Keeping a low profile. Indeed, I think come March, this weblog will celebrate its 10 year anniversary by going on indefinite hiatus (I will keep up Facebook if you care.) In any event, things worthy of documentation are going on. Here they are:
- Chicago was my year to get my shit together. I am pretty sure it had the opposite effect. I picked up smoking as a habit, gained 50lbs, and ended up coming away from the 312 having a near primal fear-dislike of the place I am from. I literally have a mild terror at the thought of even seeing that place again. Every image I associate with that year comes with a grey wave of bad feeling. Really bad feeling. Maybe in time that will all fade. I hope it does. Concurrent with my reflexive aversion to it all is a tingle of feeling that such things are mostly hysterics, and they will pass. Until then, I can only think about how unpleasant life was for me on returning. I have tried to focus on the positives - of which there are more than a few - but the positives ain't winning yet.
One positive, and it is a VERY large one, was that I accomplished kicking opiates there. That is primarily what I wanted to do in my time there, and I think I will be well served to remember that. I needed to be "home" to do that I think in retrospect. I couldn't have done it in my NorCal Hovel Of Solitude. I had to have my peeps there just in case. They were. They are still there and I think that will ultimately help me get over all the other stuff I experienced there which has me so down on Sausage City.
What is unfortunate is that I am, at this very moment, in position of a new prescription for an opiate. A 24/7 opiate. Back in the saddle again - or at least I will be if I fill the Rx. I had a pretty intense doctor visit in which I basically had confirmed for me what I have long known: I am never going to feel better, I am never going to get my old life back, and at this point, I need to do what I need to do to mitigate my circumstances.
The sucky thing is I left CA for IL in the best shape of my post-sickness life. I was a vegetarian, non-smoker, and relatively active. Kicking Fentanyl meant dropping meds and dropping meds means feeling like shit. Feeling like shit means no active-ness. Falling off the wagon on the veggies and the smoking are probably the easiest thing to fix, but I am yet to do that even though I keep telling myself I need to. Here I am now on the cusp of calling the monkey back for a remount, and I have none of the other stuff going for me that I had when I left. This makes me wonder: WHY THE HELL DID I GO THROUGH ALL OF THAT UPHEAVAL? To be sitting here having to fish around for something to redeem it all is a major bummer.
There is the possibility that going back on the hard/good meds will make me feel good enough to be active and such again. That would be great. I have learned much about what kind of shape I am actually in, and I am reconciled to the idea that pain will always be with me, and that there is no shame in mitigating it using whatever the doctors think is good. I gave it a full year of trying to live without the hard/good stuff, and I know in my heart, my quality of life has suffered. I literally live to get home as quick as I can so I can take my muscle relaxers in the amount needed for real relief. I can't do that when at work or out in the car because that quantity usually makes me catatonic within a matter of minutes and puts me on the mat. It also puts me on the mat for 10 hours or so. This little work sleep work sleep work sleep things sucks. It is no life. If getting back a few hours a week off the mat is possible by adding opiates, at this point, I am ready for it. I can't go on like I have been. I take 18 pills a day, sleep 10-12 hours a day, and spend the rest of the time fantasizing about being able to sleep. No life yo. If I can go down to very few pills and a patch, and gain more 'good time', then the concerns about being a junkie kinda evaporate for me. I will always be sick. I would rather be a pain-free junkie than an illin' zombie. Not all that tough a call - at least on that level. We shall see.
- I think I am bummin' a little because my sweet ride has been abused to the point where it needs major service again. I am gonna need a huge chunk of my tax return to be able to get it back in full-roadworthy condition. I ain't gonna lie: I love that car. I love seeing the Cali outback in it, and while it is proving a very expensive toy, it is a toy I very much love and it enables me to do many things I very much love. I am hoping to get it back together soon and get back out into the wild soon. At one point I would have posted huge photo essays here on ye old weblogge; but these days, I spare the log server all those files and I dump them on Facebook. Come to think of it, I think FB did more to kill my little weblog than anything else. I never do longform on FB, but as you can see, I do very little of it here anymore either. Should my longform muse relocate me, I will take this log out of hibernation. I hope that is what happens; but since I know myself pretty well, I make no promises. Time will tell.