tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3569721426441122972024-02-19T04:40:16.318-08:00The Scream of the ButterflyThe Wisdom Cowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03234585081632385439noreply@blogger.comBlogger178125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-356972142644112297.post-80768113707805585192024-02-03T22:01:00.000-08:002024-02-03T22:01:07.080-08:00I Want To Die<p> <span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">I am so miserable. Every day is so fucking long and pain ridden, and I am relentlessly lonely. My body barely functions and my mind is going. I am “kept” downstairs, my wife and daughter living upstairs, which is very painful for me to climb. I am pathetic. Neither wants to spend any time with me.</span></p><div data-reddit-rtjson="{"entityMap":{},"blocks":[{"key":"7melb","text":"I am so miserable. Every day is so fucking long and pain ridden, and I am relentlessly lonely. I am 52, my body barely functions and my mind is going. I am “kept” downstairs, my wife and daughter living upstairs, which is very painful for me to climb. I am pathetic.","type":"unstyled","depth":0,"inlineStyleRanges":[],"entityRanges":[],"data":{}},{"key":"63fem","text":"I want to kill myself so badly, but oh, … maybe my daughter will want to watch something on tv with me in the next few days (which never fucking happens) … or I can hold on for the next Warrior game, that could be good … or the Niners in the Super Bowl … of course, I have no friends to watch with, no one to enjoy anything with, no one to even spend any time with.","type":"unstyled","depth":0,"inlineStyleRanges":[],"entityRanges":[],"data":{}},{"key":"51h1e","text":"Tonight would be so good for it. There is a big storm coming in. I could abuse what pain meds I have remaining and go out in our hot tub and slit my wrists, maybe blast When The Levee Breaks in some earbuds with a storm raging around me, feel something as I fade. Lord knows I feel no love or friendship or anything worth living for. Seriously, why should I endure so much agony when there is nothing but disappointment and loneliness and mind numbing pain left for me.","type":"unstyled","depth":0,"inlineStyleRanges":[],"entityRanges":[],"data":{}},{"key":"3h6vp","text":"Why can I not give up?!?! I hate this existence so fucking much. It will not improve, not one bit. I know this. I am fucked. Best case scenario is that I am miserable as all hell for 6 months, maybe make it into next winter in even more pain than I am crippled by now. i wish I could be brave enough to do it. I am tired of crying every time I think on it. I never had a chance to really live. ","type":"unstyled","depth":0,"inlineStyleRanges":[],"entityRanges":[],"data":{}}]}" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><div class="" data-block="true" data-editor="7fd8c6" data-offset-key="6vqmp-0-0"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="6vqmp-0-0"><span data-offset-key="6vqmp-0-0">I want to kill myself so badly, but oh, … maybe my daughter will want to watch something on tv with me in the next few days (which never fucking happens) … or I can hold on for the next Warrior game, that could be good … or the Niners in the Super Bowl … of course, I have no friends to watch with, no one to enjoy anything with, no one to even spend any time with.</span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="6vqmp-0-0"><span data-offset-key="6vqmp-0-0"><br /></span></div></div><div class="" data-block="true" data-editor="7fd8c6" data-offset-key="dkpud-0-0"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="dkpud-0-0"><span data-offset-key="dkpud-0-0">Tonight would be so good for it. There is a big storm coming in. I could abuse what pain meds I have remaining and go out in our hot tub and slit my wrists, maybe blast When The Levee Breaks in some earbuds with a storm raging around me, feel something as I fade. Maybe I could time In My Time Of Dying and go out to that. Yeah, I think I’d rather go out to Zeppelin than any of the crap I composed.</span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="dkpud-0-0"><span data-offset-key="dkpud-0-0"><br /></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="dkpud-0-0"><span data-offset-key="dkpud-0-0">Lord knows I experience no love or friendship or anything worth living for. Seriously, why should I endure so much agony when there is nothing but disappointment and loneliness and mind numbing pain left for me.</span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="dkpud-0-0"><span data-offset-key="dkpud-0-0"><br /></span></div></div><div class="" data-block="true" data-editor="7fd8c6" data-offset-key="e3m6r-0-0"><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="e3m6r-0-0"><span data-offset-key="e3m6r-0-0">Why can I not give up?!?! I hate this existence so fucking much. It will not improve, not one bit. I know this. I am fucked. Best case scenario is that I am miserable as all hell for 6 months, maybe make it into next winter in even more pain than I am crippled by now. i wish I could be brave enough to do it. I am tired of crying every time I think on it. I never had a chance to really live. This life have been such bullshit.</span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="e3m6r-0-0"><span data-offset-key="e3m6r-0-0"><br /></span></div><div class="public-DraftStyleDefault-block public-DraftStyleDefault-ltr" data-offset-key="e3m6r-0-0"><span data-offset-key="e3m6r-0-0">Please let me be brave enough to do this.</span></div></div></div>The Wisdom Cowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03234585081632385439noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-356972142644112297.post-23969504623079103802023-04-11T11:14:00.003-07:002023-04-11T11:14:56.607-07:00The Final Phase?<p> I think I am dying.</p><p>More specifically, entering the last phase of the life cycle. I don’t know how long this will last, but everything requires more than I am capable.</p><p>I have not left the house yet this year, I think. Walking has become near impossible. I don’t think I can even get on my bike.</p><p>My memory is failing in all new ways, more like my brain is cognitively impaired.</p><p>At a minimum, I am very sick. I am overheated after 3 minutes in 99 degree spa water when I usually do PT for over an hour in it, closer to 2 hours.</p><p>I have zero interest in going to the hospital. The effort required just to get there is more suffering than I am willing to experience.</p><p>Still have thoughts and hypothesis, but can rarely hold them, let alone write them.