Another summer like this…

Today was fucking awful. I was tired from the get-go, and I was supposed to have an intake phone call for this counselling centre in town, but the meetings before ran over by half an hour so I just got a voicemail from them, and I’m going to have to rebook. I was supposed to go see the chaplain at the hospital today, but had to call him to cancel because my boss wanted to wrap a project up by the end of the day. So all of that is OK, but then by noon I realized I was starting to have a migraine. I logged onto the migraine app, and sure enough there were 10,000 people registering a current migraine in my city, so I knew there was something up with the weather because it seems pretty consistent; when there’s no weather happening there just seem to be 1000 or 2000 people having one at the same time, but then when the barometric pressure drops or a thunderstorm is going to happen it goes up to 10,000 or 20,000. So it’s like a confirmation that whatever sort of or I’m experiencing is actually a migraine and I should medicate the heck up right away.

 So I took a triptan. And an Advil. And a Tramadol. And a naproxen. And went to Starbucks. And drink some water. And sorely wished that I had some muscle relaxants at work. So I was feeling clammy and sweaty and confused and having to work on this project that everybody was practically dancing with impatience about. It just sucks because there’s no real way to make yourself feel better when you feel like that. I can go splash water on my face, or take some drugs, or use an aromatherapy roll-on, or whatever, but I’m still going to feel like a clammy sweaty mess.

So I did manage to finish, but I had to cancel an actual social plan that I had for tonight. I was going to go out for sushi and then do some crafts with a friend and I had to email her and explain that I just couldn’t. She understands and we’re going to reschedule for next week, but it just feels like now and last summer, when my mood is decent and I actually feel like working out, and being social, and doing things, I don’t have the capacity to because I’m getting freaking migraines all the time.

Last August I had 15. That’s the cut off for chronic migraine versus episodic migraine. And it basically means that I’m just dragging myself home from work, doing the bare minimum of emptying the litter box or whatever, and going to bed. If I get a migraine during a workday like today, I’m not gonna do anything after work. If I get a migraine on the weekend, I’m pretty much going to spend the day in bed and then get up in the evening for two or three hours and then go back to sleep.

So really it takes up as much time as having a second part time job would. And when I think that I’m doing the equivalent of working 50 or 60 hours a week, I think I’m coping really remarkably well. If I was a workaholic or how to high-powered career, nobody would expect me to be Miss Domestic and have a bunch of hobbies and social time. But then what is the point of working so hard when the best case result is that I get to tread water and keep going?

Trip to the ER.

I missed work Thursday and Friday because of a migraine. Friday early afternoon I was wondering if I should go to the hospital because I hadn’t gotten any sleep Thursday night and nothing I’d taken (Zomig, Percocet) was touching it. I always put it off because I don’t even want to fucking move, let alone move to somewhere I will have to open my eyes and where it is bright and noisy.

Anyway, just before 2 pm I gave up and called an Uber and staggered into the ER. They took my info and asked me to take a seat and I said “Can’t I just lie down on the floor?” The admitting clerk was like “You don’t want to do that, the floor is dirty, but no you are not allowed to. Security will “help” you up if you do.”

So I started to cry. I couldn’t help it. Went and took a seat in the waiting room and sniffled under my sunglasses and hat. It was only a minute or two before they took me back – to a recliner – and the nurse gave me a gown and started rounding up IV equipment. She started it on the first try and said that way we could start the meds as soon as the doctor saw me.

It took a little while for him to come but since I was now in the dark laying down with a blanket and with relief in sight it was so much nicer. He came around, didn’t shine that light in my eyes thank goodness, listened to my heart and asked if I could bend my neck and follow his finger, then suggested some Toradol, Maxeran, and Benadryl by IV with some dexamethasone (steroid) to top it all off. Sure, I said, that sounded fine. I don’t think Toradol does anything for me but, whatevs.

Anyway, I felt better. came home, did nothing. Got up today and ran an errand, went to work, ran another errand, went back to work and just felt bitchy! I ate two chocolate bars in a row and I couldn’t concentrate and I felt so nasty and then it occurred to me that I was having a migraine aura. So I said fuck it and came home.

One of the errands was a Genius Bar appointment at the Apple Store, where it turned out that my iPad was completely pooched but luckily still under warranty, so I got a new one and have been letting it install software and get set up since I got home. I have a phone date with one of my best friends on the other side of the country at 8 pm which is awesome but I am feeling all overwhelmed with chores so I guess I’ll go start a load of dishes and what not.

I gotta take some supplements to work (like Coenzyme Q-10) and stuff because I would do anything to make these migraines less bad. Yuck. I was reading some papers about how migraineurs are more likely to self-harm and have suicidal thoughts even when you control for other things like psychiatric diagnoses and it’s because it sucks. Waking up and being in awful pain and being like “Oh, I guess I get to lie here in pain for a day, I can’t read or do anything distracting because moving or opening my eyes is hell, so I’ll just lie here for 12 or 16 long hours.”

