carbonqueen

Can someone please indicate to me, on a scale of 0-10 (0 being completely normal and 10 being completely terrible) how bad it is that I just realized I have made (with the exception of the ones I've met in the last year) every single significant male in my life cry?

And not just like, shed a tear or two, I mean sobbing cry.

I am sitting at my job. 54 minutes past closing. Because I am FUCKING STRANDED HERE. Some customer managed to walk off with my keys. Idk if they meant to or not. But this blows.

So, my trip to NY was quite nice, though it didn't really clear my head the way I had hoped. I'm at a point where I kind of have to eat my own advice. The relationship advice I've been handing out for ages. I hear it from all of my friends that know me the best and that I care for the most. Idk. I'm going to ride it out. I'm looking forward to therapy on Thursday to lay it all out.

I guess I'm pretty blessed.

Shower time. Tomorrow is my non-boyfriend's birthday (explanations on how he got that nickname to follow in later posts most likely) and I'm going over in the morning to give him a back massage because he pulled muscles in his back and is miserable about it. He's also very lonely because this is his first birthday in a few years without his girlfriend. Then it's off to work 12-8, maybe out for his birthday but probably not because my body is anything but cooperative, and then I'm off on Thursday.

Oh! And I feel I should mention that today non-boyfriend and I went to the gym (as we usually do in the mornings) and I went for a solid 15 minutes on the tall bicycle without feeling like I was going to die. I was so proud of myself and it felt good to see marked improvement already. So tonight I bought 3 flavors of slimfast so I can really focus on getting this weight off and getting into shape so I can start the Lyrica and feel confident about my body over the summer.

As usual, I lead a rollercoaster life with positives and negatives and no such thing as a stable mood.

So, Jeremiah's birthday was on Tuesday, and after a recent discussion we had had, I wasn't feeling like being little miss birthday celebration, but I made him french toast and cupcakes and whathaveyou. Thursday he announces to me that he's having people over on Saturday when he gets out of work (which has its own little issue attached), and that cleaning needs to be done. Whatever. I did help with the cleaning, and last night after an awful start to the day and working with a 17 year old gay-but-doesn't-know-it-yet boy who was fascinated by my boobs, I went to the store and got some snacks for them.

I feel this is an awesome time to bring up the fact that the appointment I had at 8:30 in the morning was with the pain management doctor who explained that the neck pain I am having is something leading up to Ankylosing spondylitis. Basically, the 3 herniated discs in my neck are pushing my 3 vertebrae plates together and not only are they inflamed from rubbing on each other, I'm developing bone spurs which will some day fuse the goddamned bones together. He prescribed me two fentanyl lollipops and gave me an appointment for cervical epidural, which will be followed by injecting steroids into the discs to reduce the bulging, and gentle manipulation to try to non-surgically convince the bones they don't want to be together forever. If that doesn't work, next step involves a bone file and metal in my neck. So cross your fingers, the appointment is on June 2nd.

Anyway, so I come home after a long day with a lot on my mind, and Jeremiah already has a guest over. That's fine. He's also shitfaced drunk. Whatever. The three of us hang out for a while and then other guests arrive. Once EVERYONE gets here (like 6 or 8 people maybe), they all pile into the office and smoke pot and make silly music. And I'm standing in the kitchen, not allowed to drink (so says Jeremiah because I'm "overmedicated") playing Betty fucking Crocker without the Valium or endless supply of good recipes.

And then the anxiety sets in, so I take my PRESCRIBED extra dose of anti-anxiety meds, and it does nothing whatsoever. So I get a text message from my friend Ashley saying she's at the bar down the hill and I should meet her and hang out for a while. So I tell them I'm going to go get coffee, and fly out of the house in a huge panic. As it turns out, all the Dunkin Donuts were closed anyway (I really DID want coffee) but hanging out with just ONE of my own friends was cool for a while and I calmed down, then went home.

I'm still grumpy about this whole thing. I'm kind of REALLY entertained by the idea that he's going to have the worst hangover this morning. I'm working 11-6 and then trying to fit in like 20-30 minutes at the gym before it closes.

And for those of you who may have been wondering, if you ever need to crap like it's going out of style, miss a dose of your extended release pain meds. If you REALLY wanna give it a go, miss two.

Time to go eat breakfast and get ready.

Last night I left the house at 9:30pm to go see my friend Shannon (who had thought I didn't want to be friends with her anymore because I hadn't called her...which was only because I had shingles and didn't want to infect her two kids! lol) and Jeremiah got upset and we actually talked.

I think we barely made any progress at all. Like, honestly, none at all. But I got some halfway decent sex out of the deal.

I have a lot of shit to do today. I'm done here.