</p><p>The level of fatigue is such that I cannot even regret my life or situation much before forgetting why I am crying, lol. I hypothesize that is how we end up “accepting” death. We’d be panicked but we’re just too damn tired to complain.</p><p>I made it through the winter. It is starting to warm up. I don’t think I will get to enjoy it, unable to function.</p><p>A sad story, me.</p>The Wisdom Cowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03234585081632385439noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-356972142644112297.post-49495843410110024722023-03-19T02:15:00.001-07:002023-03-19T02:15:28.497-07:00Screaming in to the Void<p>I <span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; caret-color: rgb(215, 218, 220); color: #d7dadc; font-size: 14px;"><span style="font-family: courier;">am broken, mentally and physically. I am so angry. I never had a chance. I want to be done. I want to live, not just exist in this miserable reality I keep enduring. i wish I could have known. It is such torture, in pain and isolation, 16-19 hours a day in bed, maybe 4-5 or those sleeping.</span></span></p><p class="_1qeIAgB0cPwnLhDF9XSiJM" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; border: 0px; caret-color: rgb(215, 218, 220); color: #d7dadc; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0.8em 0px 0.25em; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: courier;">First, I couldn’t work. Then, I couldn’t travel. Then, I could not even think well enough to interact on mic. Then, I could barely walk. Throughout, I have tried to keep hope. I’ve tried to help others with what little knowledge I can express. But I am so broken now, so crippled, no one can stand spending time with me.</span></p><p class="_1qeIAgB0cPwnLhDF9XSiJM" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; border: 0px; caret-color: rgb(215, 218, 220); color: #d7dadc; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0.8em 0px 0.25em; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: courier;">I am the character from The Beach, slowly dying, miserable and screaming in agony, and everyone else cannot live while I remain struggling, not wanting to die, but unable to live. I will never be comfortable again. I will never feel accepted or safe. This life has been such a cruel experience.</span></p><p class="_1qeIAgB0cPwnLhDF9XSiJM" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; border: 0px; caret-color: rgb(215, 218, 220); color: #d7dadc; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0.8em 0px 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: courier;">I am taunted by the possibility of moments of friendship that will never come to pass, moments that would make this painful existence seem worthwhile, at least in the moment. I dream and hope for a miracle and all I get is pain. I can’t handle these sleepless nights anymore. I need summer to get here. I need some physical warmth. I have had so little emotional warmth. I am too broken for others to engage with.</span></p>The Wisdom Cowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03234585081632385439noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-356972142644112297.post-42812027646899068972023-03-01T03:50:00.005-08:002023-03-01T03:50:57.823-08:00Oh, F*** Me<p>There is a personal nemesis that has, again, fucked with me and sent what little living I have left into ruin.</p><p>It can be argued that he is just a clueless narcissist and I was very unlucky, his relationship with my only remaining friends resulting in frustrations for me that I did not react to well.</p><p>Yet, one unknown for certain event strikes out, when I was suffering extremely on a birthday, an extreme pain event, and reached out to the only active friend I had remaining on Band, hoping he was not too busy to respond, as he was playing Xbox in a party with that asshole. He started responding, and shortly thereafter I suddenly lost my permission to post in our Band chat, and that asshole was the Band administrator. I panicked, and my world got even worse.</p><p>I devolved very badly since then, and that day was a turning point to when I became suicidal.</p><p>Two days ago, I was having another extreme pain event. Fumbling at my iPad, I reached my friend’s page on my Xbox app, and realized I could ask him to party with me and use the iPad mic and speakers instead of being on a headset through the Xbox (a physical impossibility at the time, stuck laying in bed, the iPad propped on me chest). He answered, and for a few minutes, pain started to subside, or I was being distracted from it.</p><p>Then, THAT asshole, who I have blocked on Xbox, joined the chat party because he saw one existed with his friend in it. This same asshole that has fucked with me time and again. Now, to him, my name was blocked, he assumed my friend was playing with my friend’s wife (someone asshole adores), and he joined the non-private party (my mistake, not using it often at all) of an anonymous user to try to spend time with her.</p><p>It triggered the fuck out of me.</p><p>I did not react well. My relationship with my remaining friend was occasionally rocky, as it’s hard to be friends with an insane, lonely, isolated, person in chronic pain. One aspect has been my complaints about said asshole, and how asshole gets the benefit of the doubt (I was even asked to forget previous wrongs and give him the benefit of the doubt before that Band incident) and I do not. Admittedly, my reactions to things can be unreasonable, though, like here, understandable, I believe.</p><p>I am once again friendless, this time, caused by my reaction to that asshole, once again fucking with me during an extreme pain event. He was excused by my friend because of his innocent mistake (though previously, he had been told to always ask before joining even a non-private party!). I understand him being excused, as in not being punished or my friend being mad at him for it, but the cost to me was so much.</p><p>How am I so unlucky? Why do I have to suffer so much? My friend, our messages sent during the days, is practically the only living I did anymore. Everything else is suffering, my rehab attempts, loneliness, and isolation. All I can do now is feel pain and wait for death.