I truly know what people mean when they say they are sick and tired of being sick and tired.
I am tired of the random crying and random anxiety. At this very moment, I'm feeling okay. However, I never know when I'll suddenly break down crying. The crying then seems to seek a reason to be sad.
It seems to go to target on my Mama. I know I didn't get to grieve properly with everything even though I did grieve. Of course, I couldn't grieve missing my real Mama when she was alive because I always had to be strong to take care of her as much as I could. That always sucked.
When I say that nobody helped with her, that is not an exaggeration. People would come to help me do some things, but seriously, NOBODY helped with her.
Her doctors didn't listen to me. They NEVER listened to me. My Mama never listened to me. The only times she seemed to be lucid were when she told me to get an education and when she knew she didn't want medical treatment.
From the time I was little, she told me that she NEVER wanted to be on life support. She even said that she didn't want to be on IV liquids if she wasn't conscious.
Even though she had told me that year after year and I knew it, I still had to tell the doctor to remove the IV. I still cry at that memory. I know that I didn't kill her. However, it still feels horrible.
I was doing fine before Briana got hit in that hit and run. That started a whole month of going crazy. I can't stand being alone for too long. I HATE being alone at night. I might be okay with ONE night IF I know the person (usually Briana) is okay. But, she was gone for a whole month and then when I am expecting her to be able to come home, I have to go into the hospital and need my gallbladder removed.
Most of that was okay, although I HATED the way I felt after waking up from the anesthesia. I had been under general anesthesia before, but they had used gas both times I had been under. This time, it was only stuff they put in through the IV.
Now, Briana also gives me new information saying that our Mama said she would kill me and then kill herself. Briana said that our Mama tried to get her on board with the plan.
I know I'm definitely safe now (obviously). However, the new information doesn't make me feel any better about things.
I really would like to feel like myself again.
Sure, I had some random anxiety before, but it was with when things felt bad like being in a jail cell again - a darkness or an atmosphere that would come and go.
Now, sometimes, it comes up just randomly and it makes no sense.
I've read people's stories that this happens after going under general anesthesia and having internal operations. I see most say that it lasts about six months and I am not liking that. I don't know if they mean it lasts six months from the operation or after taking terrible drugs.
They had me on oxycodone for pain and when I was awake, it was, "okay." I was numb and I couldn't concentrate on things. However, it would give me TERRIBLE nightmares. I started having really bad dreams where my Mama would be yelling at me and so upset with me.
I've not had any good dreams or visions with her since and that doesn't help. So, I pray that good dreams or visions with her happen soon. I had one at one point and she was with my Daddy and with Marbles. Woofles was alive at the time. I had even asked where Cinder was and I was "told" that she was with Grandma and Grandpa and this made sense to me.
I also have a very sore, what was determined to be muscle, under my right rib. Muscle pain is only what makes sense to me, too. It can feel better is some positions and worse in others. It can get sore when I do activities. I can't seem to do my favorite exercise of crunches because my muscle (I sure hope) get sore.
What I really desire is to feel like myself again.