Days 41+

Day 41ish

Face it, this site was turning into a blog. I didn't like that. Weeks have passed since I last wrote. In PT, yes I'm still going twice a week, they've decided that my job is killing me (which mirrors my own sentiments. of course they're talking physical and I'm talking mental but it all boils down to the same body). I'm also still taking and enjoying my muscle relaxer. Without it I would be one giant spasm/knot. And I would never sleep.

I can sit now. I get stiff and need to stretch and walk around but I can stay in a chair for about as long as I ever need to. Most of my pain comes from the QL and the surrounding muscles, front and back, mostly on the right side but also shooting up to my shoulder, which happens on both sides, which means that little rock in my left shoulder is back. My doctor offered to go back to trigger point (the needle therapy) and told me to be consistent with the muscle relaxer and the stretching. I'm guessing the holiday weeks will be mellow and, therefore, less spasmy.

You know how you sometimes forget what it feels like to be sad? Tired, annoyed, angry, these we experience all the time but sad is something special, unique. A nice benefit of being constantly medicated is the ability to remain flat. Nothing gets you too high or too low. You hardly need to move at all. The ever present balance between good and bad is still there, with less of a swing. Then, one day, or weekend, or week, the good steps back and even through the medication the betrayals, manipulations, lies build so much you finally start to feel it. You thought you were protected, that you were shielded but no amount of padding can stop this process.

Your muscles fight the relaxer and your entire being tenses, knots, writhes. No amount of stretching can restore the order, the calm in which you were existing. Suddenly you are in pain again. And it's so intense you wonder if you can handle it. You wonder if your muscles will snap. You realize nothing from the pharmacy can help. And you try to keep it in, grinding your teeth, or clenching, trying to hold your face steady, your brows, your eyes. But you cannot hold it forever, and you cannot hide, and the tears fall so quickly you cannot wipe them away, cannot avoid the questioning of others. And even your breathing reflects the pain, every breath a sigh, and even it you cannot hold for more than a moment. And there isn't anyone who can make it stop. There's only you.

And it doesn't take long before you remember that this is sadness, how it feels, how it moves in you. And you know you need to force yourself to eat and drink and sleep so you try to make that happen. And you try to make sense of where it came from and how long it will last. You know you cannot control it but you can manage it and survive it. It's heavy, sad is, but you figure it out. And you try to breathe. And breathe.

Depressing. Nice.

Today I boiled up some cavatelli and a little worm thing floated up in the water. Disgusting. I emptied out my entire cabinet; everything in a box is gone. Cans seem safe but I'm not sure about sealed plastic bags. Better toss them out too. I wonder how many of those worm things I've eaten?

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