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Tuesday, March 1, 2011

Both Sides Now

I'm starting this blog ahead of time so I can track the progress. When I post I'll change the date to its current.

In wk 4 of detox (2/24), all the pain is back in glory hallelujah. I seem more concerned with getting comfort than anything else. Sleep is short periods- 3 or 4 hours at a time. I'm bored, distracted or sick of anything in short order. Can't concentrate to read- or draw- because pain flares if I'm at rest too long so I can't get to the zone. How the hell am I ever gonna deal with this without the bastard drugs? But with the bastard drugs I was a zombie! I don't even have a fully-operative brain yet, which became clear to me this morning. I'm far from detoxed; I thought the hand jitters were done. This is a much longer deal than I thought it would be and I don't have time for it. I'm moving in 4 weeks!

And pain is tiring. The drugs were tiring, too, but I didn't have a jumping person inside saying, "Hey, do something!" on the drugs. There's a volition to Do again, and while that's great, I'm not physically up for it. When my brain's running better I'll figure it out.


2/26 Twice in the last week the Fentanyl patches came to mind. Could I just slap a couple on and get a few days' relief as a break? The moment the pain subsided I'd be right back to it like the junkie I am at heart. So, nope, not an option. And I went thru Hell to get rid of it. Ain't doing that again. This has to be figured out and I can't do that yet, so it's just shut up and suffer time. I keep telling myself I'm better than my pain. I can fix this, given time. There are better ways, there have to be. I'll have my brain, and in my new place I'll have bookshelves and I can spend hours, days, poring over all the loves of my life that have been boxed and unshelved for 19 years. And I have the intertubes. I'll find it. I'm the most stubborn Highlander Viking around. I'll fix this.



2/28 Okay, the jitterbug legs are attacking. Stepping down to 5 mg seems to get bad at the 14 hour point...junkie shit lite. Itchy but not terribly itchy legs and arms. High annoyance over nothing. I could use a punching bag. Or drums. Drums would be better. Every new bit of this, every little twist, pisses me so off and fires up a blast furnace of hatred for opiates. When I started this things were so different; a totally different purpose. I was incensed that pain relief was being criminalized. I was quitting as protest. I could never launch a protest on those drugs. And the new Medicare insurance was giving me a hard time about the Fentanyl, so I said Screw It All. But my view has radically changed. I'll take the pain and keep my brain, if that's okay. But that's just my choice.

3/1 It's March!!! That alone is an accomplishment. And it's sunny and dry. It's still early, but I think I can function today. I had 7 whole hours of sleep, no leg dancing, no hellacious pains. This past month has been a trip, sometimes pretty literally. I'm back in Kansas, so to speak. As long as I can keep stress levels low, make steady progress in packing, keep my head, not get injured and keep up the PT, I should be able to handle this move. 25 days. Pain or no pain, it's happening. I'm not 100% clear- still a week of one-a-day to go- but the worst is over in kicking the drugs. Gotta stay focused on the good; gotta push myself.

Living in constant pain is a misery, but there are worse things. Like not being able to think straight, being in a dope haze, having no hope of things getting better. When you're drugged so heavily, you lose control of so much. Coming back isn't easy, either. But there's so much more of life if you can just live with the pain and not give it power.

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