Sometimes It Snows In April

Sad and lonely, managed to sit at the piano and do this.  Hands barley working.  Gaming hurts.  Guitar hurts.  Piano … simple chords are about it.

It did help to disconnect the Xbox.  I’m wondering if I need to hide my iPad and give up on the internet and have no forms of communication around me.  No reminders.

I should just limp into the woods and see how long I can last.

Instead, I sit at the piano or in front of a tv and hurt and cry feel so isolated.  It’s like I’m in solitary confinement.  Do I really deserve my life to be this shitty?

https://www.dropbox.com/s/gtbigy4tt1v1adx/Sometimes%20It%20Snows%20In%20April.m4a?dl=0

All Consuming Loneliness

Loneliness is such a catalyst for my pain. It’s sending me in cycles of such despair.

I miss my friends physically. Knowing them, carrying them with me as I experienced life, was so special.  It gave me comfort.

I am devoid of comforts, now.  It’s like being cast into a void.  There is nothing in every direction.  Just me and pain.

I keep swimming.  I keep playing music when I can.  I play a little bit of videogames when my wrists allow.  The tv is on, but I can’t pay attention for long.  I don’t care about it.

I cared about my friendships.  I knew I was lucky to have them.

I feel like I failed to help them cope with me.  I should have given them a safe word or something.  “You say this, and it means I am overwhelming you and need to step back for a while.”  If they could have been comfortable with pushing me away, but letting me know how long they thought they needed, I could have done it so easily, I think.  I mean, as long as it wasn’t weeks or months.

Am I impossible to befriend?  

I’m in such pain, and every source notes how much friendships help lower chronic pain.  Maybe we need training, to be careful not to become addicted.  They were so much more wonderful than any pain killer.  I liked myself when they interacted with me.  My reality was so much better with them in it.

How can I possibly get to a lesser pain level now?  They are gone and all is worse.  I’m incapable of meeting anyone new, and if I did, I’m so shitty who would really want to get to know me and spend time with me?  I’m so fucked.

Self Loathing with the Weekend

The weekend hits and I feel spikes of despair and longing, missing my failed friendships.

It’s so hard to endure pain in isolation.  I feel no connections to anyone, as if I might as well not exist.

I find myself repeating, “I hate my life,” to the tune of Pinocchio’s I Got No Strings.  Fitting, having no connections anymore.  Sing it with me, everybody!  

I hate my life

I hate my life

I hate my life

I hate my life

I hate life

I hate my life

I fucking hate my life

For Me To Look Back On, Hopefully

I had lost most of the friends I spent time with that I had met in Xbox games. I let a few know I was not handling things well, and would disconnect my Xbox.  I let them know other ways to check in with me should any want to in the future.

I’m losing it.  It’s hard enough to exist with all my pains, losing all friends … I’m bottoming out.

——-

I was having a dream where I was sitting on the floor crying about the stuff I’ve been breaking down about for weeks.  I felt someone tough my shoulder.  I turned and a woman was sitting in a chair beside me, smiling, and she was gently touching my shoulder, slightly gliding a little down my arm.  I was focused on her smile, and I felt connected to someone for the first time in a very long time.  I felt like tension was releasing.

Then, I was awoken by the sound of a text.  Only one person would be texting, and my heart leapt, thinking maybe I was to be forgiven for words said while lashing out in despair and pain and frustration, words I did not mean but were my fears.

It was him, but informing me to stop trying to send any information his way through anyone (no one responding to me for days, I had no idea if anything had even been looked at by anyone).  I did appreciate it, in that I would have stopped earlier had anyone responded to me.  Yet, the way it conflicted with that moment I had been awoken from …

I don’t know.  I am isolated and in pain for most of the day.  Time goes very slow.  Nights are worse.  Sleep is so rare.  I do not think this will end well for me, but I am trying.

I have not given up, yet.  Some day, no more posts will likely mean I have.

So Lost

It has been less than 24 hours since I lost my only remaining friend that I communicated with any regularity.

The strangest thing is to have no reason to check my iPad anymore.  There is no reason to look at my Xbox App to see if he is awake and on line or if he has left me a message.  There is no reason to check for emails.

