I should call this entry, the big baby has pizza and now she's happy. It's comfort food. Pizza is my comfort food. It's in the oven now, bubbling with my herb blend, fresh garlic, three cheeses and two meats in a cast iron skillet. I'm gonna slice up a huge portion of self soothing.
Also in the 'this is a healing thing' category is the response I got concerning the last doll I made and adopted out. I smiled through the entire email. That really made me happy.
I am teetering and I know it. I've decided not to fight it. Maybe it won't last as long if I'm not trying to fight against an inevitable break. Spasms and new medication as well as grief has pushed me further than I needed to go and I can see that plainly. If I can't stop this train from hitting the wall at least I can pad the wall. I can brace properly so the impact isn't as devastating. I can prepare by getting my emotional emergency gear in place. There will be pizza. There will be pepperoni, quality pepperoni, sweet Italian sausage and several kinds of cheese. There will be art supplies on the ready and a list of ways to keep myself healthiest.
This time of cracking up includes Clyde which is a good thing because I don't have to do this alone. Nights can get so hard, and long.
My pizza sauce has caraway seeds and rosemary so that it tastes similar to Pizza Hut. The crust has a bit of corn meal in it which crisps up quite nicely in a well oiled cast iron skillet. I bake the crust first then add the toppings. Most of the sauce is served on the side so that the crust doesn't get too soggy.
It's been difficult physically and emotionally over this way. I'm struggling to keep sanity it feels like. I feel like I'm on the edge of it. Between my body and nightmares, I'm just exhausted.
I'm hungry. There's plenty of food to eat but nothing I really want. I just want to sleep off the yuck. What I want is pizza but I don't want to have to cook it myself. I'm being such a baby.
In therapy today, over the phone, we talked about Michelle who is 15 years old. She really enjoys walking the dog. I also found out she likes our scarves quite a bit, especially the orange ones. There are 5 orange scarves here, lol. They're added to our coat or jacket and don't make us look anything like the green lady from Brooklyn we saw online today. ...continue reading "Difficult days. Killers and mothers. A mess of topics."
Today was another day where I had spasms. The pain gets so bad it frightens me. I want to run from it.
There's loneliness with pain. I'm not sure why but it's a lonely feeling to be in pain like that. It's even more odd when it's over and I'm out walking the dog as if nothing happened. It's strange. I mean, I slept hard after it but when I woke I got up and walked the dog as if I hadn't, hours before, gotten too close to crossing the line between sane and insane. I feel like I'll lose my mind. ...continue reading "Bad Day – We Make A Good Team"
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I complained about Zanaflex saying I can't stay awake and that I can't tolerate this stuff, but I was violently reminded why this medication is part of my regimen. There is no justifiable reason for one's body doing this stuff, for spasming so hard that panic sets in. Again, I looked around for someplace to run, for a way to get away from myself. I have to remember to breathe, to use my coping skills for pain management so as to help myself emotionally through the spasms and burning sensations.
Yesterday it was my left side that bound hard, let go, bound up then let go. The thing is, at one point it the muscle on my left side spasmed and held. I tried not to panic. I went to the room and got in a position that helps ease muscle spasms in that area. I put my feet on the wall in a bent knee position to get a good, deep stretch. Also on the wall are trigger point pads for my feet. Since my feet are sensitive I have to put them under the hanging quilt so the points are dulled just a bit. The position helps. It took about 10 min in that position to feel a difference. By then medication time rolled around and I could take more Zanaflex....and sleep off the horror. I wasn't upset about sleeping, not this time.
CRSD is a violent, unrelenting, sadistic disease. I'm amazed at the different ways it can find to harm the human body and maim the mind. PTSD associated with medical trauma is no longer a new understanding for me.
It's a different kind of world when photos of your feet on a padded wall becomes a photo op for a blog entry. I wasn't in pain at the time of the photo.
She said she'd start me out on 4 mg 3x a day and that we'd mix it with Lyrica and Cymbalta. She said it would be okay. It'll make you sleep, she said. Oh my Lord, this isn't sleepy, this is comatose...insane ..... and yet it is better than fire and pain with spasms.
