Survived Again

Medical testing is not anyone's idea of a good time. I figured I should start off with that so no one gets pissed off. I just know that my terror of something as benign as a sleep study goes beyond the typical. It's one of those things. I do not fret over needles anymore and they tend to be unpleasant as well.

Sleep studies are actually more painful for me. The tech was even kinder than most yet the process of sticking electrodes to my head is painful no matter how gentle the tech is. That part is easy to explain. The tougher part is explaining exactly why sleeping on camera freaks me out. I know that no one can use an EEG to read my mind but it's invasive at least for me.

Add in the fact that I was already exhausted and the idea of sleeping on a schedule and you have the ingredients for a train wreck. That is where this tech bent over backwards to make it work. She let me set the schedule and so I knew that I was capable of sleeping.

The funny part is how the intense pain drove away part of my panic. As long as the headache eased, I could survive the worst case six hours of boredom. In fact, my usual sleep pattern of little naps held. I had easy access to the time on my tablet so I could confirm the passage of time.

Getting back to the point, the hardest part was walking in there to face my fears. Whatever you fear, you deserve a pat on the back when you face them. That happens to be the worst part every time.

A Smidge Better

The world isn't ending. The sky is not falling. My mood simply went very dark for a while. A long time ago, I was taught to dislike myself. I was taught about good things and bad things that you could be in life. Looking back, it isn't surprising that I had far more of the bad traits than the good ones. I liked the wrong things especially where my diet was (and is) concerned but it went beyond that. I was destined to be unloved and to have bad things happen to me.

I thank God that I met Melissa and learned that I was loved for who I am. Sometimes, I'm surprised by how few illusions she has about me. A lot of those bad traits simply are not bad to her point of view. She knew that I enjoy eating and drinking beyond the point that is healthy before she fell in love with me. We're compatible like that.

I went to her full of darkness and confessed those bad traits. It was funny how petty it all seemed out in the light. I don't mean my darkness but the things I had used to justify a moment or two of self loathing. I was worried that I was drinking too much and that triggered two reactions in me. The first was my hoarding instinct. I was digging into and taking the risk of depleting my supply of something. The second was the deeply ingrained fear of being an out of control glutton. After all, I spent most of my young life on diets that made me crave food more than anything. At the same time, I was taught that craving food was wrong.

Here are the actual facts. I am in control of my drinking according to someone who would recognize the signs very easily. Belgian Ales happen to be one of my favorite things in the world. I have been drinking more than usual because Belgian Ales were on sale including all of my favorites. Once exposed to light, I realized that Belgian Ales are the chocolate chip cookies of beverages to me. I am far worse about chocolate chip cookies than Belgian Ales because chocolate chip cookies tend to be cheaper.

For a little while longer, Belgian Ales will be on sale. I should enjoy them now while I can. I won't drink them until I'm drunk because that would be a waste. You can't taste the finer flavor notes while drinking that much. It took me 12 hours to go through a 750 ml bottle of Ommegang Abbey style ale. That's not getting drunk or wasting anything. I tasted every drop. If we should run low, we might even go out and get more.

Being in constant pain, I must have something to enjoy. Belgian Ale is a lovely treat. If only I could have some Belgian chocolate and German food but I'm not getting those. We're not made of money and my sense of entitlement is not that oversized.

I'm okay. The darkness has been purged for now.

A Different Sort of Pain

I haven't slept well in a while again but it isn't the usual pattern. I am not afraid to sleep and dream now. I welcome the escapism. I welcome sleep as an escape from being me.Right now, I cannot stand myself. I am a greedy whiner who can never have enough. I have managed to become the guy who wants to have his cake and eat it.

My cake is Belgian or Belgian style beer. My favorite liquor store had a tasting of Belgian beers and then put them on sale. I live for this event to a surprising extent. Most of my new friends show up and we chat as we drink beer and eat cheese. I noticed the potential problem that same night. We spent a fair amount of money on beer that won't last very long. Every time I take a sip, I experience the expected delight and then I feel a loss.

Intellectually,  I know that the sale is still going. We could afford to replace every drop I have drunk so far. The problem has nothing to do with the beer. My problem is that I do not like myself at all. Being alone with myself is a grueling experience. Indulging in Belgian beers makes it a little easier. If I explained it to Melissa like that, I am sure she would get me more. .bank account willing. Having that kinda power scares me.

The same metaphorical voices in my head that make me ashamed of so many other things make me afraid of being a crass manipulator. The God-awful truth behind the title of this entry is that I am getting a break from the worst of the physical pain. It's not always one or the other because there are plenty of days filled with physical and emotional pain.