Before making actual friends through the Xbox, the only people I interacted with on line were people on a book review website, where a new comment would exist every few hours or days, or when I would post regularly on an old SF Giants site that does not even exist anymore (neither do the Giants, to me, anyways, since using the DH).

I feel so empty, so worthless, so lost.

I was no longer living, really, when I met them.  The 20 years since moving to Sacramento and becoming a friendless invalid had turned me into such a shell of a human being.  Making friends was the most wonderful thing.  I was suddenly more than a bag of pain that burdened my family.  I had a reason to wake up other than to try to stop the pain of dislocations.

I had people I loved to see how they were.  People to try to make laugh.  People to share existence with.

It’s gone now.

I am in more pain than ever physically.  I am alone, laying in an out of the way bedroom, waiting to die.

I stare at the knife by my bedside, but I lack the nerve.  I hold the plastic bag and think that will leave less of a mess.  Maybe I’ll even lay down a layer of plastic to help contain the mess of my bowels.  There is no reason to make things worse on those that will clean up my body.  I’ve been such a burden for so long as it is.

I am in far too much pain to be able to try to make new friends.  I can not think very well.  I definitely do not want to have to try and explain the shitshow that is my life to anyone new.

I do not know that I can bear going on without friends.  I have no value at all to anyone.  I have no reason to endure the agony every moment brings me trapped in this body.

I cannot go back to the person I was.  I hurt so much more.  I had some real world acquaintances, but moved to a new area a year ago, losing the people I had known in the pool I frequented.  I know no one here.

I am alone and I cannot justify continuing this anymore.

Goodbye.

Twisted

 I’m not well.  Unfolding had contorted me into uncomfortable twists.  I cannot maintain positions easing strain and/or pressure.  My abdomen and hips are proving difficult.  My shoulders and sides are a wreck.  Whatever I am trying to accomplish, I fear, is far more fucked up that I ever dreamed in my worst nightmare.

I am choking sometimes, my throat folding from muscle memory and twists.  My stomach, beneath, wants to vomit whenever the choking is unfolded, as if I am going to “pop” a la Neo.   Shoulders are out of position to a degree that my sides are wrong, one very buckled while the other … indescribable, maybe cramped, too much smushed together, but some sections are so loose.

Hands are a mess.  Left index finger is very bad.  Pain.  Knuckles swell.  Slightest wrong movement or bump dislocates.  Right thumb is somehow related to forearm and wrist.

All sometimes makes sense, but separately, never all together.  Focus on any one and things cramp, cascading pain and exponentially complicated issues.

I get incredible pressure in my head.  My neck has issues, kinks and cricks.  

I worry the new toy, electric pulses, does too much strengthening for locations.  I think the right spots could produces incredible progress coupled with my swimming.  The wrong spots, with me unable to know how to position myself … makes me anxious about torturous pain like the head pain of this afternoon.

The scariest is something in my head/face, cheeks/eyes, jaw.  There are shifts.  There is pressure sometimes.  Such pressure.  Vision goes fuzzy, slight tremors, maybe.  I go go cross eyed and produce “double vision” (camera one and two not aligned), and I am fairly certain muscle memory forces vision correctness at the cost of strain and incorrect alignment.  Always such pain.

I worry this is too ingrained or muscle memories and kinks in the neck and head to be corrected, and I will continue to experience rather horrific head pain and discomfort for extended periods.  There is no alternative but to continue, but I fear I developed from childhood in ways which will not correct themselves by unfolding.

Into Unknowns

It is like the moment when your stomach lurches and reverses field, when the muscles create a wave of motion in reverse and you vomit.

That is the change I seek in muscles, too many to identify.  In this sense, I am physically nauseous, all the time, often in pain.

I don’t know what is happening, if I am near a success, or if I am near a bad end.

I am so tired.  It has been so long, this unfolding.

I face this alone, and my only hope is that the habits I spent years to establish, how I seek folds and reverse them, will be enough.  

I have nothing left.  I have no will anymore.  I have nothing.