On Days Like This

On days like this I find it hard to be upbeat. On days like this my mental illness is showing again. On days like this I collect all of my imperfections in a glass jar and drink them down. They taste dirty and bitter. I drink them over and over until I feel like throwing them back up. On days like this I don't want to get out of bed. I would rather dream. But I have things to do, places to go, and people to see. People that want to tear off bits and pieces of me like I am a coveted loaf of bread. Maybe a stale loaf of bread but they are hungry so it doesn't really matter. On days like this I listen to music. Happy or moving tunes to get me out of this whole I have dug for myself, one shovel of dirt and gravel at a time. On days like this I am spilled red wine on my grandmother's white linen table cloth. On days like this I have no philosophy.  I am too tired to ask questions, too exhausted to seek answers, and too damned weary to know the difference. I just keep plugging along. On days like this I cry myself to sleep. Salty tears are my nighttime beverage. I don't need to be shattered from the inside. I am already broken. I am the derelict toy car that now only goes in circles. I am the rag doll with the missing eye. The teddy bear with bald patches of fur.The favorite sweater with the missing button. I am dried out marker tips and melted crayons. I am the stamp collection that has gotten warped and damp. On days like this I am the lost bird calling from the cliffs. I search and search for my location. On days like this I am ashes in the wind. I scatter with the slightest of breezes. I am frightened. I am unsure. I am complicated. On days like this my stomach growls but nothing seems appetizing. I will probably fill my stomach with too much coffee and cigarette smoke. I am weary but I am trying to turn this day around. On days like this I am haunted by my own fears. My own accusations. My own desperation. On days like this I am quiet and contemplative. I will drop everything that falls into my hands. I will forget to check the mail. I will probably burn dinner. I will definitely not sleep well. That's ok. I am not too worried. There is always tomorrow and you never know what tomorrow has in store for you. Maybe tomorrow I will feel like the queen of Sheba. Maybe I will feel like superman. Maybe I will feel like me again. As long as tomorrow is not another day like this.....
                                                                                 Neurotic Nelly

It hurts

This week was bad. The pain has gotten better but depression has crept up on me. It has washed over me like a wave of fire licking at my wounds. Cauterizing and burning them. I am angry, frustrated, hurt, and devastated. It is not because of any mental issues. It is because I have been in so much physical pain. The pains before the surgery, after surgery, the fall, the bruises and broken finger, and another very painful problem that I am not going to go into. It is not just one thing after another. The pain has been overlapping the situations. I have been in agony. My nights consisted of pain pills and crying myself to sleep. It is frustrating to my family to watch me be in so much pain. It is unacceptable to me to make them miserable. I am frustrated that I can not do the things I used to do everyday. Pain has stolen away the only things I can do.Things that make me feel useful and important. Pain has stolen what little my mental illness hasn't taken away. Pain has entered my sanctuary and devastated it. I am angry that I am helpless. If I could curl up in the fetal position and cry I would, but I can't even manage to do that. I am a positive person. I believe that I am tested and that I learn from pain. I ,however, have no idea what this is supposed to be teaching me. I feel stupid and I am annoyed. I have to have help doing the simplest tasks and it irritates me. I hate the feeling of being weak and vulnerable. I am so tired. I have listened to my music to help but it fails to lift my spirits. The only thing that has helped is knowing that none of these things are permanent and it is just a temporary situation. I told my husband yesterday the only thing that keeps me from yelling out in pain is I am afraid I will never be able to stop. I have cried and have not been able to stop. Why should yelling be any different. I can't remeber what it was like a month ago when I had no pain. I know it existed but I can't really remember it in detail. I have stopped talking to my friends. It is too much to listen to their lives and not be annoyed. It is too much to concentrate. I am just trying to hold onto the walls and prepare to go down the rabbit whole again. I am thankful that these pains are temporary but now I have an understanding of how life is with chronic pain. I now get how depression affects those that suffer from it. I now see.  Now that the pain is getting much better I am dealing with the blah feeling. I am sure the depression will lessen but I am hoping it will go away quickly. I am not a depressed person regularly. I am just going to fake it until I make it. I am going to force myself to sing loudly with the music. I am going to call my friends and tell them what has been going on. They are my friends ,after all, and I have always been there for them. They have always been there for me.I don't know why I feel this need to suffer and not talk to them. It's silly. And they would be pissed if they knew that I was hurting and didn't tell them. I have amazing friends. I also have an amazing husband. He has been helping me out and been there for me. I know it must be hard and frustrating. I am so thankful for him. I am thankful for my family and my friends. I am thankful for my blog readers who read my blog. I am thankful that my pain is less and temporary. I am thankful for my life even though I am currently feeling less than productive. This too shall pass and I am going to be back to my nerdy, crazy, regular self in no time.
                                                         Neurotic  Nelly