Meds and dreams and generally torturing myself
Ugh. So I was sitting here at work simultaneously overheating and freezing (sweat lining my skin but I’m totally frozen to the touch) and being generally uncomfortable and I started wondering what the heck was going on when….suddenly…ohhh. You see, I didn’t take my narcotic pain killer today or yesterday. I’m not able to concentrate at work with all the craziness in my head and I was desperate to get some clarity so I took out the one that would bring a bit more pain back so I could focus on that instead. It is such a driving, ceaseless pain that it forces my attention to the present. When I spent too much time not focusing on the present, I slide back into the past with frightening speed. So frustrating.
I texted Dayne to blow off a bit of steam and he called me right away, which was amazing. He told me to be careful; said that he thought what I was doing was self-sabotaging because I can’t get control of the work situation. He told me it’s my personal version of self-harming…that I do something to hurt myself when I can’t find a way out of a place in my head. Perceptive huh? He’s always understood those things so much better than I have. So, I listed my reasons for doing so, as I am prone to do, and they included some very sound ones but, although he agreed with the points presented, he also gently swayed me back to centre by reminding me what it does to my body when I force it into withdrawal without warning. He suggested dropping the dose (I already only take one third of the prescribed dose) but that sounded not so smart; if I do not find much efficacy from the small dose I already take, a smaller dose is not going to do much as I’ll still be putting the poison into my body for no great gain. (Taking the full dose each day does help with the pain but it makes me stupid, sedated and completely unable to function). More or less I’m in a place where I want to feel better but I’m so sick of these meds slowly eating me from the inside out. (sigh) Maybe he’s right though. Maybe I’m just doing it to make everything harder for myself so I feel the way I (think I) deserve to feel?
Whatever. I’m taking one when I get home tonight. I think. Dayne called it my personal version of ‘cutting’. I don’t need any more to struggle with, even if my brain thinks I should.
Dreams last night were tiresome and repetitive. The most recent memory/the last dream before waking, had me traveling to Mexico again. I used to dream of this place often…I actually think it had to do with Mike, as it stopped happening constantly when he left my life, but it still pops up here and there. When I travel there, I remember all the previous dreams and all the places I’ve been and experiences I’ve had, so I know the way around fairly well. I checked in (or maybe just went up the stairs) and went to my room. My stuff was all there….my phone, a computer, random clothing and bathroom stuff and the bed was unmade. I was exhausted and even though I knew that I was only there for a short while (I had a clear sense that I was only there for the moment and would have to fly home shortly after my arrival). I was going to go for a swim in the ocean but I couldn’t bring myself to get up once I lay down. I fell asleep and woke with a start at 315 in the afternoon in a panic, thinking I had missed my plane.
‘What time do I usually fly home from here?’ I asked myself and tried hard to remember. I knew it was late afternoon most times and I thought I was done for and would never reach the airport on time. When in Mexico, the greatest reoccurring theme is that I cannot find my ticket/passport/papers needed to exit the country and I’m forever chasing behind a group or Dayne, trying to figure out where I need to go to pick things up. I had no idea when the flight was but I knew how to get to the airport so I packed up as fast as I could and embarked on a walk that felt like years. I eventually found a tour bus loaded with people and I asked the guide to help me, which she did. Just before then, however, I was madly texting Dayne on my phone, asking about the flight information. I woke up when he answered me in real life….
“Grainne? Grainne….babe? I can’t help you because I can’t understand what you’re asking me to do.”
(I was talking in my sleep – as per norm).
“I need you to help me find my way home!” I both said and heard myself say at once.
I woke up then, startled but relieved. He was lying on his couch beside me and his head was cocked to see me; worried blue eyes catching the light from his ipad that he checked the time on.
“What are you doing to yourself babe?” he asked in a sad, sleepy voice.
Just dreaming. Back to sleep, love, back to sleep.