A Big Black Hole

February 28, 2008

Ay yi yi. I have fallen into a deep, dark depression. Due to financial constraints, I’ve had to quit taking my medicines. I never was a big pill taker, so the only two that I was on were Lisinopril (for high blood pressure caused by fibro) and Lexapro (also for the fibro). I took 10 mg. of each, the lowest available dosages. Lexapro is an anti-depressant, and although the doctor put me on it to break the stress/ pain/ depression cycle, the only reason I agreed to do it was that while it helped the alleviate the pain, I always felt like me. I hate taking anti-depressants, but with such a small dosage I was still able to laugh, cry, and just “feel” in general, and my body aches diminished a lot.

I took my last one about two weeks ago. The physical withdrawals weren’t fun. My mind was spacey, I cried a lot, and my whole body felt like it was vibrating 24/7. I could deal with it though, because I knew that it was just temporary. But here I am, fourteen days later, and the depression is horrendous. I’m almost totally non-functional, and that in itself is driving me mad.

I’m trying to help Tom with his business venture, but it’s just been horrible. I’m getting stuff done, but it’s so hard to focus. I freak out, I cry, I get angry, I sleep to escape. I feel like the most horrible person on the planet. None of this is like me at all. I do hope this all ends soon. Just needed to vent. I hate all of this. I truly do.

No real reason for the accompanying photo. I just think it looks as weird as I feel.

Anger, Unlimited

February 4, 2008

All right, I’m just going to completely backslide on my peaceful serene fibromyalgia mindset and say that I am pissed. I am angry. I am furious. Today, I’m tired of thinking about all of those people who have it so much worse than I do. For right now, I’m tired of being grateful for the good days that I have.  At the present time, I just want to be mad. I seldom get mad. But as I lie here on my sofa, foggy and hurting from head to toe, exhausted for no good reason, and worried to death about how I’m going to make a living with all of this going on, I want to scream.

I’ve been dealing with this for eight years, and truly, I think that overall, I’ve done a bang up job. But today, I’ve just had it. I’m fed up. I’m tired of not wanting to bother anyone, of smiling through the pain, of fighting the good fight. I’ll feel differently tomorrow, but today, I want to scream.

I want to scream at all of the quack doctors and clueless hospital personnel that I’ve seen over the years. Folks, if you don’t believe that fibro exists, do us all a favor and refuse to see us. Be ethical and refuse to take our money.

I want to scream at the insurance companies that have made me jump through endless hoops proving my case, sending me running to more clinics and specialists than I’d ever dreamed of, trying medications that I’d never consider taking, all to prove the unprovable, and which contributes to the stress and exhaustion that exacerbates this syndrome in the first place. I’m tired of making 400 phone calls, gathering every piece of information that they request, only to be told that I don’t qualify for short term disability because I haven’t provided enough information. What a scam.

I’m going to call Social Security tomorrow to find out about applying for disability, because it’s obvious that I’m unemployable at the point, and I’m screaming in advance because of what I know they’ll put me through.

I don’t WANT to go to any more doctors. They can do nothing for me but push, prod and determine for the gazillionth time that I have fibromyalgia. I don’t WANT to take any more medications, because they don’t help, or the side effects outweigh the benefits. I don’t WANT to spend any more money that I don’t have to prove something that’s been proven as much as it can be proven.

Don’t tell me that this is in my head. I’m not a stupid woman. I’m not a whiny woman. There is absolutely NOTHING positive to be gained by having fibromyalgia. It brings no benefits. It brings no joy. It brings no positive attention or empathy, because I don’t talk about it. And honestly, I don’t want or need those things anyway.

I just want and need to feel better.

Lyrica…the Hunger Drug

February 3, 2008

I’ve been trying to juggle three blogs lately, and I’m doing a really crummy job of it. This one has been the one I’ve neglected most, not because I’m not having any fibro symptoms, but because I’m just too ADD to handle all of it.

BUT…I want to give a little update on this Lyrica stuff. I’d decided to take it only when my pain had reached such a threshold that I couldn’t handle it. It’s my way of calling out the big guns when the last straw has broken.

So I did this last night. I was in incredible pain–the kind where I want to crawl out of my skin. I popped a Lyrica, and within an hour, I was feeling a lot better. BUT….

I was suddenly starving. I mean, seriously, crazily starving. I raided the fridge for everything I could get my hands on. I had eaten dinner earlier, and had not been hungry afterwards, so there was no reason for this. But there I was, ravenously pulling out pickles, cake, olives, oranges. I had a bowl of egg and olive spread, which I was saving to spread on toast, but instead, I grabbed a spoon, and ate the whole bowl.

This whole time, I was saying to myself– “What is going on? Is this because of my period? Is it hormonal? Maybe I should try to exercise some willpower here.” Then it hit me– Lyrica. And let me tell you, there was not one ounce of willpower in my entire body.

Today is better. I’m hurting, but I’m back to my old eating patterns. But I’m sure I gained five pounds last night, and I’d almost rather be in pain than have to deal with that.