to take me there…they changed my meds like they
did a few years ago with the methadone, upped my fentanyl and took away the
morphine and gave me diladid instead. It’s
better now….but I wrote the text below the day before the you know what hit the
fan:
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Panic attacks have been running rampant since my
surgery. Fear that in the long run, it
will not make any difference and I will be left with making the decision I am
loathe to make. Fear that G-d does
indeed hate me and has been waiting me to take the plunge since I had the first
suicidal thought, at age 17. The pain
increases -d does indeed hate me and has been waiting me to take the plunge
since I had the first suicidal thought, at age 17. The pain increases ten-fold when in fear,
and it’s where I live. I called my
therapist at 8 in the evening. I can’t
separate myself from my pain anymore. I
have no safe place to go, physically, spiritually, emotionally. I cannot see
the forest through the trees. Too many
Amazon forest documentaries? Don’t think
so. All that used to relax me just jacks
me up more and more. Nothing, not
reading, movies, listening to BioLateral music, my oils, meditation…..NOTHING
takes the pain, or the perception of pain (agony, really) away. And yes, I pray.
I feel as though people have given up on me. Except for those who I pay to stay with
me. But I can see them receding into the
background of my tapestry as well. Try
though I might, I cannot pinpoint what is wrong, let alone how to correct
it. There is only one correction I want
now. Peace. Eternal peace. I have written this before, but the Catch 22
is that if there is no G-d, if it’s all an illusion, just who will I be angry
at when it’s all over? “I” won’t be here
to be angry at anyone. And if there is
an afterlife, just what will I have fulfilled?
All I see is darkness and pain. It boggles my mind. That is, what’s left of it.
I’m trying so hard to stay in the moment. The second, actually. It’s down to nano seconds. That is about how long I can stay in that
peaceful place. Mere seconds. I feel the air whoosh out of me and I am at
peace. Until the next wave. What is fear, anyway? STAY AWAY FROM THE NEWS is my chant, but it’s
hard to do. I feel I owe it to the
world to pay attention. Crazy, I know. I worry about:
Losing access to my medication
Never again being able to leave the house
Dying
NOT dying
Dying in agony (stupid, eh?
I mean, WTF?)
Dying alone
Dying around a friend or loved one’s birthday or other
occasion
Calling for help (as I did two weeks ago)
Not calling for help
Making sure if I choose taking myself out, I do it
right…leaving problems for loved ones.
Missing the few things I enjoy
(books, movies)
It’s that time of year again for
eagle watching but even that is not soothing me as aren’t the hummingbirds
(though I still feed them). I have
painted myself in some horrific corner for which there is truly, no exit, but
one. Unless something changes fast. What?
I don’t know. All my positive
thinking, This started the night before
my post op appointment and hasn’t really let up. I was worried about it, but the panic came
racing in from nowhere. All my sure
fire way of calming the waters does nothing.
Are my prayers being
answered? Is THAT what has me
haunted? That G-d is angry because I
didn’t push harder (though how much harder could I have pushed??) So the glaring question remains: What am I afraid of, and why? I’ve been praying to an end of my pain for
as long as I can recall. Maybe, G-d is
finally responding to me…it’s what I want, right? The REAL fear is sticking around with no
tools to cope. I also must keep in mind
that it’s only been three weeks since the surgery, with one major hospital
visit emergency two weeks after that….so really, I am recovering from the UTI
that sent me there. The one that made my
apartment look like a crime scene.
Taking this in account, I am
praying the slide into oblivion is a temporary one, or that …well, you know.
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