</p>The Wisdom Cowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03234585081632385439noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-356972142644112297.post-26227053476699005052023-02-28T22:59:00.004-08:002023-02-28T22:59:57.114-08:00Another Sleepless Night<p>[song I wrote some 35 years ago. Wish I’d have died back then]</p><p><br /></p><p>Spend my whole driving</p><p>A race that’s never won</p><p>Life is just to long</p><p>To not have any fun</p><p>Another sleepless night</p><p><br /></p><p>I wander through a valley</p><p>I search a mountain top</p><p>Meandering through this world</p><p>The loneliness won’t stop</p><p>Another sleepless night</p><p><br /></p><p>Debating over byways</p><p>Which road there is to take</p><p>In this race without and end line</p><p>It’s my will that’s doomed to break</p><p>Another sleepless night</p>The Wisdom Cowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03234585081632385439noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-356972142644112297.post-13193782349193722762023-02-27T20:59:00.002-08:002023-02-27T20:59:37.889-08:00Start the Countdown<p> It is time to shit or get off the pot.</p><p>Adjustments and agony are at an all time high.</p><p>I am once again friendless. Nothing to help get me through the days. There is only pain.</p><p>Now, begin the countdown. Let insanity reign!</p><p>I shall evolve. I shall unfold my love and become human, become able to rest, to experience life instead of suffer this sensory overload of pain and discomfort.</p><p>I have a snorkel.</p><p>I will adjust in ways I could not before, no longer able to raise my head from the water to breathe.</p><p>It will work. Or I will die. I will push until I can push no more. </p><p>I may go crazy. I may drown. I may drown laughing.</p><p>They say it is a horrifically painful way to die. They don’t know pain.</p><p>This will be the story of me, the occasional genius, the seer of visions, the insanity and loneliness of chronic pain, the hope for relief.</p><p>It is time to get reckless. I have no more will to live. Only a change for the better can save me now.</p><p>Place your bets. Smart money is on a painful death crying out in rage at those that left me alone in agony, likely underwater.</p><p>I wish she would not have been mean to me. I am too weak now, too old. They tried to help, but the frustrations of experiencing ME led to treating me like the lesser human I am, disregarding my pain, dismissive of my special needs, lost compassion regarding my pain and discomfort.</p><p>Did they believe? Never.</p><p>I would have given them everything. They would not listen. I helped them to their greatest joy and they would not trust me afterwards! The hubris! They could not trust or have faith in a broken human. I see paths of how they will fail without me. I tried to show them the path. Her choice.</p><p>He was the most honorable man and friend I would ever know. I miss him already.</p><p>How with this strange trip turn out? Will I evolve? Will I drown and finally know peace? Will the story ever be known? What will William think of his mother, the narcissist.</p><p>My mother was a narcissist. My life has been a horror, a tragedy.</p><p>I shall know peace and release. </p>The Wisdom Cowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03234585081632385439noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-356972142644112297.post-73773614682137713612023-02-27T20:14:00.000-08:002023-02-27T20:14:00.167-08:00A Truth<p> There is a limit to happiness.</p><p>“I couldn’t be happier.” You have said it, perhaps, and were correct at the time.</p><p>There is no limit to pain.</p><p>Tempt this reality by saying, “It can’t get any worse.” I dare you. See what happens.</p><p><br /></p><p>I am a cripple with special needs, on the spectrum, and live in chronic pain, ever changing by the nightmare of hypermobility…</p><p> and they, the best friends I had ever known, unable to endure me any longer, became mean.</p><p>I hope for death, but I am not that lucky.</p>The Wisdom Cowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03234585081632385439noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-356972142644112297.post-63895686291409871552022-09-14T19:52:00.001-07:002022-09-14T19:52:24.583-07:00Going To Try Saying This Every DayI am going to have the best day I can have today.The Wisdom Cowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03234585081632385439noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-356972142644112297.post-26606135011688682922022-09-11T18:11:00.001-07:002022-09-11T18:11:15.435-07:00Attempts To Reconnect<p> Well, with the NFL starting, the habit of talking to my friends made me reach out to them.</p><p>There’s been no responses, but also my contact ability through alternative means has not been blocked. I am disappointed, though it was not expected that either would respond. I do know better then to keep spamming attempts, however.</p><p>I do feel myself potentially getting down. So, I’m preemptively taking an Ativan and remaining positive. It’s pretty nice to not be in the abject misery of the past few weeks. I’ll continue to try building momentum.</p><p>I do wish I knew how they felt. I mean, if their lives are better without me, even when doing well, then, I’d be much better off knowing that so I could move on. But I can’t give up on the idea that we are friends and my breakdowns were just too much for them. That makes me hope they can see an upswing is happening and maybe they would want to be part of it.</p><p>I genuinely believe it would be a big lift to have even limited contact. It’s tough that even mutual friends are all ghosting or blocking me, too. </p><p>The current plan is to let my doctor prescribe a more manageable anti-depressant, like Prosac. The Cymbalta route scared me, and was wrong, at least for now.</p><p>So it goes.</p>The Wisdom Cowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03234585081632385439noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-356972142644112297.post-73665267239186628962022-09-10T13:54:00.003-07:002022-09-10T14:53:40.987-07:00Fighting Failure<p>I’m still feeling pretty horrible, wondering how long it’s going to last and if I’ll suffer “withdrawal” from just one dose. I feel like the drug just messes with you so much, it’s not withdrawal, so much as it’s dealing with major changes to bio-chemistry.</p><p>I was so hopeful yesterday. I told all the boards I’ve been frequenting and reached out to former friends, hoping they would enjoy the positive development.</p><p>Now, I’m fighting to not fall back into despair. Alone again for the rest of the day, it’s so fucking hard to remain positive. I’m far too out of it to try Elden Ring, vision blurry, sweating and dizzy. I wish I were not alone. I feel so insignificant. I wish anyone out there wanted my company.