Rantings and Revelations ~ TW

Well, the nurse promised to call back to tell me what to do about taking the meds ( she knew I didn't have any lower doses). She never did. She said the dr would call in a script for a lower dose to take. He didn't.

So I am just taking my pain meds again . The high dose with the side effects. But I am NO longer having any breathing issues at all! I found out what it was: the damn anxiety meds taken with the pain meds. NO one told me not to take them together! Not even the pharmacy when I got the script - and they have a record of all the meds that I am on.

I read that taking the the two together causes: Severe respiratory depression, coma and de/ath. I wasn't far off at All when I said I thought I was dyi.ng. I damn near did.

Now I have to try to BEG the stupid ass dr on Tuesday when I see him, to let me keep the damn pain meds. I don't care if I am anxious all the time , or cant think, or drowsy, or all the crazy thoughts n behaviors! I would rather live like that then in so much pain.

Got blood test results back - nothing out of the ordinary - now I need to get a hold of asthma dr. I am so scared - it means it is NOT that specific type of asthma. So its like another horrible ( possibly worse) lung disease and or heart issues.

I fucking turned into my mother - MY WORST NIGHTMARE. I never wanted to live , suffer and d/ie like her...now look at me. And her birthday is coming up - Valentine's Day. I refuse to celebrate her birthday - I will NOT go to the cemetery. She should never have given birth to me knowing how sick she was and how she could pass down her suffering/diseases and de/ath. Fucking BITCH!

Thank god I have therapy tomorrow , I just can't even cope with this. And great - another wasted session bc I won't even be addressing my homework I suffered through. But maybe this is more important.

Fuck this shit - I am going to bed.

I can't sleep - too much pain. I took my third dose - the dose that gives me the damn nasty side effects - I don't care. No anxiety meds so breathing is fine - as fine as it is going to get with my dy/ing lungs. I had a realization :

I have always , Always, been afraid of living in illness and sickness like my mother: in and out of hospitals, tubes, machines, drs, tests, the " H" word, ambulances and suffering and pain. Constantly. And look at me now: I AM JUST LIKE MY MOTHER. My worst fears - worst fears ever, have come true.

She KNEW she was sickly, she knew she was cursed to suffer and d/ie. Plagued by constant illness . She knew if she had me - I would be fated to live her life and suffering and illnesses and an early death. But she was so damn Selfish - she had me for HER! She needed me because her life was shit - it was never about me or who I would be or even stopping to think that my fate would be tied to her own.

I would NEVER have children - I would NEVER curse anyone - to live my life. How could she have done that? I should have been aborted. I know she was thinking about it . She should have fucking aborted me in some dark back alley with a mother fucking coat hanger - guts of me strewn across a dirty street. I am so angry at her - so mad at her - I HATE her.

My deepest and darkest, most potent fear has come true: I am my mother. I am her illnesses. I am her suffering. I am her death. I am her legacy of pain.

I can't stop thinking about the blood test - it's not the asthma he thought it was. That means a slew of new hospitalizations, test, drs, machines, tubes, beeping noises, de/ath sentences. It could be lung cancer, heart failure, heart diseases ( she had a heart attack - she could have passed this to me in her curse of my life). It could be a million things ... no one knows yet.

I have NO quality of life. And it is just going to get progressively worse. Maybe my lungs have gotten even worse. I have to call my asthma dr tomorrow and make an appointment to get in asap. For that talk - you are not going to survive. You are dy.ing. We don't know what is wrong. Have this x-ray, this CT scan, these tests, this test....but don't take anything for pain - you won't breathe. Don't take anything for anxiety - you will d/ie. How can I function on this level of anxiety, of despair - this shit non quality of life?

I am my mother. Everything I did to make sure I do not end up exactly like her has failed. I am JUST like her. I am suffering like her. I am sick like her. I am worthless like her. I am a waste of space like her. I am in pain like her. I am going to dr to dr lik her. I have the same exact machines at home...JUST LIKE HER. I am dy/ing like her.