Summer is coming

And I don’t know if I can stand another one like last year. Today’s pretty much the first day I’ve been migraine free in about a week and a half. I was flat out on the weekend, and I remember thinking on Sunday that I should get up and do some laundry or something because I didn’t exactly have a headache anymore, but I sure as hell had a headache hangover. I was trying to remember what I did last night, and of course I worked on my taxes all evening. How fucked up that I couldn’t even remember what I did 24 hours ago. Anyway, today I went to work, went to see my psychiatrist and cried talking to him the whole time, and he gave me a new drug to try, I don’t remember the name of it but it’s an antipsychotic that’s also approved as an add on for major depression and adults.

Then I went back to work, and started feeling overwhelmed and having difficulty concentrating. And so I basically was just sitting there looking at the screen for about an hour, and then I had my appointment with the counsellor and I cried really hard at him. I was talking about how I don’t get the point of being all anal about opioid addiction’s, because I don’t give a shit if I might get addicted to opioids in a couple of years, if I’m gonna fucking kill myself right now because I can’t stand the thought of being in pain for more than 15 days in the month.

Great quotes.

It is so comforting to read something that makes you feel understood:


“Everything seems to be exhausting me, not matter how much sleep or how much coffee I drink or how long I lie down, something inside me seems to have given up. My soul is tired.” ~Unknown


“Depression is being colorblind and constantly told how colorful the world is.” ~Atticus

Has my head ever not hurt?

My mood is better than January. That’s pretty indisputable. I don’t feel like I have anything to live for, but I’m totally not in a headspace where I could commit suicide right now. So I’ll just stumble on, because I’m sure the depression will overtake me again in a year or two or three..

In the meantime,  i’ll just enjoy my head hurting every single fucking day. I got the pharmacy to fax my neurologist to ask for a refill on steroids, but he wouldn’t give it to me. I see him in two weeks, so hopefully I can talk him in to more. Otherwise I’ll just order them off the Internet. I really don’t give a fuck. They’re harmful for long-term use?  I super don’t give a fuck about that. My head hurts now. My migraines are affecting my quality-of-life now. So I can’t really be invested in something that’s not supposed to matter until years from now.

I… fuck… fucking weather… steroids

I have straight up had a migraine since last Wednesday. I should’ve gone into work over the weekend to make up time, but I just hang onto the bed and close my eyes. Today I took a steroid, which is supposed to be the last resort of last resort, and I managed to make it through the day but I still felt like crap, and I took a Gravol because I felt so nauseous it made my heart race for like five hours.

I cried on the bus on the way home, and then I cried on the walk home, and then I cried for like two hours when I got home, and I was working on trying to find another car but I would’ve had to have my dad cosign for me and it’s just not worth the stress…  and it’s not even so much the stress of having to deal with my dad as it is the stress of getting into a loan for years and years. I haven’t managed to keep a job for more than three years since I graduated, and I’m at 2 1/2 years for this job now,  and I feel like I’m hanging on by the skin of my teeth, not to mention that my boss told me to be discharged and get back to work or he couldn’t keep my job open for me just two short months ago.  So I pretty much feel like I’m gonna lose my job again in six months, or a year, and then I’ll be on unemployment and looking for a job again, and I’ll manage to scrape through until I kill myself,  but I’m seeing  repossession or desperation in the future.

So I guess I’ll just basically never have a car again, because it’s probably not realistic to want to save enough money to just buy one with cash. I had a car 20 years and four months ago, when I first moved to the city. So now I’m moving backwards. As soon as my lease is up here, I’m going to look for somewhere smaller to move  and my life will just shrink around me until I’m an old maid in a boarding house room with nothing and no one. I actually hope to God that I have the courage to kill myself before it comes to that point.

Left psychiatrist without a prescription.

I went to my appointment today and explained that whatever I had taken was making me really really tired. He said “hmmmm” and started flipping through my file, asking me what meds I have been on in the past, before I came to see him, which I really don’t remember at all. Then I said why not just leave well enough alone, because I thought things couldn’t get any worse but when I couldn’t make it through a workday, that was actually worse. And that the world only cares about whether I go to work and pay my rent, the world doesn’t care how I feel about it.

So he said maybe we would leave it for a week, because I just tried two medications that didn’t go well for me, and that he would see me next week. I cried on the bus on the way to the appointment, and then pulled myself together to sit in the waiting room, and although I started crying when I was with him I still kept it mostly together. I think I know where that I have to go right back out in the waiting room in a minute so I’m trying not to lose it. I wonder if this gives him the impression that I’m doing better than I am, though. Or maybe now that it’s been two months since I got out of the hospital, that this is a sustainable level of emotions. I don’t know. He did ask me when I was seeing my therapist next, and the answer was today, as I had an evening appointment.

