It’s 1 am and I can’t sleep. I spent the day driving on around Massachusetts for my DIVINE study (I can never remember the acryonym, so I will look it up later). My first stop was Stoughton, I was hesitant to go as Sunday night my back crapped out on me. Tomorrow is going to be a huge snowstorm so I think the “switch” is in the on position until it starts or stops snowing. Anyway the pain is so bad I can hardly move. Today was a little better as I could get dressed without too much torture. I got to Stoughton ok. I went to Mcdonalds for something to eat and then went to Mashpee. I figure I get it done today as tomorrow there was no way I was driving in a blizzard and I can possibly have the day off. I got half way down route 3 when my leg is screaming at me. But I was half way down the cape and if I stopped now, I knew I wouldn’t be able to go further. I got to Mashpee about an hour later. No real traffic which was good. I had some trouble getting out of the car. My leg wanted to divorce me at this point but it still allowed me to stand on it. I dropped off the tubes to a nice fella and slowly made my way out. I went to the Stop and Shop to use the bathroom and get something to drink and take some vicodin to ease my pain. I honestly have no idea what I was thinking. I could barely walk straight, doing the “thorazine” shuffle. I took a little walk around the store just to stretch my legs as I knew it would be at least another 2 hours before I got home. I bought some powerade, sprite, and scratch tickets. Then I went home. Luckily no traffic the whole way home, least until I hit Quincy. My boss called me halfway on the way back on route 3 wondering when the rest of the alk phos’s for another study would be done. They would have been done Sunday but the computer went down and then my back and after driving for 6 hours today, it wasn’t going to get done today. Tomorrow the city is going to be hit with a nice snowstorm so if it really materializes, I probably won’t go in, but if it isn’t bad, I will. I know I really need to rest my back. Even as I am typing this my back is yelling at me to lie down. I can’t because the demons have gotten hold of my head again.
To most people I seem like an ok person, who isn’t literally dying in pain of some sort. Physical pain is one thing, mental pain or psychache is quite another. Psychache is a word created by the world’s greatest suicidilogist, Edwin Shneidman. It means a pain that is characterized by despair, grief, sadness, hurt, shame, etc. This pain, this psychache is what causes 98% of all suicides. I have read an overwhelming number of researches on the subject and I can tell you first hand, this guy knows his stuff. No one else knows. There is a Canadian guy that developed a psychache scale. But I guess it’s only used in research because it has not moved beyond that point. Even in my own therapy, the numbers mean something but it doesn’t mean anything when you deal with it every day. I know someday I will die by my own hand. Everything I have read proves that. I just haven’t had the “guts” to go through any of my dozen plans. Every single time I get a flair up of my pain, I think of ending it. Right now I am cursing my therapist for wanting to keep me alive as I did not want to live to see the new year.
Maybe I will write more about that later…
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