I don't know why the last week has left me feeling as if a 300-pound football player has tackled my emotions. I feel like I just lost hope over the last week. Like the permanence of dealing with this just now hit me. It is very discouraging to be in pain anyway, and this week was really awful in that respect. I think it finally hit me that there may not be an answer. I kept hoping that there would be some way to manage the pain and be able to go on with my life, but it is not happening. I naively thought that by the end of J-term, I would know what to do and/or be cured or at least in a remission period of the RSD. That, unfortunately, never happened.
In the past week, I have gone from anger/frustration to blaming myself for the pain. I know that's a bad habit to get into, but the truth is that it was easier to blame myself than to think about how out of control of the pain levels I really am. I kept telling the doctor on Friday that "I really tried to be good" at CSUN (which is true, I tried not to push myself too hard.) I was good about sitting when I needed to. I even avoided the concierge floor where the tables cramped my leg too bad and caused pain every time someone bumped them. This was particularly a bad place when people I know talk with their hands or pound the table in emphasis. I tried not to make a huge deal out of it. I just went for coffee at breakfast and made excuses at night after the first few days. I really tried not to be a burden to others, but do not know how well I did at that.
It is so frustrating and I honestly wish my eyes would start producing tears so I could release some of these frustrations. Writing them down helps somewhat, but still, it is hard to see my way through the frustrations of being in pain. I cannot help wondering if other people would have handled it better than I did. I am trying to avoid the "why God?" questions and anger/sadness. I want to be fun to be around, not a pain (pun not intended). I want to be the "playful" person my TRW professor saw last fall. Most of all, I want to wake up and find this was a bad nightmare.
Some days, I just wish I were a little kid and did not know the horrors of this disease. I wish I knew needles as a chance to "get a Mickey-Mouse band aid" (Dad, that association helped a lot even if you didn't know that at the time). I think there should be a chronic pain group or web site with the slogan "because sometimes life just hurts".
I will get over this someday. My eyes finally leak a little, the phone rings with a wrong number and I wish the caller a good day. I take a deep breath and know that life goes on. I breathe a prayer of thanks for friends and good doctors and a request for strength. I cling to the golden thread of hope that says, "Maybe tomorrow will be brighter". And somehow, I get pleasure out of my "RSD sucks" t-shirt.