I'm Going Crazy

OWWWWWWWWW.

+Yaaaaaaaaaaawn.

^Pain and fatigue. That is all my life is.

I missed a doctor's appointment this morning because I just could not make myself be awake for it. I'd care more if I thought there was any chance my doctor would have gotten me some painkillers but all I can think is 'At least I didn't hurt myself walking down there.'

When I DID wake up the first thing I did was read news and blogs and catch up on current politics, as I do most days. Then, as I do most days, I cried and settled into a slump of depression and was unable to do anything for hours.

My mental health can't take knowing what the government's doing, but I can't bear to NOT know. I don't want it just sprung on me all at once later, but the constant barrage of assaults on equality and justice are slowly eroding my sanity.

Unintelligible Screaming

I've not really gone into much detail about The Mother on this blog as, well, thinking about it all invariably makes me cry. All I'm going to say is that she was verbally, emotionally, neglectively (is that even a word?) and even occasionally physically abusive. And neither me nor Sister have spoken to her in a good few years. No more details. Just yet, anyhow.

Aaaaanyway. In trying to find out things about our EDS, my sister decided to email her asking for our medical records and asking about our childhood milestones. Being polite, but formal, and in no way friendly or inviting her to suddenly start bombarding us with attempts at communication. She copied me in on the email, of course, and The Mother just hits reply to all. She always has done.

She sends us quite a few emails of inane, confusing, trying to get us to play into psychological games, mess with our heads kind of nonsense. Amongst all of that crap there was a very long email consisting of chilhood milestones and anecdotes. She touched on a few points that might be interesting so Sister replied and asked her some more about them. Her response, for some reason, broke down my defences of avoiding her games and made me cry. I should have just deleted the damn thing as soon as it appeared in my inbox, as Rambo told me to.

"You seem overly concerned about normal behaviour in childhood. Well statistics show that normal children have unhealthy diets and sedentary lifestyles. They are obese and don't like to run because their slack muscles aren't used to it. Your childhood was normal, if there had been a serious genetic problem someone would have noticed, you passed all your development checks. You have been an adult for a long time now. It's time that you faced up to certain facts and took responsibility for the choices you have made.

Perhaps you need some form of professional help to uncover the source of all this negative energy which is poisoning your life. There are plenty of self help books and support groups you could join.

You can't change your past. Shoulda, Woulda, Coulda little girl. You have to play the hand life dealt you. No take backs ok? All you can do is change how you feel about things. That may take some time, quiet reflection and support. When you are ready to learn the right teacher will appear."

And this was followed up with various links and nonsense about 'Moon Meditation' and 'the Power of Emotions'.

I just...I mean...we've both been displaying symptoms of this since birth, that should have been picked up on. I mean, they really, really should have. I would be horrified at a mother seeing the kind of things in her children that she did and not thinking anything of it. But then, I'm horrified at a lot of the things she did.

But anyway, the thing that made me cry (I think. I dunno, I cry at a lot of things) was that I just have an honest-to-God Phobia about people thinking I'm a fraud, now. Because of all of that nonsense. It sets me off on panic attacks that...well, to be honest, seem to be quite like autistic meltdowns in nature. I lose my ability to communicate, I burst into tears, my cognitive functions go slightly screwy in that odd way I have of layers of sound becoming overwhelming and I close my eyes and cover my ears to cut off as much sensory input as possible. If I'm alone or otherwise think I can get away with it - I scream my fucking head off.

I'm just...I'm mad at her. For not even understanding what she's doing to me. What she's done to me. She still sees herself as the angelic victim in all of this and can't understand how the things that she did were wrong.

I'm not going to tell you what things, but believe me, they were wrong. If any kind of social worker knew about them, we'd've been out of there in a heartbeat. God I wish I'd known about social workers when I was younger, or that this kind of shit was NOT normal.

I just needed to vent. Sorry guys.

Dazed and Confused

Everything fucking hurts and I'm sitting here bawling and Moxie is looking at me so confused and apologetic but it's not her fault I'm hurting - she doesn't know how fragile I am.

And I'm so confused and brain-fogged that I keep not being able to remember when I last fed her and I have the sneaking suspicion that the reason she has hiccups and is retching right now is because she's tricked me into giving her two dinners.

And I keep having odd chest problems and not being able to breathe properly and making such loud fricking noises trying to suck in breath that Moxie for some reason thinks I'm playing a game with her and starts trying to attack me - WHILST I CAN'T BREATHE.

And my POTS is still flaring and I keep nearly fainting with all of the jumping up and leaning down to grab the Moxie when she's doing something she shouldn't.

Once again, I CANNOT FUCKING DEAL WITH THIS ALONE.

EDIT: Oh, and I still haven't written my Screamprompt and I'm running severely low on time but Moxie can't leave me the fuck alone long enough for me to do anything about it. I normally hide upstairs for hours when I want to write but I don't want to leave Moxie alone for that long.

