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Knocked Over By A Feather

But It Didn't Keep Me Down…

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marijuana

Pain and the Gang

I finally got my mental health back to some kind of new “normal.”

So why shouldn’t I be surprised that the fibromyalgia¬†is starting to get worse?

I’m weaker. More easily exhausted. In pain constantly, a level 6 or above. I’m having digestive¬†problems and finding it difficult to urinate. I feel like charcoal briquettes most of the time, hot and ready to cook a steak on.

My husband asked a buddy of his about getting me some of that plant, the one a few people still think is of the devil. (I got it last night and it’s an actual strain called Damnesia which is used medically for pain and the gang.)

Tom gets it. He see’s how much better I feel after I smoke it in one of my well-seasoned pipes. If there’s anyone in this world who knows how fucking miserable I am, it’s my husband. Chronic illness is difficult on a marriage (or LTR, I have to include everyone.)

He’s my caregiver. He didn’t sign up for this. But although he’s had some issues with my mental illnesses, he’s always been great about the fibro.

He cooks, he does laundry, he picks up dog shit, he brings me coffee, he texts me from work during the day to check on me. I’ve started to take these things for granted and that really needs to stop.

He kisses me goodbye, he kisses me hello. He hugs me when I need one. He hugs me when I don’t need one. He hates to see me hurting, I often catch tears of empathy in his eyes.

I feel really sick, you guys. I don’t let on because I use humor like garlic salt.

But I really need to rest.

My photo from yesterday was how I feel, physically.

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This is me in the rain, with birds flying over me (feathers everywhere) after they knocked my ass over. 

I’m in a continuous loop of grieving.

I’m not suicidal and I am stronger mentally for the first time in years.

I’ll be alright.

If you want to reach me while I’m away, email me or follow my Facebook page. I’m not on Twitter or that Slap Chat that the kiddies love so much.

And if you are still able to walk, walk your fucking feet off for me.

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Mental Health Update 3/12/17

I broke my months long not crying streak (since November) with my therapist yesterday. It was short-lived thanks to my wonderful antidepressant, which tends to make me more cold-hearted, but it also felt fucking good.

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I’m really shaped like this, only my legs are longer and thinner.

Crying lets the sad out. I heard that in a movie once.


 

Here’s to hoping that my mom doesn’t read this post. Or, if you are…please stop reading, mom. Okay? Cool.

My mom is really sick and I am worried. Extremely worried.

I mean, that’s really all that I can get myself to type about it at the moment.

It’s enough for now.


 

I bought a quarter of an ounce of marijuana last weekend. That’s more than I usually purchase at any time, but I wanted to be set up for a while. (My therapist has no problem with me partaking in it, by the way.)

Well, not in her office.

It’s great stuff. I spend much of my time stoned and often I will come to final conclusions on certain subjects.

I like to call them Ah Ha Weed Moments.

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In Honor of St. Patty’s Day.

Like, if I continue to eat cabbage, I’ll continue to be sick to my stomach afterwards.

If we continue any habit that causes us harm, that’s on us, right? Boo hoo, tough shit and all of that. So what to do? Stop the habit that is causing us harm.

It makes so much sense when your high. Then you stop being high and the idea becomes hazy again.

Am I high right now? No, but I wish that I was, man.

My mental health is stable right now. Although life isn’t so great, I still feel like I’m handling most things rather well.

It’s really all just a day at a time thing. We’re always working to better our circumstances. Shit, I’m just happy that I can wake up every morning and be able to (somewhat) bravely face whatever fucking bullshit that life can (and will) throw at me.

I’m even happier when I don’t have to leave my house for a doc appointment or something equally sucky.

But I’m also brave enough to turn off the Wi-Fi, say screw it all and go back to bed.

I Want, You Want

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I wasn’t going to write anything today.

It’s cold and snowy outside. My body is aware of this and highly pissed off.

Today is a medicate myself to the gills kind of day. A take a nap and have a droplet of sweat from my neckline drop onto my pillow and wake me up kind of day.

I don’t usually feel lonely, but today I do.

Someone asked me earlier what it was that I wanted.

I want to be somewhere pleasantly warm. I want to not be in pain. I want…

…a giant bag of weed. (I’m without again. Boo.)

What do you want?

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