When I get a break from the worst of the physical pain, I think I have some need to process the other bad stuff. The current processing method of self hatred isn't working. My head is filled with bad ideas like causing myself intentional physical pain.

When all my ideas are bad, that is a legitimate excuse to do nothing.

The old saying about getting out of a deep hole applies here. Step 1:Stop digging!

Nightmares 103

I was back in high school this time standing at my locker at the end of another school day. For some reason, I was in no hurry and I remembered that I had graduated. The few papers and books in the locker felt more like artifacts and I was back to my true age. Someone cleared their throat behind me and I turned to face her.

The girl who had guided my very first steps away from the life of self destruction I had known for so long was standing there smiling. Her eyes took in my cane and absorbed it without comment. She just greeted me like an old friend.

I knew what I wanted to say immediately.  "While I have the chance, I wanted to thank you for all that you did. You saveme. "

She smiled in her way. "You thanked me before and I appreciated it but it wasn't necessary. You helped me too and you were a good friend. "

"I guess I forgot telling you that before. It's been so long since I've seen you. "

"That won't be a problem anymore.  I just got a good job nearby so we will be seeing more of each,other. "

That's when I woke feeling disappointed that it was only a dream. My friend remains mysteriouslymissing. It was a good dream and it reminded me that she probably knows how muc7she mattered and why. Dreams like that are an antidote to my nightmares.

Nightmares 102

After I could stand no more, I forced together my little bits of courage and went to bed. It wasn't easybut I went to bed and stayed there until I had slept a couple of hours. It took a few false starts but I managed to sleep without remembering a single dream.

The truly scary part of the nightmares is how I react while awake. I felt the shame of my father's disapproval until I managed to sleep again. The only way to treat yourself for nightmares is to get some undisturbed sleep. I am still ashamed but now it's because I let the proverbial old man beat me down.

I want to be free of the poison but it was decades of disapproval before I got away. Then,  I made the mistake of trusting again a few times over. It was worse five years ago. Back then I got the urge to kill myself every time we spoke or I had a nightmare. I have done some healing since then.

It took decades before I was able to call the emotional abuse exactly what it was. ?

Maybe I should follow my own advice and take the time to heal. Just one foot in front of the other taking one step at a time.

Nightmares 101

The pain was intense as it always seems to be when I consider sleeping. In order to let myself sleep, I need to be desperate. That's when I sit still and let Madeline curl up on my lap. For some reason, she prefers to nap on me. I must sit very still or else she hits me with the guilt.

Once I'm sitting very still with Madeline curled up, I work on a good meditative state, Sometimes, this goes well for me.Other times,I fall fast asleep. That's when the nightmares can come. There were two I remember from the last batch. I believe the conventional one came first. I was alone in the house and heard something moving around. Once I got the cats, I knew it wasn't them. The noise kept moving around me staying out of sight. I knew itwas ggoing to get me and clawed my way awake screaming or so I thought.

When I woke up in bed, I had forgotten staying downstairs.This time,  I thought the noise was Melissa coming home from work. I got down there to greet her and it was actually my father rooting through the secrets of my closet. He turned to face me and I could feel his disapproval like a physical thing.  I told him that I wanted his disapproval out of my life. I have never been that brave in real life but I woke in a panic.

I had to throw Madeline off my lap and move around to wake up for sure. When the pain returned,  I medicated and meditated but I  refused to sleep. Even when Melissa came home for real,  I was too scared to sleep. Close to 12 hours later, Ii'm still too afraid to risk sleep I don't know which dream was worse.

PDD: March 2013

I was filled with a terrible sense of dread. It was pain doc day and the last few had gone badly for me. As usual,  I lost all ability to sleep starting Sunday for 24 hours before my Monday appointment It was as if every defense had gone wrong so that I was in as much pain as possible.

When I arrived, my pain meds kicked in more effectively than usual. It seems I was euphoric from not sleeping. I was pleasant with the drug testers whom I normally treat with all the contempt that I can summon. We were all laughing about things that usually make me want to grind my teeth. My usual doctor was back and that was nice. They let me skip the blood pressure test because they get skewed readings from the agony. I was pleased as punch.

Instead of having to wait for hours as my symptoms spiked,  I saw my normal doctor who picked up right where we left off. As I had hoped, the extreme pain trend stopped when I concentrated on the basics of taking my meds at the proper times while getting enough rest. Unfortunately,  the good mood couldn't last forever. The pain and fatigue hit me like a truck when I got home.

Nonetheless, it was a victory to have the appointment go well.