To Coin A Phrase (Sorta) Pt. Three
If you are going to read this post, and are then surprised that all I have done is moan, more fool you - don't bother whining in the comments. That sentence up there is very accurate, and I've not even written the post yet.
Maybe toddle off somewhere else if you don't want to read it.
So, me. Hmm...
As you might have gotten from the previous two posts about Where The F... Have I Been? you will be able to see that I have barely stopped for the last few months. That, however, is a bit of a lie, because I have had moments where I've had to stop for the simple fact that I've had no choice... My body simply won't let me do anything else.
On the pain front, things are pretty much as they have been of late... Lots of pain, nothing in the way of pain relief. Not really. My Co-Codamol/Pregabalin combination does little more than take off the edge of the pain, but it is constantly there, screaming at me in some way or another. Either my back feels like a jumbled knot of pain, my hands, arms and legs range from "Random Aches" to "Hot Fiery Pains" and my neck, elbows and knees seem to switch on and off as they please... Wobbly arms and legs, heavy head... Plus a few migraines thrown in for good measure - one of which saw me puking in the 0dd Mother In Laws toilet. Which was mortifying, FYI.
It hurts to move around, to walk, to carry, to do stuff, so I have to limit what I can do - which I REALLY do not like. I know, I know, there's nothing for it, I HAVE to limit myself, but I don't have to like it.
You name it, I have been having problems with it, from walking and going out, to concentrating on, say, reading a book or watching a TV program... The pain just messes it all up.
On top of the pain, there is the tiredness, no, exhaustion. I don't feel "Oh, I had a late night, I feel reeeeally tired" tired, but "I've been running the London Marathon every day for the last six months, I am knackered" tired. I've been struggling to stay awake most of the time, get into bed, doze off, wake up an hour or two later, then fight between sleeping and not sleeping, and when I DO finally doze off I either A) have shitty dreams that wake me up and prevent me from going back to sleep, or B) managed to fall asleep 30 minutes before the alarm clock goes off, and have to get up regardless.
I am hurting, tired, miserable and completely fed up with everything. And for added fun and adventure, I've been struggling with words and sentences, either failing to find the words I want outright, or my brain throwing in random words that have NO bearing on the conversation, or even better, talking and slurring and sounding like I've been on the booze all day - which is worse when having to talk to strangers, as they look at me like I'm one of the local alcoholics... Now, if I WERE one of these chaps, fair enough. However, to judge me on the fact I SOUND like one really pisses me off. I want to get a tee shirt made that says "I may sound like I'm drunk, but I'm not. You're looking at me like you're a judgemental twat, and you are."
On top of this, I started with my specialist counselling, and have had two sessions so far. I don't seem to have done a lot in either one mind you - the first I walked away with two wads of paper, one on "Sleep Hygiene" which she gave me and after I told her how many years I've had issues sleeping and what I've done to try fixing it, she told me to read through it, not that it's worth it as you probably know it all anyway. The second sheet was "Identifying and Working Through Troubling Thoughts" and about twenty pages long...
I will confess to you - as I told her - every time I started reading it, my brain shut down, and refused to process it. There was so much in there that just didn't make sense, my brain could not take the words and put them in any order that I could understand.
My second session, she kinda just let me... prattle... By the end of that, she decided I have traits of OCD that need to be worked on (!!) and that she would like to talk about the sorts of bad thoughts and worries that I have on a daily basis. She also wants to understand my activity levels and what I am doing, to see if I need to do more or less, and learn to pace myself...
I DID point out that I have kids and Kellie works, so pacing is not always an option, but I don't think she understood...
I have never been one to think counselling was any use... I am attending anyway just in case she CAN help me and make me feel better, but my breath is honestly not held.. I know there are some of you that have been through it and it has helped or even worked wonders, but I struggle to talk to people I know and love about my problems - talking to a complete stranger is very very difficult for me.
The only ray of hope to come out of it was a new medication! Yep, after realising how much I do (or, rather, do not) sleep on a nightly basis, she recommended I be put on a trial of Melatonin - basically, the hormone that makes you feel tired and puts your body to sleep - That, in tablet form.
It says to take an hour or two before bed, so I took it at 9pm the first night, thinking, even if it takes two hours, 11pm is still not too shabby. By half nine, I was drifting off to sleep, got comfy and snuggled down...
And was wide awake again at 1am. I dozed on and off all night that first night. The second night, pretty much the same story. Night three was the night Kellie decided to be sick and have her heart conk out. Nights four and five, I kept waking up to check she was still alive.
Since then, I take the tablet, doze off within an hour, and have 2-3 hours of sleep, before waking up, and then struggle to get back to sleep or even stay asleep.
So that's either going to be "Dose Increase" or "Back to the Drawing Board" for that one.
The last two or three days, however, I have felt like sh!t. Proper, full-on crap. I've been in agony, have no appetite, am exhausted, have struggled to get out of bed - Thursday and Friday mornings, Kellie had to get up and sort herself for work AND the kids for school, as I could barely move out the bed. Friday morning, I struggled up at half eight, said goodbye to Kellie, went to the loo, fell back into bed - and there I stayed, dozing on and off till 1pm... And even then, I had to get up as I needed a change of scenery...
So, as I said in the first paragraph: