What Those With Chronic Pain and Illness Wish Others Knew

This is relatable, I’ve been between a 12-16 most of the week, and it has been A WEEK. Here’s hoping I feel better soon, or at the very least, less pain.

Chronic Insomnia & Trying To Combat Terrorism

2022-04-07 Miss Poison Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, Chronic Illness, Chronic Pain, Insomnia, Israel, Terrorism, Writing Chronic Insomnia, Chronic Pain, Health, Israel, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Selective Activism, Speaking The Fuck Up, Tel Aviv, Terrorism, Terrorist Attacks, Writing

I only have a few days to recalibrate before I have to force myself to function like a “normal” human-being. I can’t exactly walk into multiple doctor’s appointments and fall asleep, though that might help the message sink in for some of them. I’ve been trying so hard and today I failed. Epically. I hardly even know what day it is. All I know is that I was in bed last night by 8:45 PM. I was up after 2:00 a.m. due to pain and my cats waking me up, all upset. I couldn’t get the pain to calm down, so I waited for lidocaine and a muscle relaxer to kick in. Once they did, I was out like a light, and I stayed that way. That’s the most disturbing part; I remained asleep and would not have woken up without having a twelve pound cat jumping up onto my head, then to the floor, then back up. She finally made an alarming sound which jolted me awake, and I found myself feeding my cats and trying to figure out who/what/when/where/why and how. I still feel shaky and out of it. Then I saw the news, and I was sick to my stomach.

I’m sick and tired of being sick and tired. But I’m also sick of the violence directed towards Israeli citizens. Yes, it’s the only Jewish state in the world, but it is also home to Christians, Druze, Muslims, and people of other faiths. Every year, during Ramadan, Arabs attack in completely unprovoked ways and they kill people. Whether they themselves live or die, their families are then paid for the rest of their lives as long as a Jew was killed. That’s YOUR tax dollars, no matter where you live, paying a terrorist and their family. How does that make you feel? Are you sitting in comfort over your vote(s)?

For me, I don’t judge based on party affiliations. It isn’t my business and I don’t feel that politics should decide who my friends are, or aren’t, but the murdering of truly innocent people? Yes, that’s my business because those are my people. I would love to see the reaction of people all over the world if Jews suddenly took to the streets with guns, knives, swords, and other illegal weapons and just started taking people out. Here’s the truth; THIS WILL NOT HAPPEN. We’re civilized. We value life. We don’t have “Pay For Slay” programs, because we aren’t sick bastards. We are not evil. Let’s face it; terrorists are evil and they have no religion.

My prayers are with the city of Tel Aviv and those who lost loved ones and have injured loved ones. My prayers are with every single person who had to check in with family to make sure they were safe. Thirteen Israelis have been murdered in less than two weeks, and all I am seeing from the people I know is silence. It makes me question so much about people who claim to be activists or to care about humanity at large. You’ve chosen to leave certain groups out of your activism. That’s selective racism. I am paying attention.

While news comes in from those I know who ARE speaking up, I will experience another night as a chronic insomniac. Worrying about family and friends in so many different countries, all at once, is shattering. I’ll be close to my phone, hoping and praying for news that doesn’t kill more of my soul. Perhaps I’ll even get some work done, and yes, it might be the “too personal” kind, but certain things need to be said and I’ll be damned if I don’t speak up.

Setting my personal health issues aside, of which I’ll have to face some of them next week; I am a writer. I will always be a writer. It just so happens that this time around, the writer is pissed off. Never piss off a writer. We’ve got a way with words. Well, some of us, any way.

Slow, Agonizing Death

2022-02-092022-02-10 Miss Poison Chronic Pain Chronic Pain, Health, Images/Photos/Quotes, Migraines

This tweet could not be more accurate.

