Yikes! I continue to suffer with extremely painful feet. The less I walk, the better but I dislike it so. Taking turns gobbling motrin or pain pills just to stay sane. You can see the mighty bruise on Mr. Left Foot. For some reason, Mr. Right Foot feels almost as bad. I really banged and twisted them when I fell Last Monday. Yeah, it's been over a week now. I was hoping for much improved pain relief and mobility.
I had cranio work done this Monday and I have acupuncture tomorrow, so I'm trying all the tricks and techniques to heal up. I'm a wee bit frustrated.
Another snow day, so my 12 yr old is home again. My cleaning lady friend is cleaning out an upstairs room so I have a place to lay down, rest and sleep. Yeah, climbing the stairs will exacerbate my feet but I have no other options. All the downstairs rooms have no vacancy.
Our television gave off a sudden small "pop" and promptly died. Argh. Now, we have a new one that is making my eyes hurt, giving me headaches and making me nauseous. Hence, the immediate need for a safe, non-toxic room. So sick last night, that I had to wake up my 12, get him to move to the top bunk and ask if I could sleep on the bottom bunk. I hated to do it but I had no other options.
I did sleep very well and went to bed way early to get away from the sick living room.
So, my friend recognizes my "environmental illness", as my doctor calls it, but makes fun of me when she talks about it to others. Note to self: Get better, kinder friends.
Another revealing therapy session this week. Like last week's appointment, highly relevant issues surface. Lots to process and sort out. Therapy feels like a full time job without a paycheck. I've been half-ass monitoring the effects of my abuse and how often it plays a part in my everyday life. The simple answers: daily and too much. Sigh. I wish someone, other than my therapist understood this. My DID/ MPD friends are the only ones that can truly get it.
The only place I switch is at therapy, seriously, the one place where it is okay to be me or whoever, and talk about all the various thoughts, feelings and memories is the Office. Hmmm. One entire hour a week I get to be myself. All the other hours I'm just a fraction of self. I feel cheated writing that, like, most people can be themselves to a much larger degree than myself. Doesn't seem fair, does it?
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