Thoughts of Suicide 12/31/2017

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So my Sonny boy David came home after a long shift at work. He works at the Bay, a very nice restaurant located on Santa Rosa beach. They cater to the more affluent in the area. So sweet Days (as I like to call him) comes in. Lance and I were in bed attempting to sleep. This never works as planned as I toss and turn for a while. I hear him come in and am quick to my feet to visit with him. Trying to get as much David time as I can.

So we say hi, hug etc. I sit at the breakfast bar and ask him how his day went. He says “Mom, a guy I work with killed himself” I ask how old? He says I’m not sure late 20’s early 30’s I say damn that is terribly sad, as I think how devastated his poor family is over this loss the day before New Years Eve. David says” Well you know holidays sometimes get the better of people”. I tell him I hope he never feels that alone in life because he always has us, and we need him.

Then I thought about it, several months ago I was taking a medication I’ll just call it A. A disease modifying drug since this recent severe flare up I was having. The medication had me very out of sorts and just miserable about the person Ive become. I was sleeping constantly and barely strong enough to get from the couch to the bathroom. Life as I knew it was FUCKED!

During this time I became despondent. I woke up every morning wondering what fresh hell was going to take place. The pain was mind numbing. Dr’s push pain meds and theres only so much of that shit you can take before the body becomes tolerant and BOOM you wake up a full blown addict. I saw what it did to my sister’s life and refuse to go down that rabbit hole.

At this point 46, unable to work because I’m in severe pain and high from pain meds. I was starting to feel like a burden on my family. I could barely get out of bed. What use was I to any of them? Ive always been the doer. I worked, cleaned house, cooked etc. Now I was nothing but a lump on the couch.

I admit I was contemplating how long I could go on like this? I mean how long do people lay there doing nothing and bringing nothing to the table before checking out?

I thought long and hard how? The only thing I could think would be to just O.D, no pain etc. Just drift off to sleep and that would be it. Then I thought about my religious background. I was raised Pentecostal. We just don’t do suicide unless we want an eternity in hell. That and Ive always been of the belief that God calls us home when our job here was done. I’ve believed that since my former husband Bob passed of cancer. When he was sick he would say I just need to stay around until the boys are grown. While we would have given anything to have him around longer, his job was done and he wound up passing at home surrounded by all of us. When I go I would like the same send off. So with all of this in my head I think my job isn’t done here. I’m here for a reason. Lance and my boys need me, somebody needs me. I have to keep fighting to make my days count.

At this point I realize that I need to stop being ON. I need to scale it back and enjoy whatever I have left. When I do go, I don’t want to be remembered for being a high strung bitch. I want people to think of me and say wow what a dynamic lady.

I had a friend of mine from years ago (that Bob and I worked with)  Jerry tell me that I was very strong and an inspiration to people. Little did he know I needed to hear that, just at that moment.

So if I’m here for Lance, the boys, or maybe someone reading this blog Im doing something. I’m staying active. Not in the same sense I was, but I’m still of service to people around me.

How selfish would I be to take the easy way out and commit suicide when someone needs me? The boys and Lance give me purpose and I got something to say. So here I am still plugging along waiting on a cure.

When Shit Gets Real

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Today started with much of the same. Woke with raging headache so rather than lay in bed contemplating how shitty it is to wake in pain, I decided to get up and get going.

So I got up, ventured into the kitchen and immediately my pups were on alert. Mom’s up she needs to feed us. We need to piss and shit hurry……

It was the usual suspects Hamm crying because he’s starving, meanwhile he’s about 15 lbs overweight. Wiggles snorting and grunting because he’s an Olde English and they cant breath. Daisy my GSD soon to be service dog flailing about with cone on and cast on leg. About a month ago she ran out and hit a car. Yep, you read that right she hit a car breaking her left front leg. Then there is little Sampson the sweetest neediest American bulldog ever.

After feeding Miss Crazy (thats what I call Daisy since her run in with the car) I walked them all. SUCCESS everyone including Miss Crazy pooped and peed. At this point I realized I was envious of them. They all get fed, watered ,loved on and medical care when need be and the only thing that’s expected is to guard the house. I was also envious of the fact they all had a bowel movement. Its been four days for this gal and needless to say Im tired of being full of shit.

Is it too much to ask to be regular? I think not. They don’t tell you that when you get diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis. They don’t say hey just an FYI you may not be able to poop for days on end and may become impacted.

Luckily thus far I had not actually had to receive medical care for this issue. So there I am taking a laxative and hoping for the best and now I wait……

I do have to say when I do have a bowel movement its a major event in my house. Having to take a laxative is not like a normal bowel movement. As you know I hadn’t went in several days. Needless to say its days worth of shit. You know what happens when you have days upon days of poop collecting in your stomach? It becomes hard. Like big rocks having to move through a small tube in your intestine. When my tummy starts cramping its time to go. Luckily Im not alone in this my dear hubby Lance comes in the bathroom if it gets painful. Mind you I was not always a free shitter, I was always very private about such matters, but the pain is so intense it feels like I’m going to pass out. I’m ok with the DH being there after all he wasn’t present for my boys birth so what the hell, he can be there when I birth my turds. Its an experience if anything. If anything MS has been a humbling experience for me.