Tag Archives: fibromyalgia

Painsomnia

 | 15°C

Painsomnia… Aptly-Named...

 

For days… weeks(?)… I’ve been unable to say words in writing. My head aches at the mere thought of making sense of my Feels enough to attach actual words to them… 

Dailyos haven’t been filled in (will have to do them retrospectively… Somehow… Using this log…). Even this Journey Journal hasn’t been used for anything much more than a LogBook. 

I’ve found this to be a Notably Reliable Indicator of Depression. Not the bad kind… No. The Really, Really, Badly Fucked Up Kind.


What’s been happening over the past few weeks, along with the God-Awful bitter hopelessness of recent times, is ensuring my brain is being cemented into the Wonderland of my Mind… And it seems I am, once again, being packed up and flung down that Rabbit Hole, ready to be destroyed and torn to pieces all over again. 

Chaos. Fatigue. Exhaustion. Grief. Confusion. The inability to process complicated Emotional Feels. Not enough time to process Complex Emotional Feels. It all just builds up and up and up, until I’m so completely and entirely overwhelmed…

I am done in… Distressed. Frustrated. Overwhelmed. Frightened. Anxious. Wound Up. Agitated. 

I fear sleeping again. I’m not even sure if I know why…

I am am in such a physical mess… And not just the Fibro. Not being able to wash my body, or my hair, or engage in any proper self-care at all is heartbreaking. But it also has an actual knock-on affect in so many other ways, too. You cannwot get properly cleaned with wet wipes. You don’t get properly washed to prevent catheter infections. Taking all your clothes off properly means that heat rash, allergens, creams and oils, groom and backside areas get properly washed, rinsed and sluiced. 

I need to get some kind of grip on it… Quickly. Before it become next to impossible to wrangle The Beast back without an all-out war…

#anxiety #anguish #asd #aggitatedPowered by Journey Diary.

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Just… Isobar Nightmares Again..

 | 15°C

More Storms…

More Miserables…

More Skydiving Isobars...

 

This is what I have to look forward to Friday through Saturday, now…😟🤯☹️😖😣😥😢

 

… To make it worse, all of Friday is in the 900s too…

#weather #pain #isobars #anxietyPowered by Journey Diary.


Surviving Trauma with ASD

My Story… My Life…

The Second Time My World Imploded into PTSD…

When I was 34, literally my entire world fell apart. I was so ill I couldn’t move and was in 24/7 agony from Fibromyalgia, and after 2 years of this illness and 10 years together, my partner snapped and she sent me home to live with my parents. Actually, she asked them to come and get me.

Just one random day. She stopped texting me. Then vanished. Never came home. I freaked the crap out. Turns out she went to her mums house. I had to track her down. And her step dad was a bitch to me on the phone.

Then she told me everything was done, we were done, and she wasn’t coming back until, I was packed up and ready to go.

My. World. Died. And. Ended. In. That. Moment.

She took the last remnants of things I had left — and I had already lost the career I loved and the data migration project I was just about to start. And destroyed them. Just one random day. Just like that.

It was nearly 4 years ago, this November it will be.

It was utterly sheer hell. I didn’t know if or how I was ever going to survive. I was delirious with agony and pain, screaming and blacking out from it every day, my parents were yelling at me, screaming at me, doing other bad things at me. I had several meltdowns per day. Everyday. The worst ever kinds. I used to come round to disaster and injuries I had no idea about constantly. It was horrendous…

It went on for years… I tried to OD twice. Was in an ambulance for it. It was a waking nightmare of exceptional proportions.

I don’t know how or why I am still here… But I am. And, frankly, I’m proud of myself for that.

And I survived long enough to get a very special person back in my life. And it’s in a better way this time too …. 🤔

So… I get it. I truly undoubtedly do.

And, also, that is how I know that others can survive this. Because I have, I do. We do. Cos we’re strong and kick ass and have to take far more than anyone could ever frikkin imagine. All. Day. Every. Day.

💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖
💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝


JUNE 2019 — Daily Mood Chart • Disturbingly Not Good… 😔

I use Dailyo diary and mood tracking app for this:

https://www.daylio.net

This just about says it all… 😞😖😢

When you are going through it, it’s bad enough… But to see it like this… You really do get to see “in black and white” as it were…

It was terrible to go through. It was a Hellish Month! 😰😖 … I hope that this next month will be at least somewhat better.

I’m not holding my breath or anything, though… 🥺😞


TMI

| 9°C |

Overwhelmed. TMI’d up to the hilt. My Mind has been blown to pieces… and then those pieces have been blown up too.

I can’t even… You know, I am buzzing on the inside… I mean literally, like every cell has its own TENS machine or Thumper Wand.

Too much everything. There’s no time to think. No time to wind down. There’s no time to Sleep – and they come with Nightmares anyways.

I’m blacking out – because All of This is just Too Damned Much. I am dying inside. I don’t want to know about any of this. The Pain is Ridiculous. The Emotional Turmoil is Overwhelming and Pathetic.

I need Space. Headspace. Peace – from the Chaos, the noise, the constant haranguing. Something always has to be done. Or noted. Or talked about. There’s always a Ping. There is always someone talking. Then there’s people walking in and out of my room, as they please, talking about stuff they could message me with.