That oxygen machine my nightmare's were made out of ... the maniacal beeping of those machines - the same ones that have haunted me my whole life, are now, my life . I am worthless , just like she was. I hate her for doing this to me. I hope she is rotting in HELL.

Part of me wants to say, fuck it - I know I am going to d/ie soon. I am d/ying. I might as well take myself out before the diseases/illnesses do. And I will. Not now - and I don't want to. But I will not go the way she did. I will not live out the rest of my short life in pain and misery. I will not die in hospice. I will take myself out in peace when the time comes. It is not time now. But when it gets worse - when there is nothing but pain - nothing but suffering - nothing to my life but drs and dea/th...I will. I will go with dignity - not like her.

Part of me wonders how much of this ranting is my fear, my trauma she caused me with her sicknesses, how much is this fucking medication side effects. And how much is this my voice. How much is my anger.. Where do I even begin and she ends? I do not know anymore - it all feels and looks the same. I look into the mirror and I only see her - her and her illnesses.

I need to plan for my way out before I end up d/yi/ng like her.

I was thinking, wtf am I doing...rambling on and on about death and my mother - this is a trauma subcom journal. Not my own personal shit show. So I should shut the fuck up. Even stop posting until I return to trying to work on my traumas. Then it Really hit me: that is exactly what I am doing now. My mother. Her illnesses, her constant sickness, her pain and suffering and her death. THAT is trauma. It has haunted my my entire fucking life. I guess life itself is making me face this now. I have been running from this my whole life.

I don't know if I really hate her - I am just so scared and angry. I do not want to be her. I do not want to be in pain and suffer, like her. Oh god, I do not want to di/e like her. But I am so much like her - even in her pain and suffering...and perhaps - dea/th.

It'd funny - I do not feel like I am dy/ing. I do not, most of the time - feel like I am really sick. Yeah, I know I can not do things I used to do. I can't go on a two hour walk like I used to love to do, hell - I can't even go for a god damned walk at all. My fucking lungs won't let me. I am in pain all the time with my nerve damage. I can not go out into the world, socialize, be around people, have fun - my lungs will not let me. Like my asthma dr. told me: " If you catch anything upper respiratory, you will not survive." So, I closed out the world, I stay home. I do not even enjoy my life. There is nothing I look forward to. I hardly sleep. I do not even talk to people anymore. It's kind of like I quit living life before I even di/ed yet.

I am so grateful for the live I Have lived in the past though - I lived the shit out of life. I was so different from who I am not and how I live now. It's kind of funny yet kind of remarkable, that after all the crazy shit I have done - that I am even alive now. I don't regret a thing! Maybe I lived so hard and fast because somewhere, on some level - I knew I was going to suffer the fate of my mother - she passed down her sins and curse. Her bloodline - her blood - her genes - her de/ath sentence.

I keep reminding myself: you are dy/ing. I mean , we are all dyi/ng, aren't we? We just don't know how or the time. I just maybe know more of the timeframe than others? Actually, no - I do not know the timeframe at all - I do not even know what is wrong with my lungs. And I am so scared to go through more testing. Painful testing, terrifying testing - with no anxiety meds to help my sheer panic.

I am going to make my appointment with my lung/asthma dr. today. Actually, in about an hour. I am going to tell them I need to get in sooner than later - they usually are awesome with emergency appointments. But is this an emergency? No, not really. Maybe? I don't know. I am not going to ask to get in today, That kind of emergency appointment. But I am going to tell them the severity and get in sooner than later - maybe next week? Hopefully this week.

I do not even know why I want to go so soon - I do not want to hear the news. But, I am going to ask him, at that appointment - the beginning of my d/e/ath sentence- " am I dying?" , " how long do you think I have?" ( he won't answer that because he doesn't know what is wrong with me - off to more specialists - taking more money from my already burdened aunt - just like my mother). He was up front and honest with me before - stated it so bluntly and to be honest - rudely and carelessly and with no compassion. Even the assistant looked at him in near disbelief at his demeanor.

