Really. Fucking. Tense.
The past...five?...weeks have been just so surreally awful that I don't even know what to do with myself (and neither does anyone else).
At first the physical pain was pretty intense, and I think the concussion kept me from processing things much.
The day before The Incident, I had my second interview for my current job. A fairly physically demanding, stressful, and low-paying job that I started three days after being brutally assaulted. I couldn't even tell you how I pulled that off, but I did, and for a while just surviving day-to-day was so all-consuming that I couldn't think about anything too much.
The past two weeks though, two things happened that in any other universe would be good: I stopped being in so very MUCH physical pain (although a lingering crushing headache stayed with me, along with my degenerating SI joint's bitter protests against such wrenching and straining), and I got the hang of my job to the point that I can do it on autopilot, and have some downtime.
And reader, my mind has done nothing good with that. I stopped being able to park the car. Like, I don't even mean parallel parking, which I am normally pretty good at, I mean parking spaces looked too small. Pickup trucks and SUVs could clearly fit in identical spaces nearby, but I would go to pull the Prius into one and it would start to close in, and for a while I just parked really far away from things.
I started to hate the grocery store, because it contains the soup aisle. My...is he still my oldest, now that he's gone? The teenager, my first baby, he had braces and often lived on Chunky Soups. When Middly got the flu he asked for ramen and I had a panic attack at the Kroger when I walked into that aisle and saw the rows of cans and ended up drinking so much that night that I threw up and decided to cool it with the alcohol.
So I stopped sleeping, and started running again, and lost twenty pounds.
Yesterday the headache was so bad that I was hiding in a dark room, and Hotter asked if I thought my blood pressure might be high. I reminded him that I had chronically LOW blood pressure, and he reminded ME that it had been 165/100 in the Emergency Room. I said well I was in a lot of pain. He pointed out that I still was. So I dragged myself to the FUCKING Kroger and offered up my arm to the biometrics kiosk, and...well, shit.
I got lucky and got an appointment with my GP herself today, who asked me what had happened between January's bronchitis and now that every single doctor's office where I'd been seen had noted an elevated BP. I told her, and showed her the police report, because I feel like other people might have a hard time believing what happened, it's just that bad, but other people don't seem to be in as much denial as I am.
Then she took my blood pressure and said wow, well, this is not good for even someone withOUT your connective tissue disease, but once you factor that in...I won't make you go to the ER if you promise to start taking this prescription TODAY. It's also used to treat PTSD, which you also appear to have, and really who wouldn't?
So I did, and the headache is gone, but this is still my life.
This is all just ever so much BULLSHIT.
Sent from The Precious