Buyer’s Remorse

If I had ten bucks, I’d try my hand at making another layout. I need something for this winter/fall. But I don’t have ten dollars. I spent my money on leather wallets by Coach, Halloween Yankee candles and sticker books that never came in the mail.

I have the perfect layout that I need to convert to a WordPress theme, but I don’t have the cash to make it possible.

I am also contemplating moving everything to sophistwords.com. Just trashing this site completely and starting over from scratch. Not re-inventing myself, but starting everything over. Typical me. People know about this place and actually like it, and I want to start anew. Or leave completely. Ghosts from the past are cluttering my hit counter, and it’s just a matter of time before they start haunting me elsewhere.

I worked hard to clear my mind. Stop the wondering. Stop the worrying. I tell myself over and over that things will work out in the end and I am worrying for nothing, but there is that feeling in the back of my mind that something bad is going to happen. Twice I have reached for the pain medication, and it’s not there. I cannot take any tonight, even if I had it, because I am trying to even out my doses. I am trying to no longer need that crutch. It’s hard. I cannot be strong when the pain is stronger. I worked so hard to get where I am, but I cannot continue with this pain. The worst of it is not the physical aspects. It is that no one seems to believe me or care that I am hurting. They question why kids aren’t bathed, beds aren’t made, laundry is not done. They question why I am able to play on the computer and download movies for my mother when she is the reason I do not have pain management drugs to this day. I have no answers for these questions. I do what I am able. No more, no less. No matter what I am doing, I give my all in doing it, so I am exhausted at the end of the day.

Monday I have an appointment with Doc Mick again. He wants to go over my blood work, and discuss where I am going to go from here. It’s never good when two specialists target you and demand copious amounts of blood samples for tests and then tell you there is a “from here”. I wonder what the tests revealed? I wonder how I will be able to make the drive to Doc Mick’s office when I can barely sit here. I will find a way. I always do.

For now I am going to try to sleep. I am tired, but the bed is not made. There are patches of mattress sticking out in every corner. I cannot make that bed with this pain. I cannot sleep with this pain. I cannot concentrate for long periods of time with this pain. Something must be done. But no more spending money. That has to stop.

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