I still can't get it in my head that I am so ill - near to d/ie? ( Am I near to di/e? How long do I have? ). I don't " feel" sick - besides the pain and lack of ability to do things I used to and that most people take for granted because of my lungs. But, here I sit - breathing fine. But it is NOT fine. I have just gotten used to it. I am just not struggling to breathe. But I am not breathing fine.

She was FAT - so fucking fat. I am not being rude about weight , I am stating fact. I do not mean to sound judgmental - if anything, I am judging Myself, not her. Because here I am - trauma fueled pounds of FAT on me Thinking that being fat would keep me safe - keep me far away from anyone hurting me. Safe from any sexual attraction because in my head that equates to my own powerlessness, inability to say no because I have no choice to do endure and wait to be safe and escape. Just like all the times in the past. How the fuck did this save me? All it has done is contribute to health problems , self isolation and feeling so unworthy ( and judged, just like I judged her and myself).

After she died, I went on this obsessive, strict diet out of FEAR and TERROR of living and dy.ing like her. Hahah - guess that didn't work. This diet became full blown anorexia. Life was a compulsive living hell. I do not even want to think of those years of my life. And when I went into treatment ( the first time) - I was NOT ready to get better. I Only went because my dr. gave me a choice: It was treatment - THAT week, no excuses or he was going to admit me into the " H" word - The Hospital. Not mental - but physical - the kind that scares me the most. I was pretty much dy/ing then - doing so much damage to my body. Organs were going to start shutting down - there was just nothing left of me ( body and mind). But that didn't sink into my head - " organs are going to start shutting down", his words. But , I went. To pacify him, them, everyone but myself.

What I learned there was how to eat in front of people, pacify them, and just go throw it up in private. Anything to keep the weight off - to keep from being my mother. To keep from living and suffering and dy/ing like her. I SHOULD have kept it up! It is probs more healthy than being FAT as fuck. So, that full blow fear fueled eating disorder then became another fear fueled eating disorder: bulimia. More years and years of my life wasted. Wasted trying to destroy myself so my mothers fate would not destroy me. Then yet again - my ever present eating disorder became one to another to another to another - constantly morphing into the next one. The constants: fear, avoidance, not living. ( Again, so glad I lived so hard when I did - to make up for all of this SHIT).

Born into fear, sustained by fear, plagued by fear, dy/ing in fear - a life and legacy of fear.

I would like, for one brief moment, to not be in fear.

Okay - I am calm now, I can think and I can process.

What are the facts that I know:

I do NOT know I am dying. I know that my lung function is low. I know I have a a lot shitty health problem. I know that if I get a respatory ( I can never freaking spell that word!) illness my dr. said I would not survive. I know that as of now, no one knows exactly what is causing my lung issue. Which means, they do not know if I am dying, lifespan, prognosis, ect.

I have not talked to the asthma dr yet - so I really Don't know if I have that specific type of asthma or not - I only know that nothing was flagged for it as not normal. Hopefully the stand in dr will call me Monday and clear stuff up.

I just finished my session with my therapist:

I have a lot of wonderful and good news and new hope!

1. My therapist PUT herself in my network! Like The day she found out she was not- days ago and it is already in process. My sessions will Still be the rate that is super affordable! This means I am less of a financial burden on m aunt - she will be so elated. I am so elated! Plus she said she would not stop seeing me over payment issues - she would always work something out :)

2. I found out I CAN take these pain meds! And at higher dose because I FINALLY found out what was causing the die effects and it is not the dose:

NO one told me - not the dr , not my shrink, not the pharmacy - that Not Only am I not supposed to take my anxiety meds with ( side effects, or respitory ( lol, that word again), coma and dea/th) but I Cannot take my depression meds with it! THAT drug interaction was causing the NON stop Panic and anxiety and heart racing, and thoughts being crazy and all over the place! That That drug interaction, can also cause heart attacks and cardiovascular damage.

