Imagine me, gun in mouth, finger on trigger.
I will tell you why this didn’t happen, but e first, a big thank you to everyone who has been reaching out by commenting on previous posts, sharing your support and love.
A few days ago I hit a really scary wall. I haven’t been there in a long time. I was in so much pain, and it was so intolerable, that I honestly contemplated suicide. Yes, my religion prohibits suicide. Yes, I believe God has a plan and purpose for each person in the world. Yes, I am a “true believer” (whatever that means).
But, like all honest humans, I struggle.
And a few days ago, I had such unrelenting pain that I didn’t feel like I could cope with it. It was so bad I didn’t feel like I could survive a ride to the hospital to get pain medicine, and they can’t give you strong meds in an ambulance (as far as I know.) I actually whined to my son and begged him to get me a cold washcloth for my neck, and then cried because it wasn’t cold enough. I begged him in tears to hurry and make it colder, and I frightened him with how crazy I was acting, but I was out of my mind with pain. The world was a blur.
Then I threw up on my floor and the thought crossed my mind in that one fleeting minute that I could just end it all right there. And I quickly cycled through why not to use a gun, why I should not do it when I was alone with the kids, why I should lay still for another minute- but the whole time there wasn’t really a compelling reason why I should live. And then I believe God saved me and shifted the pain to a more manageable level.
When I came to my senses, I realized had been a dangerous place to be. The first thing in my mind should have been my family. It should have been a list of things to live for. But I was overcome with wanting that hideous pain to end. I was truly lost in the agony.
Doctors always give you a pain scale to rate your pain, and 10 is like you are being tortured- so I never say 10, because I always think there is room for my pain to be worse than it is. So I have been in the hospital on a morphine drip and still said my pain was only a 9. But the other day I got to 10 and I broke.
What’s a girl to do?
Well, I’ve been looking on the internet for blogs on chronic pain and chronic illness. I am looking for tips and inspiration and camaraderie. In real life, I have had good friends offer to help me with various things, and I have said yes instead of trying to be tough and do things myself. I am reminding myself that the state I’m in now is temporary as I wean off of my medication, and as I level out, I will feel better. I put my pride aside and asked *h for a back rub, and I ask my kids for them all the time… I am trying to write about my struggles honestly on this blog, both so I won’t make them more horrible in my own mind and so I won’t downplay them when I make decisions.
I wish I was over this, but I know the only way to be through it is to go through it. So, here I am plodding with one foot in front of the other- some days slower than others, but each day making some progress.
We have a new diagnosis in the mix: central sensitization. You can look it up if you want. As with most labels, it is both exciting to have a name and demoralizing to have yet another problem. So now I have one more problem, but one more thing to try to solve and get help with.