livingforrecovery

There's a moment, there's always a moment, 'I can do this, I can give into this, or I can resist it, and I don't know when your moment was, but I bet you there was one." I've been thinking a lot today about the choices I've made; it hasn't been a pleasant day at all. So yeah here I am writing again about how miserable I am. There seems to be a common theme going on around here. I write when I'm miserable and sometimes writing makes me miserable. It's a big catch 22 full circle bullshit situation. I want to write a novel and I want to use the things that have happened to me in my life as material... at the moment I'm recuperating from an accident and I've got a lot of time on my hands so today I started to write and in the process sent myself into a depression. I had to get out of here and it was ugly outside. It was just grey enough and rainy enough and cold enough to make it shitty, but not bad enough to make me stay inside. I boug

I'm not in a good way at the moment. I'm struggling with a lot of things but the biggest one is pain and the thing is I have no option except to deal with it. I have no choice. Yes, that's right, no fucking choice. I have no magic cure or pill to take. In fact the crap they have me on I may as well not even bother with because it does absolutely nothing for me. I'd like to say a big thank you to all of you out there who have managed to abuse prescription painkillers because you are the reason I am unable to have some relief right now, Thank you very fucking much. I hope you enjoyed yourselves, seriously. The thought of you numbing your inner pain gives me a real thrill. "You can't have anti-inflammatory drugs," they tell me, "because of the bleeding you had on your brain; You also have to stop taking this one drug we've given you because it is highly addictive and after a while your body finds a way to bypass it's pain masking ability

Well it has now been 4 weeks since the accident. And I've come a long way baby. I am back at my own place, finally being able to take care of myself and walk up and down my stairs. When Ashley dropped me off on Tuesday I didn't want to let him go. I cried because I've been very well taken care of by him and it was a joy to be able to see him every day. But of course it didn't take long for me to feel comforted by being in my own room, surrounded by my own things. There's something very positive as well about being able to take care of myself even though I am far from being 100% recovered. This week I've crossed the street twice where I was hit. I did it because I decided that the only way to tackle this thing is to be a fighter. I can't let fear get the best of me. I have to go on, life goes on. I don't really have much choice about that and the sooner I decide to get on with things in a positive way, the sooner I'll be okay again. There'