There’s been a bit of radio silence, and that’s not an accident.
I’m coming to realize that there’s a whole part of myself that I don’t understand. Maybe I can’t understand it. Maybe I don’t *want* to because it scares me too much.
Yesterday was a bad day for me.
And I can’t blame it on any new drug.
But there I was, once again, a crying mess, on the floor of the bathroom, in the dark, desperately trying to figure out what way I was going to kill myself. I was actually wondering what the quickest, cleanest way to go would be for the convenience of my family. I’m not even interested in my old plan of going somewhere like a hotel anymore. I wasn’t even concerned about the most painless way to go. Just the fastest and cleanest.
The level of physical pain that comes and goes is so severe now that I don’t feel Copaxone shots anymore. Those alone used to make me cry. Now, I barely feel pressure as the needle goes in.
It’s almost a given that I will be hurting at bedtime. Sure, the medical marijuana helps, but it doesn’t get rid of it. It really helps quiet the “freak out” behind it. Because for some reason pain makes you freak out. It turns you into something you think you’re not… but apparently, you are.
I kind of loathe Rae + pain. She can be cold and mean and unnecessarily judgmental. And apparently she smacks people when they don’t listen repeatedly. “Leave me alone,” *means* “Leave me alone and don’t touch me” when you’re dealing with a crying, shaking, out-of-sorts, not-in-her-right-mind Rachael Renee, just in case anyone’s wondering.
I try to be a nicer, kinder, more creative, fun person. More me. But pain really sucks my will to live. It sucks my essence right out of me.
And the worst part is that I don’t even fully trust that it’s all caused by MS. I mean, yes this is MS… but I think this is being exacerbated by chronic stress.
The body doesn’t distinguish between physical and psychological threats. When you’re stressed over a busy schedule, an argument with a friend, a traffic jam, or a mountain of bills, your body reacts just as strongly as if you were facing a life-or-death situation. If you have a lot of responsibilities and worries, your emergency stress response may be “on” most of the time. The more your body’s stress system is activated, the easier it is to trip and the harder it is to shut off.
I don’t remember the last time something ZOMG-STRESSFUL wasn’t happening in my life. Divorce. Move to CA. Law School. Add MS to the mix. Preparing for Bar Exam. POOF Seizure Disorder. Preparing for Bar Exam Again. Fail. Prepare for Bar Exam Again. Fail. Planning My Wedding. Best In-town Girlfriend of 5 Years Dumps Me For *No* Good Reason And Drops Out Of The Bridal Party, Still Waiting on SSDI, and Adam’s Still Part of America’s 9.5% Unemployed…
I mean, I’m getting married, and life is good… We have our needs taken care of. We have a roof over our heads. We have food to eat. We have all the creature comforts we need. I have *no* reason to be suicidal. And yet I am *wickedly* depressed and can’t stop absolutely obsessing about how I think I’m not good enough. How I’m not earning money, how I’m not an attorney even though I’m not sure I want to be one because I think I only want to pass the test now because I couldn’t before (It’s like I have to prove something to myself.), how I talk about making music but can’t seem to get anything out, how fat I am, and how ugly I feel.
I feel like the meanest, grumpiest, nastiest, most awful burden that ever walked the earth, and despite how much love is showered on me, it makes no sense to me because I’m physically hurting so badly, and I think, even though I *logically know better* that somehow I deserve it because I’m that much of a worthless piece of shit.
So I spend every day of my life, fighting like mad just to keep a positive attitude. Just to be a normal person. Just to make choices that will bring me back to happiness.
I make myself shower at least every 3-4 days now. It’s better than I was doing. It’s easier to do now that I have a shower chair. I’m brushing my teeth every day again. Hell, I’ve even brought back out my “cue cards for life” that I made myself at one point. I’m reading them every morning.
But something’s gotta give.
I had an MRI last Friday of my lower lumbar region, and I have an appointment on Tuesday with my pain specialist. I hope so much that there’s something they can do.
I can’t keep going on like this.