Funny how my Doc always says "Let me know if there is anything I can do for you."
and I always say, "A hospice referral."
that she thinks I'm joking.
when she hounds me about getting therapy for my depression she always says, "being in chronic pain, you might need someone to talk to."
um, no I don't. I FUCKING need the medical profession to figure out what is wrong with me, and help me with the pain before my head succeeds in killing me just to get some relief from the physical pain.
Talking to and telling people about the physical pain your in does one thing. It makes people tune out because they get tired of hearing it and to deal with it they decide your making it up.
Same thing with being chronically suicidal. "Oh their always saying there going to kill themselves, they just want attention."
Our bodies and minds always have the danger alarm blaring in our ears 24/7. What seems like whining to you is us making a 911 call for help and no one is picking up the phone.
We know you can't cure us. We aren't asking for that when we cry out. Just take a second to hug us, or eat comfort food with us, or listen to us...just making a connection with someone gives us a brief second where it feels like someone is offering us a life preserver to hold onto for a second. Just give them your full attention and gently say. "I'm sorry your hurting."
I like to think of my husbands supportive hugs as a custom made straight jacket just for me.
I am making plans to stay alive after the Rheumatology consult. To the mall for sweet cookies, and to buy some mugs. Comfort food and retail therapy. The mugs because they symbolize, life. The start of a set of dishes...as in an intention to slowly get more over time.
And one must keep living to get more time.
I am terrified of what will come of all this.