Le Sigh

I can’t wait to have my surgery, for several reasons.  I’ve never been so excited to be cut open and let someone dig around my insides.  I’m sick of feeling sick.  When I don’t feel well I don’t have any motivation to do much of anything.  I’ve got some serious writers block going on, and I can’t seem to get rid of it.  No matter what I do, or the old techniques I try, it just sits there looking all harrumph at me and refuses to move.  I’ll open the word document, read what I’ve recently written and then stare at the screen for half an hour with a blank mind.  I’ve been spending my writing time going to the gym or Facebooking instead.  I guess one of those things is good for my health.

 

You can only go for so long feeling crappy before it sucks you down into a deep depression.  I will never think that people who suffer from depression are weak.  I’m exhausted, I ache like I’m sick, and the littlest things people say can set me off and ruin my entire day.  And I know it’s irrational.  I know it’s not normal, but I know it’s coming from feeling bad.

I came home from work early yesterday not feeling well and laid on my back on the couch, staring at the ceiling until I fell asleep.  The whole time I laid there I felt like I was suffocating.  I hate not being in control which I readily admit, and this evilness inside of me keeps me far from control.  The only thing I can do about it is take pain meds and hope it works.

Speaking of which, I was recently prescribed an opiate; a pill of happy that dulls the pain but turns me into a half awake dummy.  Needless to say, the first time I tried it I was at work and was very lucky that all of the attorneys were traveling.  I spent the day staring at my stapler, eyes half closed.

My older sister keeps me positive about the waiting I’m having to do until July when I have the surgery done.  She pointed out that I’ve dealt with the pain for years, so what’s a few more months?  She’s always telling me that I can handle it.  I hope she’s right.  I’m trying to be a tough cookie, but it’s hard.

I’m hoping that this writers block is just frustration and depression induced.  Maybe once I have the surgery and start to feel good again, the creative juices will start flowing.  Until then I’ll be in a half stupid opiate state and stalking my Facebook friends instead of being productive.  Bleh.

 

 

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