I've been trying to work more and it's making me bone tired. Not just tired but physically depleted. My asthma has kicked in high gear today or air hunger or whatever you want to call it, and that never feels good. It's possible that my chinese food today had MSG despite me asking them if they cooked with it. Anyhow, what is done is done. Tomorrow is a new freaking bright and shiny day. Right?
I literally feel like I am a healthy person trapped inside a damaged body. I get out of the gate really strong once I am up from my dead drug sleep and then hit a wall by the end of the day. It's so hard to describe this phenomenon. I wish words would do it justice.
Last night I tossed and turned and tossed and turned. I know stress does a number on us in this. I really wish I had another several years to lie in bed and heal. But I don't. I have to try to take care of my children and do the bare minimum to survive. I just can't lie in bed and watch movies--although believe me no day is fun in withdrawal. But knowing you have an entire day ahead of you that you know you can't handle isn't fun either.
And the tricky part is that everyone says--- ohhh you look good! Oh you're fine. Or they say nothing and assume you had had a nervous breakdown and now you're fucking over it. Bullshit is all I have to say.
I was watching an old man cross the street today while I was waiting at a stop light. He looked happy enough. He looked like he was enjoying his retirement years. Maybe he was on his way to complete some mundane task or maybe he was on his way to freaking Yogurtland. I don't know. But regardless I remember saying to myself-- that guy looks so happy. He looks so at ease. Then I paused and caught myself. You NEVER know what someone is going through. Unless someone has their eyeballs falling out of their sockets or are in a wheelchair we just DO NOT KNOW what it is like to walk in another person's shoes. We don't know what their internal experience is like. What it feels like in their bodies day in day out. I know I hide it SO well. I am practiced at this. Practiced.
I don't talk about it that much except with my benzo people because who wants to hear this anyway, including myself. I'm tired of it all. It's been 3 years and counting.
Next Tuesday will be 9 months off.
One down, two poisons to go and a battered like hell CNS.
And all I want to do is sleep. Except we know that's the one thing that eludes us each and every damn day.
Someone who found themselves accidentally dependent and suffered an iatrogenic injury from medications that were prescribed. Sharing experience, strength and hope with others. This is written as a person on this winding path and NOT as a professional. Please contact a licensed professional for any medical/psychological care or advice. This is NOT a substitute for medical or psychological care. What is written here reflects my own personal experience ONLY.