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Jul. 20th, 2014 03:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
This whole "in a fuckton of pain" thing really got to my head today.
I hurt myself last night. Not on purpose, not that kind of "hurt myself", nothing intentional. We were sitting and playing Pathfinder. I was in the comfiest chair. The chair helped. But the chair was also very close to the chairs on either side so every time I had to get up to use the bathroom I had to pull some fucking acrobatic shit just to get free. This involved some hip twisting... and as careful and deliberate as I was, I still managed to twist wrong and ended up hurting myself pretty fucking badly.
This was about three hours before the end of the game. I managed to focus enough to get through it, though a couple of times I had trouble adding numbers or remembering when it was my turn in combat. For the most part I'm pretty sure no one but Will noticed (except one person making a snarky comment about me getting my numbers wrong - he meant it playfully and I wasn't upset at him but it did make me feel a bit awkward for a while)
We ended around 10, the ride home was long and quiet. I took painkillers as soon as I got home (had forgotten to bring them with me - honestly didn't think it'd even be a problem) and crashed hard. Woke up around 2am when Will came to bed. The pain was... dizzying. I remember checking my phone and messaging for a bit before falling asleep on the couch. I woke up several times more throughout the night. I didn't want to take a second painkiller.
Woke up fully around... I don't know, eight or nine. I did okay for a bit. I don't remember much about this morning, really. The pain stayed consistently bad. A fellow local chronic pain person on FB mentioned that the weather might be a problem but that the pressure SHOULD change by tonight and hopefully relieve some of it.
My mood was pretty awful. I was hungry but unable to get up and make anything. The simple solution would be "ask Will or Roq for help", but I just... I got tired. I got exhausted. I'm so... so fucking sick of needing help with almost every aspect of my life. Yes this is a pride thing, in part, but it's also just craving very basic levels of independence and I don't think I'm being absurd or irrational in wishing I had these simple capabilities. Things like, I don't know, "being able to fucking feed myself", or other things like "getting myself to the goddamn store to buy milk instead of needing some one else to do it", or "drive myself to a doctor's appointment for once instead of begging every fucking time for help" or "pay for a meal for once instead of needing some one to pick up the fucking tab because you barely make enough money to pay the bills much less buy anything else because you can't have a normal fucking job".
I'm just tired. It's easy for people to smile and say, "But people love you! Just ask for help, they'll help!" ... I know they will. But I'm tired of HAVING to ask. And yes I'm also paranoid that their patience will run out. That eventually Will's going to wake up one day in a year or five or twenty and say, "I'm done, I am fucking sick of taking care of you, you offer nothing in return and I'm drained and I can't handle it anymore" and leave. It's not that I actively think he'll do this, or expect it to happen, but I still worry. Because I feel in my heart that it's true - that he has to take care of me and that there's a huge lack of balance in this relationship and eventually it'll destroy him, and us.
I don't know. It's not always so bad in my head. I know there's more to me than my physical capabilities or my ability to bring in steadier income. I know I offer more than that. But when I'm so overwhelmed by pain that I can't even eat? Yeah it's not easy to remember. It's not easy to convince myself that I'm worth a damn.
I hurt myself last night. Not on purpose, not that kind of "hurt myself", nothing intentional. We were sitting and playing Pathfinder. I was in the comfiest chair. The chair helped. But the chair was also very close to the chairs on either side so every time I had to get up to use the bathroom I had to pull some fucking acrobatic shit just to get free. This involved some hip twisting... and as careful and deliberate as I was, I still managed to twist wrong and ended up hurting myself pretty fucking badly.
This was about three hours before the end of the game. I managed to focus enough to get through it, though a couple of times I had trouble adding numbers or remembering when it was my turn in combat. For the most part I'm pretty sure no one but Will noticed (except one person making a snarky comment about me getting my numbers wrong - he meant it playfully and I wasn't upset at him but it did make me feel a bit awkward for a while)
We ended around 10, the ride home was long and quiet. I took painkillers as soon as I got home (had forgotten to bring them with me - honestly didn't think it'd even be a problem) and crashed hard. Woke up around 2am when Will came to bed. The pain was... dizzying. I remember checking my phone and messaging for a bit before falling asleep on the couch. I woke up several times more throughout the night. I didn't want to take a second painkiller.
Woke up fully around... I don't know, eight or nine. I did okay for a bit. I don't remember much about this morning, really. The pain stayed consistently bad. A fellow local chronic pain person on FB mentioned that the weather might be a problem but that the pressure SHOULD change by tonight and hopefully relieve some of it.
My mood was pretty awful. I was hungry but unable to get up and make anything. The simple solution would be "ask Will or Roq for help", but I just... I got tired. I got exhausted. I'm so... so fucking sick of needing help with almost every aspect of my life. Yes this is a pride thing, in part, but it's also just craving very basic levels of independence and I don't think I'm being absurd or irrational in wishing I had these simple capabilities. Things like, I don't know, "being able to fucking feed myself", or other things like "getting myself to the goddamn store to buy milk instead of needing some one else to do it", or "drive myself to a doctor's appointment for once instead of begging every fucking time for help" or "pay for a meal for once instead of needing some one to pick up the fucking tab because you barely make enough money to pay the bills much less buy anything else because you can't have a normal fucking job".
I'm just tired. It's easy for people to smile and say, "But people love you! Just ask for help, they'll help!" ... I know they will. But I'm tired of HAVING to ask. And yes I'm also paranoid that their patience will run out. That eventually Will's going to wake up one day in a year or five or twenty and say, "I'm done, I am fucking sick of taking care of you, you offer nothing in return and I'm drained and I can't handle it anymore" and leave. It's not that I actively think he'll do this, or expect it to happen, but I still worry. Because I feel in my heart that it's true - that he has to take care of me and that there's a huge lack of balance in this relationship and eventually it'll destroy him, and us.
I don't know. It's not always so bad in my head. I know there's more to me than my physical capabilities or my ability to bring in steadier income. I know I offer more than that. But when I'm so overwhelmed by pain that I can't even eat? Yeah it's not easy to remember. It's not easy to convince myself that I'm worth a damn.