I've tried to back off 4 mg to 2 mg but there's an intolerable rise in pain. I'm either comatose or in pain. Is there a happy medium? I'd take a level 6 or 7 pain if I can function, stay awake, clean my house, not drown while washing my hair cause I fell asleep in the shower.
Oh, yeah, one improvement has been less anxiety. That was off the charts for a bit, but there's significantly less anxiety right now. Zanaflex has helped with cluster headaches and spasms the way no other medication has, but I'm drugged beyond functioning.
I have a dadblasted cold. Dang it. I'm not a big baby all the time. My nose is running, heads all stopped up. No fever, thank goodness. Time for more honey and lemon. I won't be going in to see Dr. D tomorrow because of feeling like death warmed over.
It's raining, my least favorite weather condition. Man I hate water. I was supposed to work on that this year but other things took center stage.
This morning when I saw the rain I put the covers over my head and refused to budge, however, Clyde needed to go out so get up I did. Its funny because as soon as I opened the door he decided he could hold it. I thought, oh heck no. I got up, got dressed, buddy, you're getting wet. I felt bad for him though so we came in after completing half his business.
Yesterday was Tuesday which means I should have made fresh bread but that didn't happen.
This morning I wanted French toast or maybe an omelet but I settled for candy corn and coffee. ...continue reading "Indecision. Starting Over."
Content: Sexual abuse. Innocence of children. Violent speech. Anxiety insight.
I vomited up details just to give them away because I don't want them anymore. I've not gotten to say what I want to say, the way I want to say it. He doesn't flinch when I add anger and resentment to my words.
We talked about not realizing the purpose of the girl's clubs for inner city girls. We talked about how the girls my mother chose for special attention didn't look like me but looked like my sister. I resent that. ...continue reading "Therapy Review: One Too Many Times"
Keep talking. Write anything.
Shortly before my 6:30 alarm goes off I've had a minute to myself. I've stolen it from internet time, texting, phone conversations and world events. It's a moment to recharge and get ready for the 6:30 alarm clock and the few tasks that follow.
I let the alarm continue until it turns itself off 20 min later. It's set to play a 20 min segment of a lecture which helps me get lessons deeper in my head.
While listening I down evening meds, which is the main reason the alarm is set. I also take the time to mist the frog tanks, mist the crickets, turn off the plant lights and now feed the dog his dinner.
Six thirty is a transition from focusing primarily on outside issues to personal care. My creative juices start really flowing. I paint, sew or do something else creative. There are times when I'm not done with volunteer work and I need longer to finish up, but usually the alarm clock signals a change from 'you' to me.
Part of 'me' time includes walking the dog and interacting with him. He's an emotional guy so today I gave him a back massage and brushed him longer than usual. He did well with it. I love how much he stays beside me.
Even though I need space too, I need a way to get out of my own head. I need help out of the vacuum. Paying attention to pets helps with this.
Although there's much to do with deadlines to meet , this is by many standards a slow pace life. It gets even slower at the sound of the alarm.
2:07 am EST
My dreams weren't good but they didn't plague me. I laid in bed for a bit and watched a short lecture then got ready for therapy. We talked about how wonderful it's been to have my new buddy and how there's renewed courage to leave the house and go further than usual. I can't explain why a dog gives me that courage but he does.
We talked about the gift of sleep and how I can close my eyes and go to sleep without looking at the door fearing someone from my past will be standing there. It's not possible to stand in the doorway without Clyde letting me know. So I close my eyes and go to sleep....because I can.
The anxiety is still out of control with no real answer as to why. It's there, it's huge and it's not going anywhere soon. Dr. D and I went over a few things that could assist with managing it. We talked again about getting a stationary bike. I have to do something physical to relieve anxiety like this. Sometimes I just need to run from myself, get out of my skin and my head. I remember riding a bike back when I had a measure of health to do so. Man I miss it terribly. That's one of the best feelings ever. I know this bike will be stationary but my current need for it will be met because the motion of riding is what I seek. I figure since this is holiday time I can put one in the layaway at Walmart or something. ...continue reading "Therapy Review: Managing Anxiety. Relief"