Hanging On By a Thread

I only slept four hours last night and, no surprise, had nightmares and spent that time tossing and turning and waking up sweating and anxious.  I might have been able to sleep more, but I sometimes just get up because I don’t want to have anymore nightmares.  There is only so much that I can handle. 

Saturday was um…really crappy mental health-wise.  I had therapy in the morning and Goddess of Mindfulness and I delved into past trauma and current nightmares.  Very traumatic, scenes played in my head, in front of my eyes.  Nothing like some flashbacks to start the day.  So I just a general feeling of not feeling safe, there in her office, or anywhere else.  I just wanted to go home and not do anything.  Instead, I went to the only place at the moment that seemed even quasi-safe.  That’s right.  I went to my momma’s. 

I was supposed to go to the grocery store on Saturday, but was so non-functional by the time that I made it to Mom’s that she took pity on me and added my grocery list to her’s and went shopping for me. 

While Mom went to the grocery store, I took off for an appointment with Dr. Rx, only to be called 10 minutes before my appointment and to be told by her that I did not have an appointment that day but that she might be able to “squeeze me in around 2:30.” 

Sitting around waiting for her just didn’t appeal to me, especially since I knew what would happen is that I would wait for an unspecified, but long amount of time in her waiting room, to see her for 15 minutes and she really does nothing for me except give me Rx refills. 

So I briefly told her what was going on, that the nightmares were awful and increasing in frequency and intensity, that I was barely sleeping, and that I the sleep deprivation was causing me to be fairly non-functional.  She told me she would try and find me a time to come in next weekend for a full appointment and that she would look at my med-list to see if I could try anything different.  Whatever. 

I refuse to take yet another medication.  And at this point, I don’t think another medication would work.  I have to deal with these trauma issues or I may never get through them.  And I’m not sure I will get through them easily, and perhaps not ever, and I am fairly certain that medication is not the answer here. 

So, I remained hyper-alert, anxious, and just icky most of Saturday.  I ended up spending the whole day at Mom’s which surely helped.  I even took a nap and slept okay, but I always sleep okay at her and DHut’s house.  Something about being “back home” that is a sure-fire sleeping pill. 

Mom and I did some arts and crafts projects.  Mom made me a fun new pill case and I basically just watched and fetched.  She also made some curtains for the water garden shop and I held the dumb end of the fabric.  It was just nice to spend time with her, and although sometimes she can increase my anxiety, she made me feel better that day.  She didn’t bombard me with lots of questions.  She just let it be, and I am thankful to her for that. 

I spent most of Sunday in a coma-like state.  I had really bad nightmares (DUH) the night before and got about three hours of sleep.  I ran a couple of errands in the morning and dropped by on Mom to chat for a minute.  I then went home and spent most of the day on the couch, reading and petting my dog.  That was okay, because my house was already super-clean and my laundry was done.  I didn’t, and still don’t, feel very bad about being so non-productive, because I was really just feeling emotionally drained and definitely very sleep-deprived. 

I wasn’t able to talk to Malcom Saturday night because he went to Tempe and had left his cell at work.  He went to an Internet cafe and was going to get some of his stuff on his thumb drive organized because his computer at home didn’t support the drive and he also doesn’t own a printer.  Hopefully he had a good time and got to eat chocolate cheesecake (his favorite, from that particular place). 

I don’t know how he’s doing though, because I haven’t been able to talk to him since Saturday afternoon.  His home phone has been on the fritz (damn you, Cox) and he accidentally left his cell at work.  Hopefully he’ll remember his charger and I’ll be able to talk to him today.  He always makes me feel better and I can’t wait until I can hug and kiss him every minute of the day, if I want to. 

I have a really busy week lined up, so I am hoping for some no-shows and cancellations.  And I am hoping for some sleep and peace this week.  But really, those are always my three hopes for the week:

1) I don’t have to work too hard.

2) Get some sleep.

3) Be at peace.

It would be nice if I could also thow in there, “win the lottery,” but I won’t, because it is just a system that preys on the poor (I know you don’t agree, Mom) and I refuse to support it. 

“And the winning numbers are…”

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