chronic pain

Pain, pain, go away…please!

“That was definitely a thing that happened.”

So much has happened. So much. I thought things would untangle over September; they really didn’t. They tangled further. So dot points, because I can hardly think in a straight line.

Let’s start with the medical shite.

  • the cancer scare has been downgraded to “if the next exams come up clear, you’re all good!”, which I am endlessly, crazily, gloriously grateful for. Not just for my own sake, but for everyone who was worried about me. (Apparently my Dad took it very hard; I feel horribly guilty about that, which is stupid and I know it, but…there it is. :/)
  • we have an answer to all the symptoms: ME/CFS. (Sod the CFS, actually, I’m just using “ME” because that’s what it was originally called, and is far more accurate a term.) I have myalgic encephalomyelitis. I’ve probably had it since I had COVID the first time.
  • this means that all my future plans — turning my life around and becoming a doula+midwife, which I was so serious about I cut eight inches off my hair to mark, y’know, a decision made seriously and happily and with hope — are now in the bin. I don’t have a big enough ‘energy envelope’ to go back to university studies. Any of them.
  • I’m going over everything I do on the daily to try and get better at knowing where my limits are, what triggers things, what helps, what hinders, etc etc etc. It’s important, and knowledge is power, bluh bluh bluh, but it’s just…so frustrating and trying to condition myself into basically stalking myself is unfun. Yeah. Unfun. And saddening.

Emotional shite.

  • It’s really fucking difficult to cope with people you admire and dare I say, love, associating with people who purposefully went out of their way to hurt you, for god alone knows what reason. (Clout, I guess.)  But I’m not like She Who Must Not Be Named; I don’t dictate who my friends can and can’t be friends with. It just…hurts. To see layouts by someone and links to someone who didn’t even have enough honour in them to come directly to me with their problem, but instead spread it all over a certain forum. Lying.
  • Sometimes I just wish I’d never started making fanlistings whatsoever. I’ve quit absolutely now, and quite frankly find a lot of the staff members outright dismissive of problems I brought to them, in good faith. I am done with the vileness that is T(A)FL; but I just wish I’d never started, back in ’16. The community is a pit of vipers.
  • I just realised; fanlistings in general are probably one of the things that exacerbate my ME symptoms (because yes, emotional and mental turbulence also sucks up your energy).

And we’ll end with the far more palatable Things That DON’T Suck!

  • Our local pale-headed rosella couple have decided to start nesting…in my brushtail possum’s box. Poor Eustace has been essentially evicted from his former home and Helyanwion and Vilyaranel have moved in. Eustace essentially shrugged his shoulders, and just moved “over the road” to the first possum box. Bothered? Nah mate, that takes too much energy. XD
  • It’s absolutely delightful to watch the rosella couple go in and out of their new nest, peeking outside when a sound worries them a bit too much or just out of curiosity. I think Vinyaranel has already laid eggs, or is going to very very soon. ♥
  • Recipes for my family that have the tick of approval: Mum’s Teacupcakes, and mulberry muffins. Also, Dad declared that my peanut butter fudge is better than his favourite lollies. I just about passed out. Gonna have to do a pantry restock very soon…and pick more mulberries!
  • I’ve almost perfected my microwave cinder toffee. Almost. And semi-successfully made a cake-in-a-mug into really tiny cupcakes! No idea where I found those tiny little muffin papers, but hey!
  • Started beta-testing a cute game called EverGrove Idle: Grow Magic. It’s just your regular sort of idle game, I think, but…I’m kind of in love with a couple of the characters already? The visual-novel romance part of the narrative unrolls as your reach certain levels, and I’m just like…(⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄  when can I ask Seren to marry me she is my silver sparkling star she is EVERYTHING?! And can I kiss the Warden if only to see him smile? fdjskalfdja;j
  • Playing all the Tsuki games now, but still loving Odyssey the best. I’ve unlocked the area between Momo’s teahouse and Bobo’s ramen cart, FINALLY! First thing I did was put up a row of very bushy trees between the two, plopped a waterfall beside Bobo’s cart (ambience, y’know?), and as a sign of trying to keep the peace…we have a Peace Lemon tree. It belongs to both of them — because lemon is a common tea accompaniment, and Frith alone knows what Bobo puts in his weirder creations, so. They both share the fruit of the tree and try to get along, as far apart as possible and with a line of greenery between them. XD Sigh. I wish I could create a bedroom for Pipi, or put more elegant things in Scarlett’s loft…(I need to do a whole stupid post about Tsuki nonsense, don’t I? XD)
  • pondering starting up a new Stardew Valley game, seeing as there’s going to be a lot of sitting around and stuffing energy into an envelope desperately in my future.