I <3 Raspberry

I got a Tesco delivery earlier. I booked it for when Rambo went away to ensure that I had LOTS of ready-meals and easy-food around to sustain me whilst he was gone. I normally only keep a few in the house as a last resort but then I'm normally alright to cook...but then I normally have other people to help out with crazy psycho energetic puppy and other housework. I am so dead on my feet now.

Anyway, I got some comfort food in as well as I figured I would need it, and the damn people decided to substitute my raspberry sorbet for lemon. Who the fuck wants lemon sorbet? It's sour and horrible and most importantly - NOT RASPBERRY. I am sulking. Waa.

Also, Rambo called me about an hour ago to check how I was doing and I wanted to scream at him that I'm so not handling this very well and tell him about the subluxed rib and the psycho puppy and all the letters that I don't know how to deal with but I didn't. There's nothing he can do about it except come home early and I really don't want him to do that; he's visiting family in Derby because his brother's coming home for a week. His brother's been travelling the world for the last couple of years, living in Australia for the last year, and is only back for a week. He needs to see him.

I don't want him to come home early, and I don't want him to worry about me any more than he has to - there's nothing he can do about it. But I feel like I'm lying to him when he's asking me if I'm alright and if I'm sure I can cope without him and if I'm really alright and not just saying that and I say yes to all of the above. :/

Oshit

So, turns out Scouser's not coming as she forgot she had other plans that she'd already put deposits on. I am now officially alone. Until Thursday at least.

I am so fucking terrified that I have been in tears since Rambo left. I can't take care of myself, let alone Moxie as well.

I'm exhausted. I've not slept and I can barely move. POTS is flaring like mad and I've been coughing and sneezing for the last couple days so I figure I've got a cold (and a fever that's flaring my POTS.)

To top it all off, I just got letters through the mail saying:

1. Housing Benefit won't give me any more money until I send them the letter stating my ESA has ended. I never got the damn letter because ESA fails at their own bureaucracy and the only way I found out it had stopped was by phoning them to ask where the fuck my money was.

2. A new council tax bill for July-March stating I owe them £710, no mention of my Council Tax Benefit.

3. A letter from the estate agents saying they're going to be doing an inspection on Wednesday. When the house will be in a right fucking state because there is no way I can clean it and look after me and the dog - and if there's ridiculous amounts of puppy-related mess they may well change their minds about me being allowed a dog.

4. Finally got my new Choose & Book letter and once again the only appointment available is THREE MONTHS from now. I've not booked it and will just keep trying every day in the hopes of a cancellation I guess.

I CANNOT DEAL WITH ALL OF THIS SHIT RIGHT NOW.

Overwhelmed

I have not been able to sleep properly in days. Partly due to night-pain, partly due to waking up to pee, and partly due to crying puppies outside my door demanding all of my attention.

This means I have very few spoons to start each day with, and not as many as my puppy demands from me each day.

Rambo's going away for a while on Friday and I don't know how I'm going to cope. Scouser's coming to stay for the weekend, supposedly to help out but I feel that trying to be awake and sociable for her will just drain me even further.

Moxie ate my brand-new headphones that were so awesome last night. I blame myself for leaving them out for her to chew, but I didn't realise that going upstairs to the loo would end with me being stuck up there and going to bed. I asked Rambo to put my laptop away, but he didn't even shut it down, let alone put the cables out of her reach.

I don't know why something as stupid as having my headphones eaten should put me into such a state of depression but I think it's more of a last-straw kind of thing.

I am so not dealing well with anything right now, and so terrified of next week, and so overwhelmed by it all, and I just don't know what to do.

Emo

What the hell do you do when you're in too much pain to sleep but are too damn tired to stay awake properly?

I spent the last hour lying in bed crying as quietly as possible to myself so as not to wake Rambo but it got boring pretty fast and when I finally realised what the music that had been playing through my head for the last hour was* I just had to laugh, and get up so I could do that downstairs away from sleeping boyfriends.

The pain seems to be hitting me extra-hard lately, but I don't really think the pain's gotten worse in itself (hanging around 7.5 at the minute). I was just so sure that I was going to finally get to see the rheumatologist this time and so sure that he'd be able to give me some stronger painkillers and that they might actually work. I'm just...completely crushed by having that ripped away from me once again. I can't deal with this pain forever, I've been holding on because I knew I would have some pain relief soon, but that 'soon' never quite gets here and I'm slowly deteriorating in the meantime.

Spent the last few days in the kind of depression where I'm wondering what the hell the point of living is if this is what my life is going to be like - scratch that - if this is as good as my life will get. I'm slowly getting worse all the time and I will never be better than this.

I'm not going to kill myself or anything, put the phone down, I don't need the police to come check on me. I won't, because I know how upset that would make some people (and also because I'm fucking terrified of both death and the pain that comes with it. Yes, you heard me, I am living with pain 24/7 and am still TERRIFIED of any pain whatsoever.)

But I can't help thinking, at the moment, how damn selfish those people are for wanting me to keep living when I'm in this much pain.





*I'm much too young to feel this damn old.