It's A Thing Named "It" in a bottomless pit;

We need at LEAST one new(er) car. We got a chunk of money for Christmas, some overtime money, some gifts of cash, and coming soon, our tax refund. It’s probably not enough to get a decent car, but we HAVE to save it. Jon’s car is on the edge of dying every day, and my car seems to be fine, but it’s got over 200,000 miles on it.

The problem is that we need so many other things, and this money could easily satisfy those needs. And pay off one of our credit cards. I am terrible at impulse control; especially when everything is on the internet, shipped to your door with a click.

This car situation is a bigger hurdle than buying our house. I’m hoping it resolves just as easily.

I wanted it to work so bad. I think the Elavil just shocked my body enough to give me a little less pain last month, ‘cause this month the pain is back with a vengeance. I wanted it to work so bad. I’m in so much pain; it controls my life.

I’ve seen a few more doctors since the surgery now, and while nobody still knows what’s wrong, I have found a doctor who seems like he cares a little. He is a gastroenterologist, but I was sent to see him because he is also recommended to be a good internist overall. He tried me on an antidepressant called Elavil, which seems to have lessened the pain some. He just increased my dosage, so maybe that will continue to improve. Meanwhile, his nurse also mentioned to me that in her research of Topamax (which I take for my seizures), she found a lot of stuff dealing with how it causes pain, and abdominal pain, in some people. I told her it did get worse when I started taking Topamax…she told me to check it out and research it, and talk to my neurologist, so I did. My neurologist is going to try to take me off of seizure meds completely and see how it goes! If I start having seizures again, I’m going to start another medicine. So we’ll see how this goes. I’ve been at 2/3 my regular dose now for 2 weeks and so far so good. In 2 more weeks I cut that in half, and that’s where I’ll be most scared. My seizures were always controlled at this dose, but never at half of this.

The first day that my pain goes away (probably tomorrow), I am going to try to start working out again. My problem isn’t drive; it’s fatigue right now. I’m always so exhausted, probably from a mixture of my weight, laziness, pain, and the meds. Topamax and Elavil both make me tired. I have to start now though. I have no other options. I am 32, almost 33, and time is running out.

I had surgery 2 days ago. It was exploratory surgery - a laparoscopy with possibility of a laparotomy, which is what I ended up having, because the surgeon found some adhesions he wanted to take out. This was offered up to me as the pretty much “last resort” before the pain clinic. I have been to my primary doctor, 3 gynecologists, a urologist, a gastroenterologist, and now this surgeon concerning this pain. I have had 2 surgeries - the first a laparoscopy to remove endometriosis and adhesions, and this laparotomy to explore and remove more adhesions. I have had a colonoscopy and a CT scan of my abdomen/digestive system. I have had numerous gynecological tests, ultrasounds, etc. Nothing has shown a reason why I have extreme pain in my lower abdomen. Doctors are starting to say it’s because of my weight. This is INCORRECT. 1) I have been pretty much this fat or fatter for most of my life, even before the pain. 2) It can not be muscle pain because I KNOW where my muscles are, and it is NOT muscle pain. If it were, I could work it out, exercise would relieve it, heat would help it, muscle relaxers would relieve it, ibuprofen would mask it, pain killers would mask it, a certain position would relieve it, WHEN I LOST OVER 100 POUNDS I WOULD HAVE NOTICED A DIFFERENCE…..yeah. Fuck you, doctors. No. It is not muscle pain due to my weight. I realize I have a fucking weight problem. I will get on it, but I can NOT EXERCISE UNTIL THE PAIN GOES AWAY! I am in pain CONSTANTLY, and as soon as I start to exercise the pain comes SCREAMING to me! Fucking give me something for the pain, and I can lose the weight enough to SHOW you.

I can’t take it anymore. This was the last chance. This was the one thing I was holding on for. If they could do the surgery, find the problem, and fix it, I could hold on until then. But now that there’s no hope left, I can’t do it anymore. I can’t live with this pain, and the doctors: 1) do not realize how emergent this is, 2) have no more ideas, 3) are OBSESSED with my weight, and 4) have taken all our money.

I am past depressed. I am out of steam. I do not even want to fight anymore. Everybody wants to know how I’m doing. “Fine,” I say. That’s all they want to hear. They don’t really care - it’s just what you say when someone has surgery. “Go to another doctor,” they say, when I say I’m still in pain. Easy to say. We’re out of money. And who’s to say the next batch of doctors won’t do all the same things and come to the same conclusions? And do you know you have to PAY to have your medical records transferred around? “Go to Charleston,” some say. Are you going to drive me? Rent me a car? Our cars won’t make there. Especially more than once. 

There is a medical situation that happens when a body is put past it’s pain threshold. People will soon find out what that is for me. Guess I’ll lose my job then for sure. Maybe then people will understand why I want to die, since the fact that I can’t hang out with my friends isn’t good enough. I can’t clean my kitchen, my bathrooms, shampoo my rugs, put up pictures, change the lightbulb in my tracklighting in my room, trim my bushes outside, fix the deck, clean up the yard, wash the windows, strip the wallpaper, fix the drywall, and repaint the master shower, do any kind of project in my brand new house, like I’ve been dreaming about for years. I can’t work out to lose the weight I’ve been piling on, even though I’ve finally found the secret - finally gotten over the eating, starting eating better, eating less, and am ready to lose the weight. We are around $15,000 in credit card debt, but I can’t get a second job because there’s NO WAY I could stand up for longer than 10 minutes without doubling over in pain. People who want me to have children - even if I wanted to - every once in a while I get a thought - I can’t. There’s no way I could have a child - I would never be able to take care of one because I can’t even stand up sometimes. A crying child would set my pain screaming and I couldn’t even be around it. But that’s obviously all not depressing enough to merit wanting to die. Oh yeah, did I mention that I’m always exhausted, like I’ve been up 48 hours at all times? That’s what constant pain does. I can get 16 hours of sleep (always interrupted at least 7 times by the pain) and still wake up completely exhausted. I want to die every day. If that’s selfish, so be it. I’m too exhausted to think about anything else.

I’m not even interested in the social media whorism promoted by tumblr, but I realized that this can be my own thoughts without being plastered all across Facebook, and only the people that really care enough to COME here will be reading them. I care about that because the stuff I need to get out usually gets me accused of BEING an attention whore or seeking attention, and I can’t ever make anybody understand that is NOT what I’m doing. These people are usually those that I find are so self-centered that they can not even FATHOM that people have such a rough life that they could have feelings like this, or that they need to get them OUT. To them, I say a hearty FUCK YOU. You can leave this page right now, because you are exactly the type of person I do NOT want reading my thoughts.

With that said, I also wish to remind anybody reading that, while I really could not care less what some people think of me, some of these are going to be some of my rawest thoughts and feelings. I don’t put them out there for people to blow sunshine up my ass; on the flip side, I don’t put them out there for people to trash me. Just remember; sometimes what you say can and does push people over the edge.

And that is my introduction. Scared yet? I am. Welcome to my darkest side.