Murasaki Shikibu was wa-la-wa~, change my mind. Not sure where to put that, so it’s here, and also, you’ll never change my mind. ♥

down bad like I lost myself

Awakened at 2pm last night with killer stomach cramps and the glorious fun actions those entail, so the very important appointment I had for…let’s just call it “universe with shrimp complications”, yeah…had to be cancelled. So…now, more waiting. It’s the bloody waiting that makes everything a thousand times worse, but…what can you do? I can’t afford private health care. End of story.

I still feel like absolute and utter shite, and can’t eat anything without paying for it, and to sweeten the deal, my nerves decided to throw another attack at me. charming. the only option was a bloody benzo, so…expect me feeling low for the next couple of days, very possibly. I couldn’t take the twistpain; I’d rather be sobbing about how my ex-girlfriends and abusers treated me than enduring trying to literally break my own joints in an attempt to not feel so…horrific.

One of the worst things about nerve pain is that it’s close to sodding impossible to describe — it doesn’t feel like anything else other than itself, and if someone hasn’t experienced it…you’re SOL trying to get them to understand. Even the RLS can be tricky to explain…it’s not that my leg (or in my case, ANY body part) is moving without me wanting to, it’s just that if I don’t move it, the weird pressure-pain will build and build until the RLS makes me move it. Even that doesn’t make much sense…

I’ve been having very detailed, very bizarre dreams lately. They’re not wholly nightmarish, really, just weird, but it’s still odd to me. I went through this long, long period of only seldom dreaming — and now, even naps cough up some very weird subconscious cinema. Not sure what that’s all about, but as long as it’s not the recurring “losing my old home” dream, in any form whatsoever. I’m so sick of crying; I’d like to at least start a morning tear-free.

you make me feel worse than I already feel, and I feel like someone is driving a star picket through my lower back, sooooo….

What you need to do when I ask for a painkiller: Give me a fucking painkiller.

What you don’t need to do when I ask for a painkiller: Sigh in consternation, comment about how it’s the second to last dose on the card and once we’re out that’s it there’s no more, point out that I’ve “hit this card really hard” (sorry about that, still trying to get my pain scheduled over the month, you know? I can’t quite work out how, but it MUST be possible, the way you act), generally plunge me into the highly distressed mood I am now and exacerbate the pain I’m already in tenfold.

It’s always “you need to ask for one when you need one!” or “you shouldn’t ask for one, you’ve had too many!” and I’m sorry, I’m not a fucking mindreader so I don’t know which one it is at any given time. If you could send me a schedule of what it’s going to be on what day, that would be great with the whole scheduling my pain thing, too. Thanks!

You fucking people wonder why I’m a fucking suicidal addict, honestly? Do you really?

well, that’s just rude, at this point.

Listen, subconscious, I’m not complaining about the fact that you gave me dreams about $SOMEONE, I am, however, complaining most bitterly that even in my DREAMS, I’m apparently doing the “senpai, please notice me!” thing. Aren’t I allowed to pull a Pick-Me-Choose-Me-Love-Me manoeuvre in my dreams? Can’t you throw me a bone and just give me a happy ending once, at least? This is utterly rude. I want crazy passionate $SOMEONE-kisses, damn you.

Oh yeah, uh…not dead? Enjoying the cold weather! Been dealing with a lot of pain issues; had to move Natsume back into his original area because his wifi adapter is just too old to work properly in my cottage. I, however, don’t think my back can take sleeping in the bed in his area, so if I wake up in the middle of the night in the cottage and want to do anything computer-y, it’ll mean either walking in the winter air or just…not being able to do so. It sucks, but come the warmer weather again, I won’t be able to stay in the cottage during the day anyway, so…I don’t know.