For the past few weeks, I’ve been dealing with daily, intense migraines. The app I use actually reminded me that I’ve had a migraine for over sixteen days straight. I don’t normally get them for weeks at a time any more, so my head, face, jaw, spine, and neck HURT. These types of migraines normally stem from rapid barometric pressure changes, and they can really screw with me from a functioning standpoint. Add in proximity to the ocean, and I am in trouble.

In two weeks, I go in for nerve blocks to try and get some relief from all of this. Each block goes into the current pain locations from my face right into my cervical spine. This will only be my second time getting them, but the high chance that the lidocaine will be out of my system in twenty minutes or less is disturbing. Using topical lidocaine patches has proven utterly useless. 😦

To add insult to injury, I MUST find a new primary care physician and hope that my pain can finally be properly diagnosed and addressed. There’s a strong likelihood the rheumatologist I saw misdiagnosed me. His misdiagnosis rate is about 90%, or higher, and my pain has since switched from full body pain (which is still present), to excruciating pain in my joints, especially my jaw, elbows, right hip flexor, ankles, hands, and every damn bone in my feet. I am legitimately too young for this much torture. Every day of my life is a negotiation in survival. I know I am not alone in this, but it certainly feels like I am. The more pain I’m in, the more my mental health declines. It is a depressing, vicious cycle.

Wordless

2022-01-19 Miss Poison Writing Chronic Pain, CRPS, Healing, Health, Honesty, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Suffering, Treatment Methods, Writing

Of late, the few pieces I began working on for all of you have seemingly gone off the rails. I find myself triggered, upset, angry, introspective, and a myriad of other emotions. These are not emotions conducive to writing the truth. It requires me to take a step back, work on healing, and then move forward slowly, and with grace. I hope you can remain patient with me, and when I do share what I’ve written, that you will be able to really hear me in the words.

Last week ended badly, the weekend was so traumatizing, and I ended up heavily triggered Monday into Tuesday, without realizing it until I was ass deep in alligators. This resulted in me returning home from a medical procedure yesterday afternoon, and actually having a bad reaction for maybe the third time ever. I found myself huddled under a blanket, writing, shivering, and physically shaking. I had eaten, but hadn’t hit the right amount of calories because I was so nauseous. It carried over into this morning with more shaking. Hell, I am shaking as I type this, and I’ve eaten a balanced, nutritious meal over an hour ago. It’s as if all my muscles are trying to detach themselves from my bones. That’s the only way I can describe it.

I made a decision a few years ago, when it all started, not to share what I am going through medically. Mostly because I don’t want to hear people’s judgmental comments, or ever feel like I have to justify my personal health choices/decisions to anyone. Let me be clear: I will not validate anything to anyone. They were not in the room with me when I received the information and they were not there to balance the positives versus potential negatives.

I have already heard how people perceive this without ever realizing that millions of people benefit medically from some questionable options presented to them. It is life or death. It is quality of life over torturous agony. They are making such rude assessments, all while not knowing I am doing something smart in order to help myself. The very thing they are sitting in judgment over. Judge away; I know my truth, and I know the person I am.

The percentage of personal information shared here is so minute, yet often seems like a lot. It’s made me question how much should be shared publicly. In fairness, I know what I am doing and saying, and I only try to share what absolutely matters. There are boundaries, though. Sometimes more than I ever imagined I’d need.

I am going to take a bit of time to step back and breathe. I need mental healing time. I need to get some restorative sleep. I need to talk to my tribe and truly heal the physical and mental aspect of all this, because before long, I have to turn around and do this all over again. I have very little support, but thankfully a friend is moving a few hours away soon, and this will bring forth some happier times ahead. It’s time to explore and find a balance because stress is breaking me down from head to toe. I feel it in my body and it’s not good. The amount of joint pain I experience every day of my life is beyond excruciating, and there is no end in sight.

And so it goes… A small dose of Kratom. A lot of ice water. Arnica for the obscene bruising. Bed. Maybe I’ll feel human tomorrow. That’s an enormous maybe.