Things keep happening and going very, very wrong… A continuous chaotic cacophony of Mind-Blowing, Brain-Breaking Stress, that just seems to never, ever end

Nothing goes right. Nothing goes easy. Nothing I do is *enough. And worse of all, is that I can’t stop other people from messing with my head, giving me Meltdowns, frightening me, Badly Shocking me, or breaking The Rules and Harming MeDestructive, Harmful, Destroying.

I haven’t stopped. I’ve been going, going, going, and haven’t even barely taken a breath for myself… Everything takes time away from me. There is no rest. There is no peace to steal. There is no respite. There is no Mercy

The Agony… The abundance of TMI… It has me blacking out into hallucinating unconsciousness; one that is uncomfortable and frightening.

Physically, I can’t move. Breathing is difficult. I am “imprisoned” in my Room again. I am Resentful, Frustrated, Hateful, Forced into this… The Agony is Unbearable.

These Feels are… Heavy… And I don’t like them. I only want them to go away.

#pain #chaos #drowningfeels #sensoryoverload #agony #despairing #stressed #drained #dragondisappointment #anxiety #asd #tmi #fatigue #helplessness #aggitated #exasperation #exhaustion #frustration

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A Futile Fibro Flare-Up Day…

Temp| 8°C

Still can’t think beyond the pain. My brain is zoned out.

I’m in no shape of, or for, anything.

Done naught but a few words in Daylio and Jouney Journal, then blindly and mindlessly poking around the internet a little.

Somehow, it’s now 5:30pm. I have no idea how that could have happened. I wanted extra meds to help play Skyrim. Guess that didn’t work out.

It’s horrible outside. Cold, rainy, high Humidity. The isobars are decent-ish at 1016mb. I’m so cold… But I can’t move, and in too much pain to do anything about it… 😣🤕🤨🥺


There are a few emails on my system now that I haven’t read. Refused to read. There’s 2 about the Boots thing, 1 about the Ubisoft problem with Assassin’s CreedUnity (the downloads run at 3mb/s & then the game won’t load anyway), and 1 from Sophie the OT regarding people coming here to install my shower.

I’m too scared to read them. Or, more specifically, I’m way, way, way far too way into OTT & TMI to cope with facing them or processing them, let along answering them…😟😣😢

I don’t know where the “Me” who used to jump at all correspondence, had Zero outstanding emails in her inbox, is avoiding messages and has nearly 7,000 “unread” emails in her inbox 🤯😫😟… 💔

… I could really do with her right now… 



I’m in 9.95 Pain… I can’t think past it, or of anything else, and my mind is blanking to try and deal with it…

  • I’ve been rushing around checking into, and booking, Premier Inns…
  • Mentally preparing for the crapload of Appointments we have to deal with and somehow manage through in May, including 2 big hospital appointments far enough away to require overnight accommodation…
  • I’ve had to deal with the last minute Car Tax thing and go out to do it, causing this latest flare up of agony (because I don’t have a shower)…
  • My glasses got snapped in half, and I had to circumvent my immense panic and Dragon of Disappointment long enough to get new ones.
  • I’ve had a good couple of mini-ish Meltdowns caused by other people…
  • My Catheter came out after only 6 days, and at 10:22pm, of all times… Late at night is *never* good; at least the nurses are great 👍🏻 🙂🤕
  • I’m even more exhausted because my mattress was being mean to me, and causing several nights of extreme pain and nightmares.
  • I flipped the big Hypnos mattress with Dad, and had to empty and redo the bed with Sara.

 


There’s been too much stuff, way, way, way too fast. Too much pain. Too much chaos. Too much… everything-too-much-on-top-of-everything-else.


 

NB: I think the new Food Plan is going to have to go in the bin, for today. There’s no way I am eating between 6pm and 7pm when I am like this. I’ll need at least 6:30pm meds to have kicked in, as well as an extra mini-dose of Oramorph, to manage to eat anything.

Before 8pm, food has no  chance of happening. 😖🤕😣😔

 

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Storm Hannah… Storm Horrible…

Temp: 5°C

Well, Storm Hannah has well-and-truly landed here… My entire body feels like it’s being crushed and outside the wind has been playing up something terrible…

Oh, the lovely Horrible Hannah

😖😩🌧🌧🌧💧💦☔️☔️☔️💨💨💨🌬🌬🌬🌊🌊🌊🤨😒
FECC7D51-E69E-4FFE-8003-338AAC3ABB1A

I truly am in a boatload of pain. Now, between the big storm and the bed that was supposed to help my back but is now hurting it, I’m not even really functional. And my fingers are on another planet of horrible, with all kinds of Paraesthesia running rampant in them. Numbed. Achey. “Buzzy”. Severe Paraesthesia. Difficult-to-Impossible to move.

They can’t even type on the iPad screen keyboard properly, for here. Not just through function, but also because the electrical stimulation in the fingertips is what actually makes a touch-screen touchable. And when fingers are numbed they have a hell of a lot less of it, to make it work. 🙄


Today is clearly as frikked up as yesterday, and I don’t think anything is going to be right with this day, either.

