*I wrote this at 1am Saturday night, but I figure there is some truths to be shared within this post and I forgot to post last night. Enjoy.*
It’s never when people are around that the sadness hits… it is always when you find yourself alone for the night, when you can’t sleep; that’s when the sadness hits.
It seems to me that all that struggle with mental health issues meet their demons in the nighttime, when they don’t have resources or people or support groups or coping mechanisms to make the demons go away.
I always struggle with my addictions at night, when there is no one to go talk to to talk you out of doing something stupid. I want to gamble late at night because the chances of winning a jackpot are the highest around 1:00am…. I usually want to drink around 9pm because that’s when I would go to karaoke. I am in pain from my surgery so smoking a bowl sounds good right now. Narcotics don’t do anything to help my pain, so I am craving my vape pen.
But it is never in mid day when I have friends and family to talk to that I need them. Sure I could wake someone up and say I am hurting, but that doesn’t seem fair to me. I am not in danger of using or consuming anything I shouldn’t, I am not gonna go gamble. So why should I ask for help?
I am frustrated because it has been a long time since I have felt this shitty and I don’t have a reason for it. Everything is going well as could be; I am admitted to university, I have a job, I have family and friends who support me, what could be wrong?
Well, that’s the kicker. Nothing has to be wrong for mental illness to strike.
I have been taking my medications every day for months now, without fail. I have been using my coping mechanisms, I haven’t been drinking. It just sucks when you’re on this euphoric cloud and then depression kicks my cloud’s ass and now I’m all small and sad again.
It doesn’t help that I am in a hard cast so it’s hard for me to go out for a walk or do anything active. I guess this is a pity party for myself. I should be celebrating my successes, not this downsides. I should be happy that I am alive to prove a point and prove some people wrong. But when it’s the night time, it’s hard to call the shots and take names when all you want to do is cry.
…Twenty five minutes later…
So I made myself eggs and a bagel, along with an herbal tea in hopes of feeling better. I took my narcotics because some pain relief is better than none at all. And after eating, I do feel a little better.
It feels good to get out of my room for a change of pace because it can easily become toxic staring at the same four walls over and over again.
I have at least one more month of this non weight bearing crap and then I think I have to go into a boot after this. I am hoping I can just be normal, but I better do this shit the right way because there’s no way in hell I could afford surgery #4 on this foot.
For those of you who don’t know, I used to work for a naval shipyard and I broke my foot on the job. The Navy paid for the first two surgeries, but this last one wasn’t “directly related” to my first injury (even though it was) so they didn’t pay for this third surgery.
My mom made it abundantly clear to me that there is no option to have surgery #4 and without my parents’ footing the bill, I am literally screwed. So I really have to do what the doctor’s tell me to do to avoid another surgery. Plus, in my humble opinion, three surgeries in less than three years is entirely too much invasion for a 23 year old to go through, but I had to. The pain I was in was debilitating and I couldn’t walk. I am looking forward to the day that I can start running long distance again without pain, well my lungs will bother me, but nothing my asthmatic airways can’t handle!
Now I am a little loopy on the pain pills, so I am feeling a-ok. I am happy about the way things are going in my life. I am changing for the better and I hope that is apparent through my writings if you have been following my blog for any length of time. And even if you don’t see a change, that’s okay. I know when I talked to Diego yesterday, he didn’t see a difference in me. Maybe in my next post, I will write about the changes I have bee through in the past few months as a reflection of how I used to be versus now.
As sad and upset as I was earlier, those feelings have faded which I am happy about. They may be back to play sometime soon but I will never know when. All I know is that I must feel my feelings and I did so. I didn’t fight the feelings of sadness, but I did question them. I reasoned that I was sad because I am no longer using weed or alcohol in my life, nor gambling, and I missed aspects of all of those things. It wasn’t anything anyone could have done to make me feel better, so I am glad I went through the sadness alone.
I am happy I did not cave in to my vices. I am happy I gave Diego all my weed and alcohol so I don’t have any temptations at home. Even if I were feeling like this at Diego’s (which I am not), I would have woken him up and told him about my cravings and urges to ensure nothing happened. I always think it’s good to have a backup plan in all aspects because not having a backup plan could mean losing your sobriety. I am not sure if I will always be sober or not, but for right now, this is my life.
It’s the little things in life that make me happy now. For example, I am happy now because my tummy is full of good food, I am sipping on my favorite herbal tea which is Tazo’s cinnamon baked apple spice tea (it tastes like warm apple pie), and I am vaping my favorite nicotine juice which is strawberry watermelon, which I know smoking is terrible for me, but it feels so damn good after a long day.
Wrapping this up, because sleep is coming soon.