I haven't posted in here in a while. I feel like there is way too much going on in my life lately to funnel down into a single rant. I really don't even know where to begin.

For starters, I am joining Planet Fitness out here. I was going to go this morning, but after doing the ungodly amount of laundry I carried to my car, into the laundromat, into the washers, into the driers, back into my car, and some of it back into the house yesterday, my back is REALLY bothering me. Mornings have been particularly difficult lately anyway, because I'm on extended-release opiates and when they wear off, I wake up feeling awful. Like a junkie, to be precise, except I don't have to worry about where I'll find my next fix, because it's in a pleasantly pink shaded pill in the kitchen. I have a love/hate feeling about this situation.

See, now I've lost the motivation to continue writing. I have to get ready for work anyway but there's way more that I need to get out. I think today I'm going to try to find a blogging service that is Crackberry friendly so I can update while I'm thinking about it and feeling motivated to write about it instead of trying to force it out.

WTF Why am I crying?

Fuck it, I cant deal with this shit another minute. Everything hurts, I can't breathe, when I blow my nose it comes out the most disgusting array of colors, and I can barely move my neck because of the itching/pain from the stupid lymph nodes.

I'm done! I'm going to the ER. There's no way I could handle going to work like this.

So, my life is falling apart entirely, no way to deny that.

On top of the fibromyalgia and the rest of the pain, and the pharmacy sampler set I swallow twice or thrice daily, my allergies had to show up.

Along with a rash and glands that are so swollen that they hurt.

I just want to cry all the time.

OH and on an ironical note, I missed therapy last week because there was a bomb scare. That must've went fantastically for the patients already there AT the mental health establishment. HA!

Time to shower.

This has to be quick, I'll elaborate on it later. Today I went to spend a little time with a friend of mine and he said some things that really shook me.

I have to put shit away and cook dinner now, but I just wanted to mention that. The things he said weren't anything major or monumental. Just simple things, kind of cute things, but things that really shook me.

I hope I sleep tonight.

Holy fucking anxiety...

It's 4/20, so of course Jeremiah is having a few people over.

I think it's just because I feel miserable and overwhelmed and freaking psychotic that I feel so socially awkward/anxious, but I do. And it's killing me.

I mean, it's basically time to take my medication anyway, so nothing will bother me soon.

I just need a vacation. Bad. Really fucking badly.

Jeremy's girlfriend, Jen K, invited me to her house tonight while the boys do what the boys do, but I never responded. I shouldn't be driving. Especially at night. But I should've at least thanked her.

I'm going to go put on more normal looking clothes. Maybe that will make me feel better. Who the fuck knows.

To make a brief statement, today sucked. Like, not just a little, but a considerable amount.

Bad day, late night, time for sleep. I will most certainly elaborate on this further.

Ok, so the boy has quasi-rectified the problems from the weekend, by managing to get me in for a tattoo appointment at a really good shop up in Amherst, at 6pm, this Saturday. So literally, 5 years basically down to the hour from my accident.

This is how it always goes though. Just when I start to think that I'm done tolerating him and ready to up and leave, he does something like this. Which is fantastic, there's no denying that, but it means that all the little things just kind of settle in the dust until next time I start cleaning things out again. Get it? Kind of.

Anyway, I'm super excited about the tattoo appointment, and am currently scouring the web for a sweet deal on a basic point & shoot camera, because it's next to impossible to get a good shot during a tattoo with an SLR because they're bulky as fuck and Jeremiah & I have both discussed buying a cheap point & shoot for a while.

Ok, back to work related stuff.

God save me, I will fucking destroy him on Easter Sunday.

This morning, I wake up, snuggle with him and my kitten (who was purring louder than I'd heard in a long time and very affectionate). I throw on respectable pajama pants, a bra, and a WNEC sweatshirt, brush my teeth, and go out the door to Stop & Shop. I buy a chicken to roast for dinner, strawberries, other shit, and bread to make french toast for Easter breakfast.

I come home, start clearing off the counters, and he offers to empty the dishwasher to make more room. So I come in and sit on the couch.

AND HE STARTS A FUCKING ARGUMENT.

Ok, so I didn't go to math class. I emailed the woman in academic support though.

Still making bad decisions.

I just want to disappear.

Or a new body.

Or a lobotomy.

I hear they've perfected the lobotomy, and it's far more effective these days.

Who the fuck knows.

Woke up this morning with a lot of pain, swollen hands, the works. But I soon discovered my kitten snuggled up against my painful feet. I picked him up and he stayed with me in the snuggling position for a few minutes, licking my face and purring. He's a good kitten.

I made the somewhat stupid decision to go into work early today. I was scheduled for 3, but I usually come in for 1 on Tuesdays and I knew Kate was going to be there by herself, so it seemed like the right thing to do.

