I'm tired of trying

I'm not entirely sure what to say anymore. Not that I could be totally transparent even if I wanted to. I suppose I'll give it a shot, for the sake of catharsis.

I guess I'm just sick of the panic. The intrusive thoughts. Being beholden to the whims of a legal drug dealer, (psychiatrist) to decide what is or isn't best for me. Their utter incompetence at performing their basic duties, like calling in a prescription that if I don't get ahold of in time, I would have seizures. The state's feckless manner of dealing with people on medicaid in general, and having to compensate for their incompetence/lack of care on my end. Being left on hold for 20 plus minutes and treated with utter disdain by the PCP offices designed to churn out as many patients as possible, with little regard for their well being because they know they will always have patients. They only care for a check.

Tired of the lack of support from family. "Just relax" they say, as a wave of panic that I can't control and can feel physiologically hits me like a wave of pure cortisol because I'm waiting on an important call back from a doctor, or waiting on a prescription to be filled. All while trying to manage muscle pain, joint pain, nerve pain, muscle weakness, stomach pain, brain fog, severe OCD, MCAS, terrible acne, disassociation, crippling fatigue, benzo tolerance withdrawal, the impact those things have on my self esteem/ability to retain hope, and a cornucopia of other fears/intrusions/neurological abnormalities that plague me daily. They have no clue how devastating lyme/withdrawal related anxiety/pain is, and it doesn't seem like they care to understand either. "But you write well" They say. "But you're smart" they say. The assumption being that surely I'm overreacting, being that I display some measure of competence. But it's all relative. I don't feel competent. I don't feel smart; and I don't accept this "me". They can, but I won't.

Do I have to be a drooling vegetable for them to actually give a darn?

It's been an endless pain train since I was roughly twelve years old, and it gets no easier as I edge my way towards age 28. It's days like these where I sit here in physiological/psychological agony, nerves on a hair trigger, waiting for a response from my psychiatrist, who cannot be bothered to pick up her phone, that I feel like none of this is worth it. After all, who likes being constantly looked at with a suspicious eye by the doctor they are supposed to be able to trust because other drug abusers used them for prescriptions they weren't even taking? I WANT OFF OF THIS MEDICATION. I DON'T WANT MORE OF IT. I just can't seem to find a good time to taper, because lyme is always in the way, making it infinitely more difficult.

It's days like these where I just want to give them the middle finger, and cold turkey the drug, just so they don't get paid to see me for another appointment. But I know that would be extremely dangerous, and I likely wouldn't be able to bear it...

And I always end up fruitlessly try to seek consolement from my distant family members who can't seem to understand why I'm on edge/irritable/scared when I'm bursting at the seams, yet still trying as hard as I can to contain it. So they take whatever little bit of my mood that seeps out personally, which I rarely ever actually take out on them, and blame me for being "ungrateful" or "lacking self control". Just because my body language wasn't exactly to their liking. The irony isn't lost on me, being that they themselves are in a state of comparatively good health, yet can't manage to see the contrast, and understand just how good they have it. At least my mother and father have lived full lives. At least they aren't ill. At least they aren't slaves to prescription drugs.

I don't want my illnesses/traumas to define me, and encapsulate my identity, but I feel so far gone now, that I almost don't even have a choice, because, how am I supposed to be "me" when every waking moment of life is forcing my hand and screaming at me to "pay attention to these symptoms" because they are incapable of being ignored. Disassociation being the most apt example. It destroys my sense of self. Who I am. It is impossible to ignore. Overlapping conditions is another example. How am I supposed to ignore these things, when, if I do, I could be potentially ignoring something very dangerous? I swear, at this point, if I was having a heart attack, I wouldn't even know it, because I am so used to chest pain.

I'm always glancing at the clock too, like a crackhead waiting for his dealer to show up, because I have to make sure that brainfog/time distortion doesn't take my hand and lead me into a dark cave. Because I NEED to make sure my medications are taken exactly on time. The alternative is almost unthinkable. Perfection is necessary to maintain any semblance of "stability" in tolerance withdrawal.