Damn it - they screwed me over, Again - all of them, Plus - tey should have known , knowing my medications and knowing there is that interaction. I mean, if I can find it online, they sure as hell know it or could find it faster.

This also means I have to get off and suffer withdrawls ( Very serious ones) because of the interaction - and I need pain meds, more than that. I am asking my DR Tuesday, if I will be okay with withdralws or what to do because my insurance won't let me get smaller dose - to wean off - until after this current script is up. I am so tired of being my own dr and tired of my insurance trying to be my dr and not let me have the meds i need - all in order to save them money.

3. My therapist brought up looking into going to the mayo clinic to find out what the actual problem is with me - is it lungs or is that a side effect of something else, something no one has found yet. I do not know if my stupid ass insurance covers this - but I am going to look into it - and check.

4. My shrink has misdiagnosed me - 2x already and give me meds I do not need. He doesn't listen to me or even help - we just stay silent or shoot the shit. She gave me the name of someone very hard to get into that is finally open to accept new clients - I am getting a second opinion! ... gets tough because I need a referral from my dr. I got my dr from referral from my shrink - they are friends :? see the dilemma?? But I need to do what is right , for me.

5. I know, in my hear, without a doubt - that my mother is watching out for me, protecting me and bringing the right people and situations and opportunities into my life. I know she knows what is in my heart - that I love her and miss her. That my angry hate fueled words are hiding my fear of her sicknesses and my sicknesses and the trauma from that. And that yes, I am angry at her. But that I am so so afraid. But I feel like she knows all of this and loves me all the same and is still looking out for me. She is still there - through all of this.

Today, I got some rays of light back in y utter darkness.

Today I have hope back...and a little peace hidden in the midst of this chaos.

Plus, thank god, I do not have to suffer from pain because I AM TAKING THESE MEDS - AT LEAST UNTIL tUESDAY WHEN i FIND OUT IF DR WIL LET ME STAY - i WILL TELL HIM I GOT OFF THE OTHER MEDS AND THE PAIN MEDS ARE NOT GIVIG ME aNY GRIEf. ...ajhhhh- caps locked and im not bothering to re-type. And no more side effects because im taken myself off the other meds.

I am actually going to be compassionate and give myself lunch now. Btw: lol, my therapist has an extensive background in treating eating disorders - go figure Funny how things work out

@blissedNblessed Hey :) Just wanted you to know you're in my thoughts today ❤️

I have not been able to write in my journal. Partly because I have been exhausted, physically. I am off all the meds that were interacting with my pain meds. But, it is making me sleep so much more ( I guess that is a good thing). But I am also SO scared - health worries : but realistic, not just anxiety. That also means, I am off ALL my psych meds. Nothing for depression or anxiety. This is not going to be good....

And I am so sick of writing, thinking and talking about my health problems. And damn sick of coming here and Not talking about my abuse memories and feelings - but I can't even hold them or think about them. It is like this health stuff has taken front and center and I there is no room left to hold the abuse stuff. I wonder, am I doing this on purpose as a way to NOT focus on that memory that I have been running from so hard? Because I have not.

I have therapy tomorrow - I am supposed to READ the journal entry out loud - I can't even READ it to myself! I can't think about it, I can't feel anything about it and I can't hold this memory. I am wondering if that will make it easier? I don't think so - such a block , I know I will not be able to read it out loud . I have pushed this so far away from myself. I honestly, and questioning if I even WANT to look at it or read it or process it.

I can't even find words to explain what I am trying to say - I can't even think about it. It is like I have regressed back to when I didn't want to work on my shit and I just pushed it all away. I don't even feel like I have not ever told her about anything or worked on anything with her - I Almost feel like nothing has happened to me even though I am so aware that it has - COMPLETE and TOTAL disconnect.