I just really, really want a weatherproof, climate-controlled area where I can computer AND sleep without agonising pain the next morning, but apparently that’s asking too much in this timeline.

This timeline sucks, just for the record.

a tale of stranger fortunes

I am never, ever speaking about the weather, my mental health, my physical health, productivity, and level of creativity if any of those things are good ever again, because I just jinxed the living flip out of myself on all those levels, and then some. It’s miserably humid and rainy, I’m Extremely Sad™, my back is so painful that I literally cannot stand up for more than five minutes at a time, I have completed nothing since the sixth because of all those reasons, including my mother’s Mother’s Day gifts, which makes me feel like the biggest ass on the planet, and the most creative thing I’ve done lately is make two origami cranes.

Hopefully saying this is like…anti-jinxing myself and things will start looking up tomorrow. Or the day after, I don’t care. Can we at least do away with this BS back pain nonsense? Please?

Only good thing that’s happened: my brother broke up with his abuser. BIG YES. I mean, I doubt he’s escaped her hideous, nasty, malicious, manipulative little claws forever, but…who knows. We can always hope. I’m not happy that he’s alone, I’m happy that his abuser will now hopefully leave him alone…for a few weeks, at least. Vile cow. (Not sorry; I refuse to extend any respect towards that creature. I am sick to death of her, and people like her. I do not apologise.)

We have a new Pope! Or, er, I guess the Catholics do? I’m not quite sure whether the Pope is everybody’s big Catholic or just the Catholics’ big Catholic. Either way, he seems like quite a nice fellow, and he’s anti-MAGA (or as close as a holy person ever gets to being “anti-” something…again, the semantics!), so fingers crossed. It’s always just nice to have good folks in powerful positions.

(I also learned that the Room of Tears is literally called that because so many Popes end up weeping there, for many reasons. I don’t know why, exactly, but I did find that strangely touching.)

I’ve been deliciously devouring the McKinney translation of Shounagon-oneesama’s Pillow Book and have gotten to the parts I never reached before in my original interrupted reads, and…siiiiigh. ♥ She’s just…SO delightful. Ito wokashi, even. ^_~  I deeply enjoy Dr. McKinney’s translation “voice”, and I love that she chose to translate so much more of the text (or texts, to be precise — there are four main variants of the original text; the one that Dr. McKinney uses for the most part is the “Sankanbon”, considered one of the most accurate variants) than Ivan Morris did, and much, much more than Arthur Waley — not that I dislike either of their translations, mind you! Dr. Waley’s writing was poetic and beautiful, and I’ll always have a soft spot for Professor Morris’ translation, because it was so obvious in his translation and footnotes that he admired Shounagon, if not being outright fond of her — and it’s presumptuous of me, but I honestly have a silly dreamy thought that Shounagon would have been rather fond of him, as well.

And I’m so full of thoughts about Shounagon’s Empress…she seemed like such a sweet soul, and the love between her and the Emperor seemed so genuine. Plus, how close and happy her family was, and it was so obvious that Regent Michitaka was so, so proud of her — of all of his children — and he expressed himself in such a jolly, honest, playful way…it’s heartbreaking to think of how it all ended. I was planning to read A Tale of False Fortunes when I finish The Pillow Book (or even before), but I’m not sure how much more sadness I can take! Ah, poor Sadako…if only you could have had your fairytale ending in that life. ;_; 24 years is far too young to die, and far too young to shoulder all that tragedy all alone…aaahhh, I’ll have to change the subject or I’ll start crying!

Apropos of Japanese translations and whatnot: why do letters with a macron (ō, etc) look so ridiculously ugly in some fonts? Either the letter itself is weirdly bolder than a macron-less letter, or the macron itself isn’t aligned with the letter below it…it’s so frustrating! And let’s not even mention that ō itself doesn’t appear to have an ALT code that actually works? I suppose I can use a circumflex o (ô…ALT+0244, for the record) in a pinch, but using a macron for long vowels in Japanese transliteration is the universal standard, so why is it so ridiculously tricky to utilise?! ><;

horrible days.

things broken. crying, a lot of crying. pain pain pain physical pain pain. angry at people who play at being mad but really, are fine — they’re housed, pain-free, lucid, have lots of friends, a supportive family, a steady income, they can go out of an evening or even simply walk to the local store, and the ability to look stone cold sane when they need to.

because they are.