I started straight up full on crying in the waiting room, and continued crying during the whole session, and the therapist clearly gets how bad I feel. He manages to say stuff that makes me feel better, or at least understood, and I end up not really being able to remember anything specific after I leave. Like, I’ll talk about how I don’t see how I can go on, and he’ll say something like “you’re just surviving right now, but you feel really bad” and I’ll be like yes! That’s it exactly! 

He must be concerned for me, because this is through the employee assistance program, and I know those programs have a limit on sessions. If you have more than just a handful, you’re supposed to be in a special program where are you also have a limited number of sessions, but you fill out questionnaires about your symptoms and a bunch of other stuff. I was in that last year, but he just said not to worry about it and is happy for me to go see him every week, so he must be keeping the company off his back somehow.

It just occurred to me on the way home and I’m going to make a note of it to tell my psychiatrist next week, but my parents didn’t ask me if I was OK when I told them that my car was written off. My mom emailed me and asked if I was all right the next day. It didn’t occur to them at the time, because all they give a shit about is money, and when they heard the insurance was paying it that was all they cared about; that, and yelling at me. But really, when I say I was in a car accident and the insurance is writing it off, that could’ve meant that I was in a real wreck. I could’ve been talking to them with casts on my arms and legs. I’m sure if I put it to the bluntly, they totally would deny that money was important to them but the proof is in the pudding; their daughter told them she was in a car accident that resulted in the car being written off, and they didn’t even think to ask me how I was until the next day. So fuck them. Fuck them SO HARD.

Fuck insurance and fuck body shops.

I might have already written about this here. I don’t know. Anyway, at the end of last month it was super foggy outside and I was driving in the morning and as I turned to face east the sun was just lighting up my windshield and I couldn’t see where I was going. So I went to pull over, because the road I was on has cars parked on both sides so it’s actually only one lane wide. I rear-ended a jeep, and had what looked to me like a bend in my hood and a broken light lens. People recommended that I look into fixing it myself, but I thought I didn’t have enough money so I would do it through insurance. What the fuck does it matter to me, I thought, if my premiums rise for some future year where I may or may not even be here? So off to the body shop I went, where they quoted over $4000. They wanted to repaint fenders so it would match the hood and all this crap, and the insurance lady said that they had a duty to restore my car to the way it was before the accident so I couldn’t just say “straighten out the hood and I don’t care if it’s a different shade of gray.”

However, they don’t think it’s actually worth restoring my car to the way it was before, because it’s a 2005 with almost 200,000 km on it, so they’re just gonna write me a check and write the car off.

So now I don’t have a car.  Or at least I won’t have a car after tomorrow morning. My dad is going to be pissed, because he gave me this car when they bought a new car for themselves and I’m sure it was some sort of hand me down, like I’m never going to be able to buy myself a decent car so they’ll help me out. Anyway, I texted my sister to *please* call me today, because my parents often call on the weekends and my dad often asks how the car is and how the cat is just for something to say. Not bringing it up until it comes up is one thing, but I’d like to at least have some kind of game plan for what to say.

You can’t get a car, really, for what the insurance company is giving me. It would have to be a pretty old beater, with pretty high mileage, and I’m not really thinking I want to take a test drive with some guy off craigslist or whatever. So I got the name of a car salesman from a friend of mine, and it was clear that I need to get some kind of financing even if I got the most-used of their used cars. So I told the guy that is straight up over the phone, and said that my credit probably wasn’t great and I didn’t want to waste his time. They said they do a preapproval and expected to call me back by the end of Saturday afternoon, which they didn’t, which probably means I can’t get a car unless I go to one of those rip off places that say “have shitty credit? We will finance you!”

It’s so fucking depressing, because my ex tried his best to fuck over the finances when we were married, and then I took it over and I was being so responsible. And then he left me when I was on disability, and then I couldn’t get a new job, and the EI ran out and then I was on welfare, so I was starting from scratch.  Then a couple years later I went on short-term disability for depression, and got let go as soon as I got back, and I ended up finding a job before I got on welfare again, thank goodness, but I decided to go to the nonprofit credit consolidation place because I couldn’t keep up with the minimum payments for everything and I thought once I dug myself out I would be OK.

So now since then I’ve paid off over $10,000, and I’ve been on time every time except for last year when I paid two payments in one month instead of waiting for the first day of the next month and they wouldn’t count that as anything but a skipped payment for the month that I’d paid in advance for. Anyway, I would have enough to pay off the rest with what I’m going to get from insurance, and then all I would have for debt is some student loans. I’d actually have a positive net value if I dropped dead right now.

It doesn’t matter though, because now I don’t have a car and I live in an apartment where basically I just walk in the door and come to bed, and I have all the stuff for a life I’m not gonna live, and I so don’t want to fucking be here.