Yesterday was all planned out… Until something went snap. We were going to flip the mattress, change the bedding, and make the bed not try to kill me with pain. I had a huge bag of beanbag beans come specifically for that day, so I could sort out the giant beanbag, and beanbag pouffe, to go with the nice, fixed-up bed.

I even had a Loot Crate box come. Although… I’m mad at them right now, for losing one of my boxes, then being an annoying bitch about it, going around and around, trying to wheedle out of any responsibility for it. I also asked to skip this current month’s crate, but they sent it anyway, probably because I bought a 3-month “subscription” from them.

So, the “skipped” one received is currently shoved in a far corner of the room, because I never really wanted one with a bunch of IPs that I’ve not even played, let alone a fan of, in the first place. And, to make it worse, the box is diddy.


Today is already going the same way. So much Pain. Cold. Storm Horrible outside. Back, Spine (Skull To Sacrem), Fingers, Hands, Head, and Left Arm, all hurting and aching and being horrible a lot. My left arm being in such pain is different, and a bit of a Big Deal, as it does a lot of things… and I can barely lift a coffee cup with it. Not Good

And on top of all that, Dad is out in the storm (with the dogs, if course…), rushing around trying to get emergency Tramadol for me from the Out of Hours system, because Mam accidentally ran out, and only realised last night that there was only enough for this morning in her box.

It was Friday night, so OOH was the only place to turn to.

Thankfully, they ponied up a prescription that could be picked up this morning, so after waking me at 10:30am, Dad left to go pick it up from the Hospital and take it to Boot’s to fill it. All ready in time for next Meds at 1:00pm.

Last weekend, it was my face. This weekend, it’s the Tramadol. I wonder what we’ll bug OOH for next weekend… 🤨😒😒😒

#medication #isobars #anxiety #dismal #weird #exhaustion #miserable #fatigue #weather #storms #healthcare #sad #exasperation #upset #outofhours #fibromyalgia #frustration

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“You Don’t Know What Damage You’ve Done…”

There Should Be No Shame…

But… There. Is. 

So. Much. Shame.

I can’t work. I can’t breathe. I cannot seem to stop it running around in my headDepression, Panic, Hopelessness, Despair… All claiming me. Claiming my attention. I cannot relax. I can’t even take a deep breath — both literally and figuratively.

This idea has burned up my brainShaking, Shaken, Shame, Horror, Sickened Disappointment, all running rampant, until now I can barely move, I’m so frightened.

I read today on Twitter one single Tweet that stuck in my mind, saying:

 
If you’re living with this illness and functioning at all it’s something to be proud of, not ashamed of.
 

Carrie Fisher

This is what she has taken away from me. That physiotherapist.

Every Hacker, even every kind of Fighter, knows it takes one tiny flaw, one minuscule hole or weakness in the armour, and you can wriggle in and destroy what you’re going after. My armour was nowhere near strong enough to take this. It was new, vulnerable, still setting in its place. I am not sure if I ever even had a glimmer of a chance to survive such an onslaught of horrific demons and emotions from that one simple curse laid upon me.

My mind feels… Dead. Hopeless.

I’ve been trying to play Skyrim. No avail. Between my head’s cacophony of daemons, and the dogs’ constant barking (which dad ignores until I yell at him over text to fix), I’m in Emotional Hell. With Alexithymia and ASD. Meaning, I got no way in all hell’s universes of getting through this or managing this alone.

The constant barking screams it all home — if I was OK, if I wasn’t trapped here, if my legs workedthey wouldn’t be barking. I’d be there, telling them what to do until they figured out it wasn’t in their best interests not to make a peep. Dogs hate lectures. A lot. They love huggles and praises. So, it works like a charm to lecture their ears off, and they really think hard before doing it again. (Go on try it…!)

QueueHatred, Resentment, and Breaking Inside Till I Shatter & Die. Because I am not a good Mother. I am not a Good “Dog Owner” (hate the term). I am letting my babies down by not being there enough for them. All of this right now, once again, just Feels Wrong.

Not “OK”, like it did before. Like I fought so hard to feel. No. The horror inside I endured for nearly 5 years is back again, and doesn’t seem to anything but cruelly relentless and suffocatingly strong.

 
Utter Shame. Overwhelming Resentment. Clawing & Churning Despair Inside. Extreme Self-Hatred. Suffocating Feelings of Pointless & Being Troublesome. Disturbing Thoughts of Death.
 

I got them all to go away. I chased them out… But they apparently only got as far as a holding pen outside of my consciousness. And a fickle one at that. Now Queue Dragon of Disappointment to come and join in, and sit on my head again. All having a party in my brain, destroying it like it is a hotel room and it’s the band’s last night.

I’m trapped inside it, being tormented by it all. Imprisoned in my head, as well as everywhere else.

I’ve done this. I’ve done this before, and I’ve gotten away. I’ve done this before… so, so many times

… So, why do I have to go it again…?

#depression #quote #drowningfeels #suffocatingfeels #trauma #ptsd #imprisonedfeels #fibroplegia #lost #fibromyalgia #dragondisappointment #despairing

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