</p><p>The people I love intentionally do not want me around. No one enjoys my company. I hate this so much.</p><p>———</p><p>I think I understand a little more, an aspect of what went wrong with my friends.</p><p>Only people that live in chronic pain or have been traumatized by it understand it. It’s the relentlessness more than the degree of pain. It’s never getting a break. I need distractions. My friends wanted to help, not realizing just their attention on any topic was the help I needed. Instead their efforts to help would upset me, when I would be better just with some company. My frustration would antagonize them, as they are trying to help and I do not recognize it, so focused on just wanting some attention, pushing them away, and making the pattern cycle.</p><p>I wish I could go back and be clearer. I wish I could stop myself from antagonizing them.</p><p>I’ll have to find a different anti-depressant when I recover from this crap. Maybe it will stop me from missing those I love so much.</p><p>———-</p><p>Almost 3pm, I’ll try an Ativan now, far enough removed from my last Vicodin, and leaving room for another Vicodin if in more physical pain tonight. I am suddenly in such an overwhelmed state, crying. It’ll be nice to see if Ativan helps.</p>The Wisdom Cowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03234585081632385439noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-356972142644112297.post-27885108830556054732022-09-10T06:39:00.000-07:002022-09-10T06:39:34.601-07:00Bad Night Not Done - I WANT TO MOVE ON<p> Oh. This is not fun.</p><p>Again, it ain’t that Shingles Vaccine, but this is pretty bad.</p><p>I am wondering if I’m going to have withdrawal from a single dose. Honestly, I don’t think it is a “withdrawal” issue, so much as this medication so alters you, taking it away alters you again.</p><p>The dizziness and movement issues are kinda concerning with limbs that disable from gravity alone. A weird thing, my face was covered in sweat when I woke up. My face? My cheeks were sweating? WTF, right?</p><p>I can understand my doctor seeing a pill advertised as helping pain and depression and pushing it on me, but FUCK!</p><p>Enough of that … I need to endure whatever this thing has in store for me for however long it continues to last. Then, prepare for whatever spaghetti gets thrown at the wall next.</p><p>I was in a pretty good place, pretty positive, preparing myself for this med, and I can embrace that even though the med failed. </p><p>Alright, this is getting difficult … wow, how is this drug okay?</p><p>Almost made it through the post without tears.</p>The Wisdom Cowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03234585081632385439noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-356972142644112297.post-53395625014887565172022-09-10T01:08:00.005-07:002022-09-10T01:08:48.564-07:00No.<p> It’s 1am and Cymbalta has been a bad experience. I’m not gonna use this stuff. No way.</p><p>If I somehow fall asleep and wake up feeling great, maybe, but this is not okay. It’s not Shingles Vaccine side effects, but it’s bad enough to really want it to stop. Dizzy, but a fucked up, weird dizzy, as if sometimes parts of me get hit by more gravity. Nausea, pain, muscle cramps, very messed up balance (I almost fall over often).</p><p>I’ll endure this and figure out what’s next on Monday.</p><p>I really hope this feeling doesn’t last, but I fear it may be a few days. Why do I trust my doctor at all?</p>The Wisdom Cowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03234585081632385439noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-356972142644112297.post-67387055129399363452022-09-09T19:14:00.001-07:002022-09-09T19:14:13.196-07:00Once Upon A Time Called Now! Cymbalta Tonight!<p> Okay. Nervous.</p><p>Cymbalta starts tonight. It’s supposed to be the same time every day, cause it fucks you up if you are late taking it (joy, wtf am I taking!?!?). I figure since my mornings vary so much, bad night can mean leaving for the pool before 5am, but if I am sleeping, actually sleeping, I let myself sleep.</p><p>So, nights it is!</p><p>Taking it at 7:30. So, by what? 7:37 or so, I’m cured, right? :D</p><p>If you read this, send good vibes. I really don’t want to go through side effects he’ll on this drug.</p>The Wisdom Cowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03234585081632385439noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-356972142644112297.post-78773899338093793912022-09-09T09:11:00.005-07:002022-09-09T09:23:24.791-07:00Pool Paranoia<p>Sigh.</p><p>I had a decent day yesterday, before the house turned into an oven around 5, anyways. My swim was not that good, but I was making some progress in getting the wrecked right arm (from the blood draw) more manageable, and in reorganizing the living room, I had disrupted some negativity. I only cried 5-6 times, and none more than a few minutes (sadly, that’s big progress). I was looking forward, and glad today is thought to be the last of this Hell On Earth week.</p><p>The pool was packed when I got there at 6am today. While changing, though, a lane opened up. That made me a little optimistic. Some luck, right?</p><p>Prepping to get in, sitting on the edge, I was surprised by just how hot the pool had gotten, and was even intrigued it could be quite useful today. Two women were sharing the lane next to me, and one was near and approaching just as I had put my feet in. I smiled, and in a friendly tone joked, “This pool has never BEEN so warm!”</p><p>She was looking at me when I spoke, in the eyes, but then looked away, no expression at all, totally ignoring me. She turned at the wall, as the woman she shared the lane with was trailing by maybe 15 feet. By how that woman, shared an eyeroll with the one that just ignored me, it seemed pretty obvious she intentionally ignored me.</p><p>The next 1:45 minutes was dominated by thoughts of my reputation in the pool, because of how I walk and dislocate all the time, and because of the wellness check when two policemen asked from the pool and interviewed me in the view of the entire club, breakdowns, subluxations, and all.