I wish I had that luxury, of flipping my madness off like a light-switch, but it appears God cursed me;
     I’m downstream braiding flowers into Ophelia’s hair, whispering my goodnights to the sweet ladies.
          I don’t even have Lady Elaine’s blessing of a lovely face; nobody will ever lend me grace.

dreaming of a desk, and a shelf, and a room of my own.
I’m sure the anti-depressants will start working any minute now.

any minute now.

at a low ebb.

today I am full of ire and indignance and frustration and unseelie feelings. I want to scream, I want to rage, I want to sob into my pillows…but I cannot. I need to stay in control. expression doesn’t help; undamming the reservoir during a flood makes everything worse, so much worse.

keep control. keep silent.

but nothing changes if nothing changes.

a butterfly trapped in a chrysalis. a flower doomed to remain a bud forever. a moon forever gibbous, never reaching the full.

on and on, etc etc, same as it ever was.

there must be some way outta here…

anyway….

I hope I’m not jinxing myself by saying this, but I’m terribly afraid my laptop computer — my mirror in the tower (I should have named him Shalott), my lifeline, the one who knows me to the absolute — is starting to tire out. I am hoping and literally praying that this isn’t the case, and he’s just slightly sick of humidity and summer heat, but he is ten years old come March (perhaps that is 80 in computer years? He’s a fine old gentleman, I love him so…), so it wouldn’t be surprising…but it would be horrifying. There is no possible way I could replace him at the moment — I don’t have that kind of money in my situation, and thanks to certain people* throwing about the words “grifter” and “get a job”, I can’t even begin to consider crowdfunding or asking for financial help.

(Here’s the thing: holding down a job when your nerves are literally fraying is actually impossible, my other disabilities notwithstanding. Employers tend to prefer healthy and able-bodied employees — trés fou, non? Here’s another thing: mind your own business, you vile, odious, horrid little cretin.)

stumbling on the razor’s edge

my mental health has, amusingly, gotten worse since the hiatus, so I give up. if you read this blog, there’s going to be discussion about sad stuff and venting about nonsense that doesn’t really matter at the end of the day, because I am trapped in a highly toxic, borderline abusive living situation, and there is literally no way out. my mind is imploding and my body is decaying. this blog is going to be garbage whining. don’t read it.

in other news…meds should be free. also, Trump is a muhfuhin’ weird fascist racist shitehawk, but that’s redundant.

yesterday I rescued a tiny possum baby that was being attacked by a crow. poor little thing’s tail was torn up and bloody, but otherwise, she seemed very healthy — bright eyed, alert, not too amused about having to be temporarily in a box while we transported her to the local vet (they take in injured wildlife for free, and send them up to Australia Zoo to rehab). once she’s all healed up, she’ll be released back into this area — possibly back on our property? not sure, but they want her back in her original home when she’s better, which I love. maybe one day I’ll see her again and know her by her tail scars. that would be so cute.

I was a little worried the vet would tell us “uh, no, we don’t do wildlife” or ask for money (I literally have none — it’s only through the generosity of my chosen family that I can afford my effing meds), but I was determined to just bite the bullet, Google my ass off, and look after the little one myself, if so. no questions asked.

she was so tiny and adorable. I cannot stand human babies, and the whole “come over for newborn cuddles!” thing just strikes me as infinitely boring, but baby animals? I turn into a complete and utter mama bear and I will protect this little thing with my entire life. while I had that little one cuddled up to my chest and curled up in my hand, I could have taken on a whole pack of lions. it’s such a weird rush of feeling — dopamine and adrenaline, maybe? oxytocin? unsure.

but yeah. that’s about the only worthy thing that happened over the hiatus that I’m allowed to talk about publicly. everything else is…not happy. have a nice dragon as an apology. also the Manics’ new single, because Nicky Wire is, and forever will be, my ideal man.