And I am Very worried about my health ( see, wondering if I am using this health stuff as a way to push away the abuse stuff). I am so scared that I keep hyperventilating this morning...so much panic. The dr for my asthma didn't get all my blood results ( they are not all in yet) - but he did say that I am a candidate for biologic medicine - meaning, my lung condition Might be from a certain enzyme ( or something) Causing the lung inflammation. He said, what he did see in the blood test I am, but he needs to see the rest of the results - and my dr ( I talked to his associate) has to make the call on that - he won't be back for 2 weeks.

But, at the same time, he was really concerned about my high white blood cell count and thinks i might need to see a hematologist. I am so scared. This can't be my life. But also, was concerned about some of my other symptoms and he gave me an appointment to see the dr's nurse practitioner Tomorrow. Oh god - I literally have a dr appointment, asthma dr appointment And therapy , tomorrow. My Entire day is Just dr appointments. And I have been putting off my chest x-ray - which I am sure they will tell me to go do, asap.

I can't think straight, i can't even think!

And my dad called me just now. I didn't answer but I am going to call him back after I am done writing. He is calling because it is the anniversary of my mother's birthday. Another thing that is really upsetting me. It doesn't even feel like my dad is abusive or ever was - my trauma stuff is pushed back SO hard! I am no problem calling him back - a little bit of a problem...but that old " i don't know why but i really don't like talking to him" kind of feeling. Like - nothing ever happened. Like he was never and is not now, abusive to me. THIS IS HOW FAR AND HARD my trauma stuff is pushed back from me right now. And this really bothers me so much! I have worked too hard to backside like this.

I have not been this disconnected from everything in so long - I do not even feel like I am real, or my life is real or the traumas are real...and right now, I do not even feel like my health problems are real - something just snapped in me. I think maybe everything is just too much right now, idk. I can't even connect right now to my journal or myself or my life. Nothing feels real - my head is fuzzy and even my eyes - so hard to describe - like this veil is over my eyes and everything i see and nothing will register. Disconnect. I can see - i just feel like i am not taking in any sensory info my brain is getting.

well, fuck -might as well call my dad back now that i am just fucking numb and do not exist. Nothing is real.

Tried to call my dad back. His wife would not answer the phone. She does this a lot. I know she is doing it because he called and left a voice mail reminding me to take flowers to my mom at the cemetery. I do not know if she will answer the phone at all today, to let me talk to him and def she will not let my dad know i called ( feeling the guilt - he won't know that i called and will think i didn't).

he reminded me, on voicemail, to take my mom flowers - that it is her bday. Um, does he really think i would forget? he cant be a bad person if he called and said that - and that he is remembering it is her bday.

maybe i just made up all the abuse stuff - or maybe i just misunderstood everything.

Ok - so you don't need to write back ok? I know sometimes it helps to do things on here - to kind of engage here and there. But I also know that sometimes the disconnect is so bad that we can't even take in anything we're reading - the comprehension isn't there. Our brains sort of shut down to keep us from driving ourselves nuts. I think you'll be able to get back to working on your trauma as soon as you can get some answers about your health

I guess I want to say to try and be gentle to yourself today - you've been doing so much in the past weeks. It seems like it makes sense that you're health issues are the most prominent thing on your mind right now - because it is in the here and right now. I know all the appointments must be scary and frustrating but maybe it's good? If and I hope like crazy they do - but if they lead you to answers and things that will help you - that's good ❤️

So I have been having such a hard time today ... finding reality, finding myself - finding a break from these obsessive thoughts. And that is what I figured out! They ARE obsessive thoughts! It is like something has taken over my brain and broke it - I was thinking it was triggered by the drug interactions? I don't know. I felt I was going crazy!

I was driving to go drop the flowers off at the cemetery for my mom. The thoughts and worries and fears were too much - they wouldn't stop. It is like ALL I have been able to think about or talk about: this health shit - these health worries. They fill my brain like fucking cockroaches and breed and a million more thoughts like cockroaches are born. There is no escape.