</p><p>Even if it had nothing to do with the police visit, this did not used to happen when I was JUST a physical oddity. Am I doomed to be paranoid and never return to a relax state at the pool? Do I need to never even try to talk to anyone? [fuck, first cry of day starting] Am I really such an embarrassment no one will even exchange pleasantries? How the fuck am I ever going to make any new friends? </p><p>———</p><p>I am compelled to write the following, in case former friends do actually come and read, again. If any of you, W, C, or A, do come and look, it means you don’t hate me completely, I hope. I mean, I would think it means you remain concerned. I ask you to think about why you ghosted me, which I believe was also in part trying to help, yes? Believing I needed to seek new help and remaining engaged was doing more harm than good, yes? I’m not disregarding the negative and/or hateful/mean things I wrote. I just hope time can help forgive things said you must know came from a place of fear and despair.</p><p>I am asking you to consider whether any limited contact with express boundaries would be possible moving forward. I am getting some help, but I am also so stymied by such loneliness. [second cry starting, lol] I am trying. I am having some successes. Some hurdles just seem so high, and I could really use a friend. Just knowing someone still cares instead of hoping it is the case.</p><p>I should be starting Cymbalta in the next day or so, and it is supposed to start taking effect within a few days to a week or so. It would be VERY helpful, IMO, to have some positive reenforcement, some positive interactions, while the drug starts to take effect and alter mood. I do not want to establish isolation [3rd, sigh] with the drug lessening pain and negative moods (presuming it works). I really do not want to have shitshows like today’s pool interaction making me even more prone to isolation.</p><p>Please consider it.</p><p>———</p><p>There was some minor progress in the unwinding/unfolding department near the very end of the swim. Not up for writing about it, though, anymore. It was not significant enough to create any meditations or focuses for the future, anyways.</p><p>I do wonder if Cymbalta could end up aiding my swimming, as I did associate finally letting go of some anxiety/stress after 1.5 hours when the progress happened. I do worry about becoming numb to some pains that actually help me find where I need to move, but it may not be all negative. Just saying, while I am nervous as hell about the new med, I do have some hopes it could help and can imagine possible paths.</p><p>So it goes.</p><p>Alright, last long as fuck insane temperature day, hopefully. Should reach 110. House should suck again, at least until after midnight. It’ll be hilarious, I should think, when the projected 95 degree heat of Saturday feels cool.</p><p>I just hope they remember to turn the heat for the pool back on in a day or two. I can totally see the pool end up too cold by Tuesday. I need to remember to say something.</p><p>———</p><p>Back to Elden Ring … so difficult to figure out what I still have to do on my best character. Part of me is tempted to start anew, but I should really try finishing the game once first, lol. I’ll never have the patience to make a character as strong as my current one. I’m aiming at finishing as a goal. Wow, look at me and the rampant positivity! :’D</p>The Wisdom Cowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03234585081632385439noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-356972142644112297.post-89741977442488230912022-09-08T18:52:00.000-07:002022-09-08T18:52:00.582-07:00Changing My Living Space<p>I needed something to change. So, I rearranged the living room, and hooked up the xBox there, out of my bedroom.</p><p>I like the layout. I started playing Elden Ring again, and lasted about 1.5 hours, stopping before the hands bothered me much (though they started feeling sore).</p><p>Got the message from my doctor starting my Cymbalta usage. It’s got me nervous. I swear, everything my doc does hurts me. The Shingles Vaccine was torture, and the blood draw yesterday still has my arm a bit tweaked. So, I see so many people talking about horrific Cymbalta side effects, I’m getting anxious.</p><p>This has me missing my friends, lol. Damn Xbox. The connection is so much better than my shit “smart” tv, I want to keep using it, but damn. I need to accept that they are not in my life and I am not in theirs.</p><p>Loneliness suck. I have the first NFL game on and, of course, miss talking NFL with them.</p><p>I hope Cymbalta numbs my brain and makes me not give a shit about anyone or anything. I’ve read a few people “complain” of that. I hate the idea of never loving or feeling loved again, though. </p><p>Thank God I have Big Pharma as a friend! </p><p>———</p><p>Still two more hellish nights to get through. The house is okay until around 5pm, then it’s too hot for the AC to even dent, and too hot to open windows until after midnight.</p><p>Will I ever sleep again? Will I ever be happy? Hell, will I ever just be okay? Content? Will I ever have a single friend again?</p><p>———</p><p>Reddit has helped and hurt. It hurts when others’ experiences remind me of things like how I have always struggled to have friends, that people that call me a friend never invited me or involve me in things. It’s a common theme on the mental health thread, people that put in effort, that help others, that are told they are appreciated, yet it doesn’t go the other way.</p><p>It’s depressing to realize that was childhood through now. No, until Covid. I would not say the friends I made online would go out of their way to invite me in things, but I did feel accepted sometimes, and I kept busy. I had problems with many, too, though.</p><p>Will it be better if I go numb? I mean, I would be crying all the time. But if I don’t care, am I worthy of friendship? Will I care if I do not make new ones? Will I care if my old friends never forgive me?</p><p>I think I’ll just pass through my days on auto-pilot until I die. But my friend Big Pharma will be there for me, right?</p><p>I want to not be miserable, but I would like to be happy again. Fuck. Loneliness fucks with me too much.</p>The Wisdom Cowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03234585081632385439noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-356972142644112297.post-50673528059123164522022-09-07T09:03:00.000-07:002022-09-07T09:03:00.038-07:00Long Day Coming<p> I got a short swim in at 5am.</p><p>Then, I went to the lab for a blood draw and urine test. I am phobic of needles and blood draws. I’m cringing up writing about it. I think it may be related to my arm being out of whack. I still cannot straighten it out. The tendons seem wrong and there is swelling. The shoulder is out of place as well.