irrit-a-bullshit

Feel like cursing today. Not just the usual words that release the anger quick.

FUCK.

No...I want the ones that release the anger slowly and menacingly.

Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiittttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttt.

I am having bouts of anger and irritableness, with a side of suicidalness served with it.

My guess for this?

The Neurontin.

Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaammmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmiiiiiiiiiiiiitttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttt.

I don't need this side effect right now. Tax time is enough of a stressor without adding in mental health issues.

Be in physical pain ....or be in mental pain.

That's the choice I am facing right now.

Stop the Neurontin, which it taking the edge off the nerve pain....or stay on it and risk exploding into a irritable rage that results in a psych hold.

I have been hanging on by my finger nails for days now, trying to ride this out to see if the side effects will ease up/go away.

It's not.

It's actually escalating ever so slightly every day.

Freaaaakinheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeelllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll

I have to stop the Neurontin.

I have to stop the Neurontin.

stop it.

stop.

Stopping means that dark edge to my writing will resurface. Pain is a awful muse. It extracts slivers and chips out of your soul as painment.

(interesting mistype there. I was thinking payment, and that is what my hands typed. That alone tells me I am dissociated to a point that I'm not in alignment within. Sigh.)

The only ones who win in this situation are you all. My blogs will get off again. My writing will once again be fueled by the lash of the pain whip vs the comforting weight of the fuzzy blanket.

I hope you at least enjoy my pain. I would hate for it to go to waste.