Sep 10

 Today has been a bad day.

But let's do the last few days.

Despite seeing a couple of different people at the end of last week, being a bit more social, my mood is worse than ever.

I don't know. I am done. With everything. And people. There is no spark there at all. I think. I have become somewhat accustomed to being on my own. That change from who I was, to the reality I am in now has begun to settle properly. To accrete. I think that old me is, by and large, now dead. My grieving for it fades. Everything fades.

I am finding myself with little patience. Bleak. Unwilling to put up with the vagaries of people.

I am going to snip a whole long wander into how and why someone recently lied to me. And just not bother. Their intentions were good. The lie was manipulative. Dismissing. Patronising. Rooted in truth, like many good lies are, but then dusted with bullshit. To make me feel better. So. A nice thing ? Except it doesn't feel like a nice thing. It feels like someone is treating me like a child. And lying to me.

I am not holding it against them. It's fine. This is what people do. Are.

But it has done no favours to my mood. I feel more isolated than ever. Which is the opposite of what they were trying to do.

I think I might be turning into a not nice person.

Someone yesterday also dismissed my experiences with the NHS, other stuff. It couldn't be that bad.

Ok.

Fair enough. Just me then.

I had listened at the weekend to a friend tell me they had been told to wait for 4 months for a referral. 6 months passed. They phoned. Their referral had been lost. Start again.

But sure. It's just me.

But again. People. Invalidating me I suppose.

I am tired of feeling ill. Tired of being exhausted. Tired of having no hope, no joy. And then I run into headwinds with people. And I just. Can't.

Leave me alone.

So.

Mood bleak.

Yesterday I managed to take a hard fall. Pretty bad. It wiped me out for 5 minutes just gasping on the floor. It was half my fault, and half Poppys fault. One of my floorboards had popped in the bedroom on the way downstairs, I needed to put it back in. On the way back up, Poppy being as dogs sometimes will do, wanted to walk side by side with me, weaving in and out of my legs, up stairs, through doors - it's that very clingy behaviour. And in doing so, I was thinking only about her, conscious of not tripping over her, giving her room, and promptly fell into the buggered floorboard. Foot went through. Twisted. Went down hard. Took all the skin off my left knee. And everything went into gasping pain.

And.

A few hours later.

A massive gout flare up in the foot.

Today my knee has been very painful. That stinging open to air pain. A large chunk of skin is missing. Everytime I've bent my knee the wound reopens. Sleeping was more tricky. And the gout flare is bad. Hobbling that foot. So all round bad pains in that leg.

And the all over pains have flared too. Breath stealing pain in my lats, around my chest, all over. The same old same old.

Eyes sting and hurt every morning. Sometimes before bed. But. Docs wont do shit about it.

And then nausea today. Nausea yesterday. Docs wont do much about that either.

A treat.

An absolutely fucking marvellous treat. Of pain. And sickness. And misery.

I went to bed early today. Hopeless.

But I have simply lied in bed, awake. Sketching out an imaginary conversation where I just ask someone to kill me. Because I am done. And I don't want any more. Someone. Just please. End me.

So I have got back up. To maybe air some of this into the blog. To see if it lets some of it go.

Perhaps its just a bad day.

Perhaps I am just in a phase at the moment where I have lost patience with people. Perhaps I will warm up again.

But I think I am becoming less of a people person. More solitary. Less nice. Switched off. Indifferent. Just wrapped up in my own pain. 

I am so tired of being a second thought. So tired of never getting what I actually need. Always on hold. Always second. But always being expected to do everything else for everyone else. To go the extra mile. To do the thing. Certainly it doesn't help that at the moment I am looking after Poppy - struggling with her at times whilst I struggle with myself, and Hazel is off. Doing her thing. 

Tired of it all.

I would take that pill. So fast. And never wake up again.

Except I can't at the moment even if I had it. Poppy needs looking after.

On the plus side. Today is the first day in a couple of weeks where I haven't had the shits. Those anti biotics have finally exited my system / stopped fucking with it.

I have asked for an appointment to see the GP as of today. No idea when that will come around. Asking to see a specific doc is usually something like a six week wait, depending on their rotation. Need to talk about the gout / gout meds. Because it's been worse on the meds than not. And a review was talked about. I considered just not fucking bothering again. But I think. This is what I'm supposed to do ? Ask for a review ? I don't know. And in my current state and mood, I honestly can hardly find the energy to ask. But. I've asked.

Flogging a dead horse.