</p><p>I’m in a decent amount of pain. </p><p>And the house stinks, though not as bad as the last time, when Nymeria ate part of a skunk. It’s burning my eyes still, and my nose is clogging up. The albuterol from earlier is still working, at least. I am not wheezing.</p><p>It’s already 90 degrees out. I had thoughts of going back to the pool to try to relax this arm and my neck and head (so tense still!), but I don’t want to risk getting too hot. Plus, I did just leak four veils of blood. Probably not the best time for a still ill feeling idiot to go swim.</p><p>But oh, today will be a long one. </p><p>Instead of the wife and daughter getting home around 5-6, they won’t be home until after midnight. There is a film premiere of My So Called High School Rank, about Ranked! A Musical, and they won’t be home until 1-2am, most likely.</p><p>Not the best of days to be friendless and alone.</p>The Wisdom Cowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03234585081632385439noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-356972142644112297.post-23237281082815114152022-09-07T00:55:00.004-07:002022-09-07T02:13:25.802-07:00Oh, God, No!<p> The dogs were barking and I let them out.</p><p>Nymeria was skunked again.</p><p>It’s almost 1am and still 85 degrees.</p><p>It’s going to be over 110 the next three days.</p><p>My eyes are burning and it’s unbearably hot still in the house, the smell is overwhelming.</p><p>This is too much. Fuck this world.</p><p><br /></p><p>Almost 2am now. I needed albuterol to help me breathe.</p><p>I’m hiding from the smell in the bathroom, laying on the floor, turning on the shower every few minutes to clean the air a bit. My nose is shut and breathing is difficult.</p><p>It is cooler here, naked and wet on the bathroom floor. It’s probably 82 degrees or so. One nostril is starting to open, hopefully.</p>The Wisdom Cowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03234585081632385439noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-356972142644112297.post-47853879940260565662022-09-06T08:54:00.002-07:002022-09-06T08:54:44.735-07:00Ominous Feeling<p>It is supposed to reach 115 here today. I’m having concerns. Still not feeling well at all from yesterday, getting to hot while not doing well to begin with.</p><p>I only swam for 40 minutes or so. I could feel it getting really hot, really quick, and thought I should ride home before it takes too much effort.</p><p>It was barely 8:30am and you could really feel the heat off the sun. The ride home was, noticeably wrong. The air was wrong. It was kinda ominous.</p><p>All of the plants were slightly wilting, as if none of them had gotten enough sleep and the sun was waking them up too soon and all were reluctant to face the day.</p><p>The Canadian Geese that usually hoard a soccer field were all up the side of the hill, nearer the path than I had ever seen them. They seemed off, as if confused why their spot did not feel like their spot.</p><p>Was I noticing real differences because of this insane, outside the norm, heat? Or am I carrying ominous feelings and projecting?</p><p>If we get a power outage … it’s gonna be bad. I’m not sure I make it through today if the house is just like yesterday, and it’s likely to be a few degrees hotter. The garage is already an oven, making my bedroom already warmer close to the garage side wall. It’s crazy.</p><p>I’m not exactly scared. I am lonely, though.</p><p>It certainly would be my world ending in a whimper.</p>The Wisdom Cowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03234585081632385439noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-356972142644112297.post-8368699311366304482022-09-05T19:45:00.004-07:002022-09-05T19:45:44.354-07:00OMFG It’s Too Hot!<p> It’s almost 8pm and still 105 outside. The house is too hot for me. It’s been a very, very bad day.</p><p>I do not think I’ll be able to sleep. I have a wet towel on my head, which has yet to stop hurting today. I have an ice bag, too, which I switch with the towel.</p><p>Overnight low is 80. The house is not going to cool off. My bedroom gets minimal AC, and one wall is adjacent to the garage, which is probably around 120 degrees.</p><p>This is gonna be bad.</p><p>Tomorrow is supposed to reach 115. That’s the hottest I’ll have ever been in, and in this house, it may kill me. I feel very I’ll already and have not slept in days. This migraine is overwhelming. It almost feels like the Shingles Vaccine is still kicking my ass.</p><p>I’ve been incapable of caring for myself today. If tomorrow is worse, as expected, I’m in trouble.</p><p>This house may kill me after all. </p>The Wisdom Cowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03234585081632385439noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-356972142644112297.post-85705913313288684312022-09-05T15:09:00.003-07:002022-09-05T15:09:31.600-07:00Can’t Escape Torment<p>My head is in too much pain today and nothing is working.</p><p>It’s times like this, alone in the house, laying in bed, can’t put my glasses on because my head hurts so much, I want to reach out to a friend, but there are none. I can’t do this.</p><p>I can never make amends. I will never be worth their time or effort.</p><p>I am a worthless mass of pain. I should never have tried to be a friend. I am so heartbroken. I cannot imagine how much I must have hurt them. I, WE, reached out to people we hated when they were far less miserable than I am now. The amount of loathing they must have for me, I do not understand.</p><p>——</p><p>To my friends, should you read this …</p><p>I am not strong enough to do this alone. I am sorry. I wish you both could see me. I daydream of getting on a plane, of enduring the pain it would entail, just to be able to apologize in person. I want you to see my eyes, my facial expressions, hear my voice inflections. I want you to know how much I love you both and regret putting such pressure on you. I want you both to KNOW how highly I think of you.</p><p>I am in a Catch-22. I am not going to get better without your support, and I cannot ask for your support until I am better. It all got too out of hand.</p><p>I wonder if we had met without a Covid shut down. I was doing so well in my rehabilitation before everything went to shit.</p><p>I have not had fun in over a year. I tried warning you both how much this new house exacerbates my suffering. I thought I was asking you for help, but I was putting pressure on you, yes? I’m sorry I was not strong enough.</p><p>I am giving up. I cannot endure pain like this hidden away from everyone. I won’t.</p><p>If Cymbalta doesn’t help substantially, I am done. This is torture.