The Haunting Time Is Coming Near!

The Ghoullog - Mountaintop Haunt at Cranmore, North Conway, NH

Still Unanswered Questions

No makeup. Pure, unedited pain. These are now my eyes.
Still marbled, and a touch of violet. But unable to really focus.
They go from blue, to gray to green. Depends on how much pain.
The violet always stays though. Little purple ring around my pupil.
I cry a lot. Without good reason. Or maybe it's for one, I'm not sure.
All I know for sure, I don't recognize me anymore.

I've more new medicines to take. It's incredible... With what I've already been medicated with- I should be doing backflips and theatrics for Barnum & Bailey's Circus. Or Cirque de Solelil. Either one. The fact of the matter is... I should be ok. I should be walking without problems, without a cane, without having to lean on my Dad or my sister or brother. I hate this.

I hate being with myself. I hate not being able to think clearly. I hate not being in control of ME anymore.

I know, in time, I'll be fixed.... But it's taking so long for things to get lined up and in order. Two months already, more than actually, and I'm still waiting. We can't figure out what's wrong. Why can't things just fall in to place as you do them? Does life really have to be so hard? I feel like I'm nearly to the end of the mythical rope... I know I'm really not, but it feels that way. It's just... I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired and medicated. It's the only way I have to control the pain, the spasms... But it's not improving. Rather, it has... Just slightly. All the medications, all the shots should have helped. Should have. I want to why they haven't.

I'm seeing a new doctor hopefully within the next week- and maybe he'll be able to tell me whether or not he can fix me. He's an Osteopath and Neurosurgeon. Don't get me wrong- my own doctor is wonderful. The man has magic hands- and typically he can have me fixed up in no time. I don't know what's different this one. We know what the end result is- torn ligaments, torn muscles, pinched and severely inflamed nerves. But the why is still elusive. Why I'm in so much pain. Why I'm not getting any better. Why all this resting in this blasted recliner day in and day out isn't helping me get better. Why none of this is helping even remotely.

It's like... I don't have any say in my body anymore. It does what it wants, when it wants. I haven't driven my own truck since April 16th. I haven't gone out with any of my friends. I really can't.... Though I'd like to. I want to be able to sit and chat and catch up with some folks. But I can't even stand to listen to the own thoughts that are bumbled, jumbled and an absolute mess inside my own head. Besides, when I DO start to talk, most of the time, I don't realize I mumble.

Literally, I mumble and slur. Thanks medications. I'm trying to hold a coherent thought- and most of the time I lose it. Especially if someone says anything- a sound, a dog bark, computer noise. Boom. Gone. Thoughtless and dying of loneliness. New ideas spring up, and just as quickly they're gone. I'm used to being able to thought process through things- I'm a good problem solver. Right now, I couldn't even find my way out of a paper bag. Even with a drawn map. And flashing lights clearly pointing the way. Roadmapped for me.... I don't have a chance in hell finding my way out.

I hurt. All the time. I do not tell you this to make you feel sorry for me. I tell you this to explain why I haven't been really talking to anyone. I've been so frustrated with myself, I don't want anyone else to see me so... Weak. So helpless. Out of control. Not myself. That's what I'm scared of.... If you don't see me as you're used to- you'll run. And not to anyone specifically... Just in general.

I know typically I'm the joker, I'm the laid back easygoing body. Now... I'm a lump on a log. Most days I don't want to bother with my makeup. I throw on clothes that fit that aren't hard to get into. I've lost nearly 30 lbs because of the medications- they make my appetite next to nothing. I've gone from a size 18 when I came home 8 weeks ago, to a 14 bordering on 12 now. I'm cold almost all the time. It's the weight loss thing, unless I'm moving around (which isn't happening much) or I'm sitting out in the sun. Heh, the medications also advise me not to do that. I think. I saw it on one of the labels somewhere, but I can't find the bottle. Not sure if I'm still taking it. I don't want to dig through my bag to try and read and find it.

I miss working. I miss being on the phones, talking to people. The interactions. I miss all the aspects of what I used to be. What I will be again sometime... I hope. I know I'll get back there again- it's just.... I need it to be soon.


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