Oh, and I'm 'manning up' and going to math class today. For the first time in a long time. I'm going to talk to the teacher and see what he's willing to work with me on. I know I'm way behind but I'm willing to at least try to do better.

Ok, time for breakfast.

So the reality is setting in now. And it feels a lot like life crashing down around me.

I'm trying to remain positive. It's not easy.

I'm fighting my old ways. My friend/co-worker Mike is going through a really difficult time and part of me is trying to rush to his aid but I'm resisting it as much as possible. I have some major shit going on in my life, I need to address that. I need to ask for help. I need to focus on me. I don't want to. Because as things stand currently, I'm miserable.

I now have a confirmed diagnosis of fibromyalgia. Which, right now, my brain is interpreting as meaning that I will never be able to live a full life and I will always be in pain.

I have a lot more I want to say but I can't even think right now. Everything is on overload and focusing on it and trying to process it is making me think very unhealthy thoughts and making me miserable.

I don't have time to elaborate, but yesterday sucked. A lot. Except for my haircut.

There will be a long, detailed entry in regards to this either later today or tomorrow.

I am trying to write in this more frequently in the hopes that it will keep some of the bothersome free-floating thoughts out of my mind so I can focus more on other things.

Today I woke up in a lot of pain. I took one of my low-strength pain meds last night and I was surprisingly comfortable. I have decided that when I go see the doctor I am going to give in and agree to narcotic pain meds. Even if it's just something strong to take at night or something light but extended release to take throughout the day so the pain doesn't get so bad at night. I am crying every night and so tired of this.

I'm not sure I've ever wanted to give up so badly before in my life, and I've lived through some serious shit.

I still have the option of a medical withdrawl, but it seems stupid when I only have 6 weeks left in the semester.

It really fucking blows when none of the options are good options.

Back to school this week. Last night I typed up my homework and I've decided that starting today I'm going to bring my laptop to school instead of just the notebook. At this point, since the insurance company has yet to finish the prior authorization on the medicine, writing with a pen is basically excruciating.

I feel like it took me till Thursday to get into the swing of actually relaxing and enjoying my spring break, and now...it's gone. Sucks, but such is life. Lots of pain this morning, lots of anxiety, and a really busy week.

Today:
- Grandma's 81st birthday (gift mailed and on time!)
- Call insurance company to see what the hold up is
- Call Commonwealth Care to see if I actually have to mail out a premium this month, bc I received paperwork stating I no longer have to pay one but the website says otherwise.
- Call and reschedule therapy
- Read and prepare decent responses to homework.
- Drop off paperwork to Health Services stating I finally had my last Hepatitis B series shot
- Work 3-8
- See how work responds to new facial piercing (or if they notice it at all)
- Ton of work-related shit to do at work
- Math project/ email math teacher
- Stop at Wal-Mart after I get out of work to pick up a few things I didn't get yesterday

Tomorrow:
- Face the music in math class
- Keep fingers crossed for my father's disability hearing
- Work 1-8

Wednesday:
- School 11-2
- Work 3-8
- Hopefully see Bruce at some point
- Do online math homework

Thursday:
- Math class till 12:20
- Psychiatrist at 1:15
- EMG/Facet injection/block/whatever in my neck at 3:30
- Hopefully getting the doctor or PA to sign my disability paperwork
- Driving home through Springfield alone, under the influence from the treatment, because Jeremiah can't/won't take me (let's not touch that one)
- Sitting home, alone, wondering if I'm gonna be ok after the procedure

Friday:
- Meeting with counselor in Academic Support at 10:30am
- School 11-2
- Work 3-8

Saturday:
- Work 9-5
- Drive to Northampton alone to meet Jeremiah & his friend Mike to go see a concert of sorts


Add on to each of those things battling constant pain (today it started at like 7 on the pain scale) and fluctuating moods and anxiety. In addition to the things listed, I also need to research and make a decision about school, maintain a close to clean house, and eat/cook/clean/drive from place to place.

I just want to say fuck it and give up. Honest to god I do. But given the state of constant pain in my hands, I can't even go back to piercing or go to school for hair or nails or something.

What a fucking waste.





PS. During this entry I spilled yogurt on my laptop. NICE.

I pierced my face again today. Jeremiah doesn't like it, he says it was stupid, but I'm not really concerned. I like it. I have things to hide it when I'm at work. He'll have to deal.

I'm going through a crisis time in my life. I have a lot of huge decisions to make. I have no one to go to for advice on these decisions. Well, except for my therapist. I only see him once a week, though.

I don't know. I don't want to talk about everything right now I guess. I thought maybe I could take the time to write out a nice long entry and maybe figure something out about my emotions, but apparently not. Brain says no.