2013 – Page 3 – The only certainty is bad grammar

My amazing boyfriend surprised me with a visit yesterday!

Published: September 8, 2013 / Updated: September 9, 2013 Crystal Family, humor, My boyfriend

Yesterday I was feeling really awful and laying in bed between doses of pain pills, making them stretch as long as possible because I’m getting to the end of my monthly supply and my boyfriend called, and I was in so much pain that I did something I very, very rarely do when he calls — I hit ignore.

And then, because he does not give up on me that easy, he called again 30 minutes later. And because I love him, I answered.

He was all, “How are you feeling?” And I was all, “Horrible.” And he asked, “How horrible?” And I said, “Well, pretty bad.” And then he asked, “Hmm, well so bad that you wouldn’t want me to come out for a visit?”

I perked up immediately because LOVE.

Within 90 minutes he was walking through the door. And he and I and my mom and my sister and my brother and I went out for pizza at basically the only pizza place in Byron. As is tradition, my family members brought our own topping and ordered tuna pizza, and although my boyfriend is a pretty good sport, he couldn’t quite bring himself to only eat tuna pizza for dinner, so he got a medium sausage pizza for himself.

Then, after dinner, he and I sat out on the back porch and he smoked a high-end cigar and I ate a Hostess cupcake and for a few minutes we got to pretend that we didn’t live two hours apart.

It was pretty wonderful.

A lot of people ask me what the future holds for my relationship with him now that the two of us live so far from each other. And, yes, it has been an adjustment to go from seeing each other every single day to seeing each other once a week, or once every other week.

For now, we are just taking it one day at a time.

We are blessed by the fact that we have always had an extremely strong phone connection, and so we’re able to chat on the phone 15 times a day without thinking about it, because we used to do that even when we lived 12 minutes apart.

I think, we are both sort of hoping that I have moved to my mom’s house to get better and that three months from now, I’ll magically be healed and then we can figure out what the future holds for us.

But I also think, in the back of our heads, we both know that might not happen. We both know I might never get better, and in fact I might just keep getting worse.

For now, the best we can do is take it one day at a time.

Because even though I don’t know what the future holds, I do know that I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love him. I do know that I’ve never been in a relationship as amazing as the relationship I’m in now. And, I do know that I’ve never felt a connection to another human being like the connection I feel to him.

I love him more than I can explain. And his unexpected visit yesterday was just what I needed.

So here’s to 15 phone calls a day, surprise visits and LOVE.

The pain makes you crazy so much quicker than you think it would.

Published: September 6, 2013 / Updated: September 6, 2013 Crystal Pain, sh*tty things that happen to me, True thoughts on pain

I still think about suicide all the time.

Like every single day really.

It’s hard. To be in pain every minute of every day.

This morning was especially bad. I had a hard time getting out of bed, and the pain was wretched, and my mom just laid on the bed with me and talked to me while I waited in vain for the pain pills to kick in.

But they never really did.

And so I ended up taking more than the recommended dose of hydrocodone so that I could stand upright long enough to get through a shower.

I hadn’t showered since Monday, and today was Thursday and four days is really the longest an adult should go between washing themselves regardless of how bad their right ribs hurt. Plus, my little sister had a very important doctor’s appointment in the afternoon that she really wanted me to go to with her, and when I see people I’m not related to I like to be semi-clean. So, I summoned all my strength and cleaned my hair and washed my body and put clean underwear on and went to the appointment.

But the pain pills only last so long. And I’m getting to the end of my monthly supply, which means I have to make each dose stretch as long as possible, lest I run out and have to go through crazy withdrawal symptoms on top of my insane amounts of rib pain.

And so, I spent more of the day in pain than I did not in pain.

And I thought about suicide a lot.

At one point, my mom and sister and I were in a department store and the two of them went to the bathroom and I waited on a uncomfortable wooden bench and I was in so much pain that I couldn’t even hold myself upright long enough to wait for them so I had to lay down on the bench and all I could think was, “I just want this to be over. I just want to be dead.”

And I was thinking, “I’m here, in a department store, with probably at least a hundred other people, and I feel so alone, so sad. And with all these people around me, I have no idea how to ask for help.”

We walked the aisles of a Barnes and Noble and I searched and searched for a book about pain. I wanted to find something, anything by someone who had endured what I was going through. Something real, about what it’s like to live this way.

But nothing. I couldn’t find anything.

I looked at every single book in the health section and the medical section and the women’s health section and the self-improvement section and I couldn’t find anything real. No memoirs about people dealing with pain day in and day out and surviving it.

And I started crying.

Because I feel alone. Because I feel like maybe nobody understands how hard this is. Because I feel like the doctors maybe don’t believe me. Because I feel like I have a broken rib that just doesn’t show up on any X-rays or MRIs.

And I pray for God to give me relief. But he never answers.

So I just pray to die.

But God never answers that one either.

I know, in my head, things that make me not kill myself. I know that it would devastate my family. I know that I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t needed. I know that it would be really dumb to kill myself.

But the pain. It just messes with your head.

It makes you crazy so much quicker than you ever think it would.

How are you?

Published: August 31, 2013 / Updated: August 31, 2013 Crystal medium, Pain, True thoughts on pain

Everyone is always asking me, “How are you?”

And not like in the, “How are you doing today on the glorious sunny Saturday afternoon” sort of way, but more of the, “How are you feeling because you’re always posting on Facebook that you’re in pain and stuff?” sort of way.

And if they ask me in person, they always have this weird look in their eye, like they’re confused by the fact that I don’t really look sick.

Well, I feel like I’m dying pretty much all the time, that’s how I’m doing.

I feel like hell.

I wake everyday feeling like a butcher knife is in my right ribs. And the pain is so horrible that it literally wakes me up in the middle of the night, like a demon that has entered my body.

It’s awful.

I feel like sh*t.

And that’s usually what I tell people.

“I fell like hell.”

When the pain pills are working, my answer shifts to, “I’m doing alright, but it’s only because of the hydrocodone.”

I think that response kind of embaresses my boyfriend though. He’s always hushing me. Telling me to stop telling everyone I’m on drugs.

I feel like it’s important to note that though. I feel like people should understand that the only reason I’m currently able to stand upright and have a conversation with them is because I’m on a constant stream of opioids.

Lest they think I’m cured. Or they think I’m not that sick.

Or I don’t know.

I guess it doesn’t really matter what they think.

But I feel the need to tell people. To put it out there: I’m in pain. All the time. And if I’m not, it’s only because I’m on drugs.

I suppose maybe it makes people uncomfortable when I respond that way.

But maybe, one day, someone will say, “How are you?” and I will finally be able to smile and say, “Good.”

And when I say it, I will be able to mean it. And they will know I mean it.

Because I wouldn’t say “Good” if it wasn’t true.