I often wonder if this life is some sort of purgatory, or hell. I can't think of a more dastardly concept than a world in which pain is required to feel happiness. Surely, the laws of physics don't universally support that reality. Assuming the multiverse theory holds any water. And to be trapped within this reality, and feel almost nothing but pain? It makes the mere knowledge that happiness/pleasure exists, torturous. If this is hell, I'm in the 7th circle, at the least.

I know I'm preaching to the choir, and that you are all in pain as well, but I have nowhere else to vent this. No-one else cares. So forgive me if I'm complaining a lot. This is the only place I feel that I can do so without being judged/crucified for it.

I'm so sorry; I hear you.

I am by no means a doctor and would recommend speaking with a physician about this: you could try doing a neurotransmitter test through a company like sanesco and see if supplementing with those help you taper off (if your doctor thinks it's okay to do so.) I can't say if it's entirely effective yet and there also might be other companies doing something similar, but it's an idea.

Finding a good therapist match may take a few tries, but finding the right one is worth it.

These have gotten me through a lot:
2 Corinthians 4:16-18
Romans 5:3-5

Previously, I mentioned your good at writing. Because you string words together really well. In any abyss people can fall into, it helps to know what your good at. And some people don’t know yet what they’re good at hopefully in time they will find out. Ive was a published column writer in the distant past for a specific audience in several print medias even though im not that great of a writer, certainly not here. Editors of yesterday did a lot of work for people like me who made mistakes. After a while one line was starting to get worse I could barely put anything together. My brain was fried. I started noticing major brain fog in grade school of course high school was the same , And post high school education well I did a little bit of it here snd there , took me forever, I decided not to go as far as originally planned, it was just too difficult with lyme brain.

I was in pretty bad shape, but no addictions though so thats a difference. That said, this illness changed who I was. I was very involved in a sport for years as an athlete from my teen years into adulthood (past very active adrenaline junky) and a writer. It took away my identity - retired from it while still in my prime. And I never really got to do this completely healthy since I had this off and on since childhood. This really sucked the remainder of my dreams away. So I wonder almost everyday how far I might have progressed, which was pretty good itself even with a performance handicap the whole time which gave me no choice but to somewhat work around. My style and form was different for a reason- thats how my aching body made it possible.

With that changed, I concentrated on other things I could still do, which certainly was not my first choice, but it gave me a reason to live. Some days I could not do that stuff either, and trying to lay on the couch was the highlight of my day.

As far as support or understanding , well I didn’t have any. Some bosses noticed and I certainly didn’t expect them to understand so I change jobs to accommodate my advancing handicap. So like many I lost a lot of money from this too.

I am much better now, but to old to continue with my sport and would have retired from it years ago anyway. I have championship titles and one national win that I will never forget. Suddenly stopping was not my plan, I had a natural talent that I could no longer use. But life is about change I guess, well thats what were told lol.

Thats just my example, everyone story is different. We've all read a few. Some are worse than others.

One really need to focus on what you can do and try your best to find pleasure in something that is not harmful to your body , mentally or physically. That may sound like general BS, but there is some truth to it. We do get better.

I known people who've ended it. Some seemed to be "negative" people and some seemed to be" positive" people (who were apparently putting on an act). Their situation was not a permanent one, but they made a permanent ending when they didnt need to. If only they saw it that way. Of course it’s hard to see out and over the opening of the abyss you got sucked into.

Life unfortunately has pain for some of us. Sometimes for a really long time. I really envy those who've not had to endure it. But my pain was not nearly comparable to some of those who've experienced war. I'm very grateful that Ive never experienced that, since Ive heard real life stories face to face.

Does pain make us stronger? Maybe. Im a "realist" so I wont say it does for sure. Why was this thrown upon us? The question we all wonder but will never know why if there was a reason or not.