Then, I got home ( after completely having a sob fest at the cemetery ( went alone). It didn't even feel like my pain nor the present moment - it felt like little me crawled into her momma's lap and told her everything and just cried and cried and snotted all over herself. I feel like she let out so much pain, so many tears she never got to shed. Cried about health stuff at first, then missing my mom and needing her then all the abuse pain came out.

...and I felt better. And the obsessive thoughts lessened. There was a break from the Constant health obsessions and worries. And I figured out - these Are obsessive thoughts! Like that OCD shit came back but I don't make the thoughts go away so they are there: one after another after another after another into infinity. That was ALL I have been able to think about for days and Days! NON STOP train wreck. I had NO control over them or making them stop. It is not just like worrying - it wouldn't stop. I really thought I was going crazy - like I would end up in a freaking mental hospital.

I took a LONG nap today and when I woke up - they were gone - the obsessive thoughts. The on stop thinking of all the health worries. They are still popping up here and there, but so much more under control. I honestly don't know if they were a result of the interaction, OCD crap or me pushing the memory away so hard that something else took over. But I feel like I am slowly getting myself back - like I just came out of a cocoon and can see the sky again.

The worries are there but they are in their place and not taking over. There was nothing else BUT the worries and thoughts for so many days - nothing of me at all - just the non stop thoughts that took me over. I was able to read my homework for therapy today. My session is tomorrow and I am Not sure if I will be able to read what I wrote but I feel it is a big step for me to finally be able to read it to myself. Without skipping sentences or paragraphs or shutting it closed right away because I can't deal with it.

I am not sure if I want to even try to discuss it tomorrow or if I want to talk about how these thoughts would not leave me alone - completely have taken me over. I honestly feel like my brain was just...hijacked for a while . Do I talk about that? Or do I talk about the memory. I didn't even get out the memory - at all. I was only able to talk about bits and pieces of it, intertwined with stories that had nothing to do with the memory at all.

In other news - I was able to Not talk to my dad today. And not feel guilty all day for him thinking I didn't want to talk to him. I didn't open the texts of my sister - the later texts, later in the day. I didn't answer when they tried to call me and duo me while i was falling asleep. Yay, little win for me.

I think it is time to stop running from this memory. Yet I am not sure I can face it - directly. I do not know what to do. And I do not know why I am having THAT much trouble trying to hold it, look it it, write about it read it or talk about it! I can't even say his name!

God knows how therapy is going to go over...guess I will find out. I want to read it - but I am afraid I can't. Ahh - see, I start thinking about reading it or trying to talk about him or that stuff with him and my brain went right to: hmmm, I have a sensation in my body, it must be my heart ( it was not my heart, lol) then - it must be heart failure, to I'm having a heart attack or organ failure, I'm dying. This IS me trying to not think about the abuse stuff !!!! OMG! This is horrible - it has been relentless for days! I am not going through that again. I am not going to pay attention to this sensation ( it's gone anyways) and feed the thoughts.

I try to hold the memory and my brain takes me into The Land of Obsession! Or everything goes away - reality, me, everything around me. OMG - this is endless...I have No idea how much time has passed but I was thinking of the memory and boom: all thoughts leave ( which was kind of a welcomed thing since my thoughts have been attacking me so bad) and I have now just been spacing out i think: non thought, not me, not here - limbo land. This is crazy - it's almost 930 pm! My brain does NOT want me to hold this. . . maybe I really just can't. Or maybe I have to in order to free myself from my mind????

Now things do not feel real - I am having trouble keeping my thoughts in a row. I am really trying, I am really trying. The closer I go to into the thoughts of him - the more obsessive my thoughts get or the more elusive my thoughts get. I honesty do not remember or know what it is that is so terrifying to me. I remember a lot - its awful but not so powerful I would lose my fucking mind over this. Something is going n and I do not feel I am even in control anymore.