</p><p>I so would have liked to watch your journey as parents. It pains me greatly, all I have missed already. I hope you both know how beautiful you are. You’ll have such a journey. I wish I had been a better friend. I wish I did not drive you both away. I am a broken fuckup. </p><p>Perhaps I’ll finally be able to let go of you both in spirit finally, when I let go of my body. :’)</p>The Wisdom Cowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03234585081632385439noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-356972142644112297.post-17901939084865083472022-09-04T18:09:00.001-07:002022-09-04T18:09:49.239-07:00Why I’m Miserable<p> I had a lonely childhood.</p><p>I’ve had very few friends. I am not in touch with anyone from before moving to Sacramento over 20 years ago, and I have none here now save one of my wife’s co-workers whom I could call in an emergency.</p><p>Since I was very young, I would get a lot out of nature. I would go for walks. When older, bike rides.</p><p>I was rarely happy, but I could view nature and feel some peace.</p><p>I used to be able to see the beauty of nearly anything in nature. I would soak it up.</p><p>I learned I needed to soak up all the good that I could in order to get by. It was easy when I lived in the Bay Area. There were so many beautiful views. I can remember many, not picture them (aphanatasia), but I remember them.</p><p>I realize this used to be how I dealt with sadness. I used to go for some very long walks.</p><p>Sacramento does have some decent views, some beauty, but for the most part, it’s a flood plain, a miserable place to decide to build a city. I was very upset to move here. I did explore some, before my body went to shit, the rivers and open spaces, the dog parks.</p><p>Our yard in West Sacramento had a view of the deep water canal and some open space. We had several trees and open views. That’s gone now, too, here in this little box surrounded by neighbor’s 2 story houses. I can’t stand it.</p><p>The park on the way to the pool is nice. I really need to start trying to walk there when the weather allows. Wrong week for that right now, lol. 106 degrees, today! Expecting 113 degrees for the next two days! </p><p>My wife chose to apply for a job here without asking me first. That will haunt me until the grave.</p><p>In more recent years, the beauty was more difficult to find. I would even look at roadkill, and see the life that was, and try to soak in the beauty of what had been. That is how low I was, how little joy was in my life when Lizzie started going to school, so many days alone, for years.</p><p>The two friends I met during Covid closures, my best friends ever, were the first time I found beauty in others. I loved them both. I loved their marriage. I enjoyed so much about them that I felt better, and I enjoyed who I was when I was with either of them. It was so incredible.</p><p>And while I am upset they are gone, the real sadness I face is of lost opportunity.</p><p>I am 51 and my health is deteriorating so much more every year. I am running out of time.</p><p>I do not have access to the nature I have enjoyed all my life, nor the friendships that showed me even greater beauty. And I am running out of time.</p><p>More time wasted. I have wasted so much of my life already.</p><p>This is the truest reason for my misery and the tears I cannot stop making. I know I am running out of time and I have nothing to enjoy while it slips through my fingers.</p><p>I sit in a room with no view and listen to the air conditioning. I truly hate it here, in this house, in this city. </p><p>I remember when we first moved here, and people tried to argue it was wonderful to be a 2 hour drive to the mountains or a 2 hour drive to the ocean. “You can do whatever you want!” they said.</p><p>No. I can’t. Spending time in nature is now outside my control. Now, even spending time with friends is beyond my control.</p>The Wisdom Cowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03234585081632385439noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-356972142644112297.post-2074633850013796392022-09-04T10:03:00.004-07:002022-09-04T16:59:07.587-07:00Resisting Urges<p>I’m having a beast of a time resisting the urge to reach out to my … best friends. I can’t help but think of them that way, still, and maybe that’s part of the problem. I mean, I don’t believe they stopped caring, but I imagine it is more probable than not that they don’t think of me as a friend anymore.</p><p>Only, I can’t stop crying, lol. It’s everything, but they were such a valued relationship.</p><p>I have unplugged my XBox for a few weeks now (plugged in to send what I thought was important messages last week, only for my doctor to not give a shit) and deleted the App. It helps. I still grab the iPad to check for messages and when I have one I momentarily want to send before remembering, but at least I am not spending the entire day on the XBox and it’s apps, where it was habit to check what friends were playing.</p><p>Of course, I’m blocked by the “friends” I’d want to reach out to. So, I guess it would not scratch that itch anyways.</p><p>I think the goal for the day has to be to keep the XBox off. I have to endure the rest of today (only 10am, fuck) and get to Monday. I wish I did not miss them so badly. [tears again. Lol]</p><p>I really did collapse back into missing them as if they just left since my Shingles Vaccine delirium. I’m not going to say I was doing good, but I had made some progress and was definitely crying a lot less than since it. I think I got through so many really bad stints of pain with them in mind the last two years. Even when they could not respond, I felt connected to them.</p><p>I could really feel the void left behind during that post vaccine shitshow. Starting over fucking sucks!</p><p>I think I am too embarrassed to get back on the Xbox, too. So many had ghosted me, I was definitely spoken of, at least between those I tried to reach out to. I feel so pathetic, an old fool. Odds are no one checks to see if I have returned, and I’ll likely never even be thought of again by most. I was pretty insignificant.</p><p>I wish the NFL started today. That’d be watchable tv, at least. Yet, I’ll be bummed all season, again, not getting into any fantasy leagues with friends again. So it goes.</p><p>Guess I’ll try more Breathe of the Wild on Switch. Not liking it too much. I think I would like Craftopia much more if it did not glitch so much, another single player (for me, lol) game. It’ll get me through an hour, maybe.