ow

So here I am at a coffee house again, spilling my guts. I'm tired of the pain. So, so tired. I thought maybe it would get better as the day wore on, but it has not improved. I am looking longingly at the restroom. I know that as soon as I get up from a sitting position, the pain will shoot through my lower spine again and I won't be able to straighten up. I know that the same thing will happen as I get up from the loo. Every move comes with a punishment. This is the worst it's been in a very long time, and it makes me want to scream. Took a Percocet at 12:00. Just took another one at 19:40. Had only moderate relief from the first pill, and it wore off quickly. After this, I only have two pills left. If I were a horse, they'd have shot me by now.

I don't want people to look at me and say, "Oh, poor lady, I wonder why she can't walk?" or "She doesn't look that old. Why does she have a cane?" I just want to be seen as a person. The problem is, right now, I don't even see myself as a person. I see myself as a soul attached to a body that doesn't work correctly. My soul wants to dance, and run, and swim, and ride a bicycle, and climb mountains, and slide on the ice, and hang by my legs from a tree. My body can't even make it to the bathroom without pain.

But pain, like everything else, including anxiety, is temporary. I think. No, I mean, I know I've had bad days like this and I have recovered. I will recover again. I have to. But just like a panic attack, right now, all I can think about or feel is the pain, and it feels like I've always been in pain and always will be.

I'm really just bitching. Don't mind me. I gotta pee. I'll be right back.

Okay, back. I guess I didn't really have much more to say. I'm kind of in a fog. Second dose of drugz hasn't quite kicked in yet. Maybe I'll write something more coherent later.