Unfortunately, my chronic illness has been rearing its ugly head for the last few days. I've been livid, agitated, sad, weeping, confused, and everything in between. All I want to do is sit on my couch, watch television, and go out for a cigarette once in awhile. There's house work and food shopping to be done, and I can't even think about it right now.
Paulie and my family are wonderful, as always. They tell me they love me, make sure I take my medication, and text encouragement and cute videos when they are able.
Tomorrow is Tuesday July 21st. Dad will take me to McLean for an ECT treatment. It just can't come soon enough. Although I loathe general anesthesia, I know that I will feel myself again after the procedure. Or so I hope. There's always that fear in the back of my mind that this time the ECT will stop being effective, that the crying and the agitation and the rage won't stop, and that the wanting to cut myself will push itself to the front of my brain, and spill out onto my wrists.
The "distress tolerance" skills that I've been employing the past few days have been watching episodes of Star Trek:TNG, the BBC Robin Hood (yay Richard Armitage!), and reading romance novels. They help keep me focused on "fun things", even when this illness is trying its hardest to kick my ass into freaking out, or even hurting myself.
Paulie and I had a talk this morning. We just kept saying "This is a chronic illness; it's going to do this once in awhile."
And so I ride this wave, pray that ECT will help me tomorrow, and keep my thumb hovering over the Netflix remote, swapping between the USS Enterprise and Sherwood Forest......
