Brace yourself. This isn’t going to be pretty.

Suffice it to say that I’ve had one of the worst couple of weeks in the recent history of my life.

If you’re a new reader, you may or may not have read that I struggle with depression and Fibromyalgia.  It has been, at times, a daily battle that I have won and lost, depending on the day.  I am being medicated for both conditions, and in the last 14 days, I would say they both teamed up to beat me.

It started with the Lyrica.  I’ve been taking it for 4 months, now, and it had almost wiped out all the pain associated with the Fibro.  The only pain that it didn’t seem to help was the incredible burning pain in my hips.  Now, let me tell you about this pain: it was the worst constant pain I’ve ever felt in my life.  It was constant.  If I sat for too long, my hips hurt.  If I stood for too long, they hurt.  If I walked uphill, if I walked down stairs, if I lied in the same position in bed…. they hurt.  Everything.  I felt very old.  And very hopeless.

A friend of mine had cortisone shots in her hips a couple of years ago, and I thought I’d check it out to see if it worked for me.  The doctor said that sometimes it works, and sometimes it doesn’t.  Pretty promising, huh?  But I figured, what the hell?  I couldn’t feel worse, so up on the table I went.  Two of the longest needles I’ve ever seen were used to inject the steroid and anesthetic combo that would, hopefully, give me relief.  The immediate relief was fantastic.  For two whole days I felt good (with the exception of the rather large swollen bruises on my thighs from the injection).  And then the pain came back and brought friends.  The aching went from my hips all the way down to my toes.  And for another two days, I suffered with that.  Then, like I light switch, all the pain was gone.  And I was elated.

Cue the depression.

Out of no where came a crushing weight of worthlessness.  I can’t put my finger on what exactly the problem is.  It is many things.  I feel useless.  I don’t feel like there is any one place in my life that is stable.  Everything feels like it’s holding on by just. a. thread.  Insomnia has reared its ugly head and now I’m not sleeping well.  Maybe…. 5-6 hours a night? That, of course, contributes to the depression, which contributes to the insomnia.  I’ve spent hours just staring at the wall, or a blank TV screen, or into darkness.  But more than that….it’s the feeling of total emptiness.  There are times that I have nothing left.  Just holding my head up feels like it takes all the energy I have.  Or holding the steering wheel.  Or breathing.

Does it sound as pathetic as it feels?  Wowsa.  I’m re-reading…. I really do sound pathetic.

To add insult to injury….. every fiber in my being is telling me that I am getting fired from my job this week.  It’s just a hunch.  I don’t know exactly how to describe it, but I can tell you that the energy is almost palpable.  We’ll see.  I guess I’ll know in a couple of days.

But how crappy is *that* feeling?  To not know?  It’s terrible.  And the worst part is that I haven’t heard “good job” in a loooong time.  I’ve been yelled at (yeah…. a grown, professional man yelling…. it’s awesome retarded).  Adults who work here (all of them!) have cried because of his behavior at some point in the last 6 months I’ve been here.  So yeah…. this place is toxic.  I get it.  I’ve been actively looking for someplace new for a couple of weeks.  But it would be nice to leave and start a new job, not leave, panic, have a nervous breakdown, find something, start working again, play catch up on bills…. I think I’m panicking right now.  *deep breath*

The hubs is convinced that the Lyrica is responsible for some of this.  The insomnia, the depression, the moodiness… all part of possible side effects.  So I’ve quit it, for now.  I’ll be going to the doctor to see what else is available, but for now it’s gone.

We’ll see.  That’s all I can say.  I’ll pick myself up, eventually.  But for now, life wins.  I’m staying down for a little while to recover.


4 responses to “Brace yourself. This isn’t going to be pretty.

  1. Depression lies.
    I don’t know if there’s any way to keep that in the back of your head while you push on, but whatever it tells you about your lack of self worth is. a. lie.

    Is jackass-yell-boy the boss,or is there someone above him you can talk to?

    • *sigh* Yes, Guap. Depression is a lying bastard. I try to remember that, but it’s amazing how convincing it can be when it speaks to you in your own voice.
      Jackass yell boy *is* the boss, so yeah… I am seeking employment somewhere else. Stay tuned to the next post.

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