</p><p>I find it so insane that a little more than 2 years ago, I was at an incredible low point. It was unfathomable that things could get much worse. This isolation is much worse.</p><p>Okay … one hour at a time.</p><p><br /></p><p>Edit - made it to 5pm. Woohooo! Only needed to get through 40 or so urges and a couple crying bouts, lol. I’m pathetic.</p>The Wisdom Cowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03234585081632385439noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-356972142644112297.post-38609534602022814192022-09-04T04:37:00.002-07:002022-09-04T04:43:11.620-07:00Cymbalta Feedback Scaring Me<p>I got a lot of feedback on Reddit and I am freaking out a little. Brain zaps? Harsh withdrawal? Just what is this stuff?</p><p>There are positive reviews, too, and I get that I pretty much have to try, but fuck I hate feeling coerced into this. Doctors always fucking hurt me, as seen by the last week thanks to that Shingles Vaccine. I just have a feeling of dread that I am going to be hurt more.</p><p>I am really tired of everything always getting worse and worse, and a common theme from doctors is he doesn’t have a clue what is wrong with me (doesn’t listen) and throws spaghetti at the wall with the things he’s been promoted to use. I tend to pay.</p><p>I’m sacred. I can’t say I want to do this.</p><p>Many have had help from it for “nerve pain,” whatever the fuck that means. I’d feel more confident if I had that diagnosis. I’d feel better if anyone fucking understood what wrong with me before trying to shoehorn me with other treatments.</p><p>I’m not going to have any support when this goes badly. </p><p>Fuck. Here comes another breakdown morning before my day even gets started. I can’t keep doing this.</p><p>Time to sit in the hot tub for a few hours, stifling tears and moans, because I’ll be right under all my neighbor’s open windows with this heat wave going. Two hours to kill before the pool opens.</p><p>I guess this is my life now.</p>The Wisdom Cowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03234585081632385439noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-356972142644112297.post-50041617396593597772022-09-03T14:04:00.001-07:002022-09-03T14:06:29.684-07:00No Other Options<p> I do not feel I have any other options than to submit to my doctor in wanting to give me Cymbalta.</p><p>I do not trust it. I am weary of any med that has had way too many commercials pushing it. If it was good and worked, doctors would see the evidence and prescribe it without needing to have people convinced to ask for it through commercials!</p><p>Still. I have no doubt I kill myself soon on this present course, friendless and in pain, constantly alone.</p><p>I fear it will fuck up my unwinding. This has always been my fear. I’ll ignore some physical pains, lose the sensations that help guide the needed unfolding. I’ll have to be mindful for other cues.</p><p>I also do not know yet what meds my doctor may make me quit to prevent issues, … or maybe I’ll just be permanently pickled.</p><p>This is me giving up on ever getting better. I will never regain my balance. I will never unfold my love.</p><p>I truly believe fear has stayed my hand at suicide.</p><p>I believe first breakdown while on Cymbalta likely results in killing myself.</p><p>At least it will be over.</p>The Wisdom Cowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03234585081632385439noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-356972142644112297.post-42663377724044383702022-09-03T11:46:00.000-07:002022-09-03T11:46:02.657-07:00AAAAaaaauuuuuggggghhhh!<p>I miss my friends too much.</p><p>It’s a nightmarish situation. I would complain too much about my pains to them, but I did also chat a lot. Now, having driven them off, I have so much extra time and I am in more pain.</p><p>I’ve been trying to use Reddit, chronic pain and mental health threads, reading a lot and commenting when I feel I relate or can help. I post once in a while, but it is not very useful other than a time kill.</p><p>I’m noticing that not having them to chat with at all, just “hellos” and jokes and headlines and such, I am missing such a crucial part of how I managed to endure. Chatting with them was a mindset, like having them with me. I always liked to joke and make them laugh, so I’d be looking towards the funny side of everything, hoping to share. I don’t look at the positive or funny side of anything.</p><p>My mornings all start so badly now, too.</p><p>They are 2 hours ahead of me, and both early risers. My nights are horrific, constant dislocations and little sleep, often near sleepless. I could greet and start joking and talking with them sometimes at 4am, even 3am. Just a little banter would help end the night’s agony and often steer me towards a positive start to the day.</p><p>It snowballs now. Pain cascades and I have nowhere to turn all night, only to realize they are likely awake at some point, active and living a beautiful life, and they don’t want me anywhere near it. My despair causes breakdowns, and I leave for the pool and my morning swim with bloodshot teary eyes. I start the day at the bottom and it’s hours and hours of loneliness and pain to follow. So few distractions.</p><p>I wonder if I was so horrible they don’t even miss me in any form. Was any banter enjoyed? Am I missed in any way? Did I so overwhelm any good feelings toward me that I really am a monster?</p><p>I hope they are happy. I love them. I wish they missed me enough to want my company, the good me, anyways, or consider giving me a chance again, but I don’t think that’s going to happen. They have the perfect new chapter of life to move forward and be happy. Truly happy. Yes, I wanted to be part of that life, but …</p><p>The first half of this post shows I am too much effort. They suffered too much of my misery. When I hit rock bottom (what WAS the bottom, lol), I was WAY too much for them to handle, and I vented at my life, but hurt them in my confused idiocy and blame. I cannot imagine myself ever worth their attention again. Why should they risk it? I have Ativan now to take when I begin an anxiety based cascading collapse of pain, and that would have been enough before. </p><p>But that was before, before hurting them and sinking even lower … to THIS.</p><p>How do I accept so much more time and pain? How do I possibly find any joy again, let alone casual friendships? I am an abomination, doomed to spiral further and further into misery and pain. Fuck.</p>The Wisdom Cowhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03234585081632385439noreply@blogger.com0