Walking backwards

What I like about working is that I have a purpose, which makes me feel like I am at least accomplishing something.  I also like the distraction, it is easier not to focus on existing pain or think about future pain when you are forced to play all nice with others.  I am a good faker that is for sure, but when it comes to honestly discussing how disturbed I am about chronic pain it is extremly difficult not to break down.  Mostly because I figure no matter what I do it absolutely changes nothing, which is rather unpleasant.  In that case, it seems there is no alternative to consider, just figuring out how to suffer silently, while at the same time not, apparently, wanting to jump off a cliff.  Which frankly, is rather asking a lot.  I can play the 'what if' game all I want, but when push comes to shove I need to have an income.  Even if I speculate on ways to do that which will reduce my pain, I still have to do so while actually holding on to the career I have currently, somehow.  That, in itself, is not a bad thing, because as I said working has its using.  I don't feel like I am wasting away, becoming mentally sluggish, by staying at home.  So good and bad. 

Obviously bad because I have no idea if I can maintain it or should.  What I absolutely loath about work is simply that it spikes up the pain by placing me in a situation for eight hours that constantly grates on my brain, which then causes the migraine to be more severe for longer.  Working the graduated return to work thing meant one day on one day off, which is finished as of tommorow... and that worked because the increase severity of the migraine I endured could then be kicked the next day.  When I return to full time that is no longer the case.  Then it is a compounding pain issue.  It is disturbing enough to realize how much more severe the pain is when working, but then to remember how much worse it will get?  Not a pleasant thought any way you look at it, but when I am not all that emotionally stable right now, it is a damned scary thought.

  There are potential options.  One keep on working anyway and see what happens.  Or try for the long term leave again, and see if it is possible to find a way to cope.  I am not sure it matters either way, in the sense that good or bad choices, strong emotions or numbness, working or not working... nothing I do makes a bit of difference in how things work out.  Such that, sure I can apply for long term leave, decide it is the right thing to do even with the wage cut, but that is assuming it would be approved, which is definately no gaurentee.  When it comes to demonstrating, even in the most extreme ways possible, that chronic pain is in fact a disability and needs to be treated with all the due care, other people simply fail to see it that way, the people who ought to be considering my welfare anyway.  Which makes me thing that either the long term will be outright declined or that I will go on it for a few months and it will be cut... and I will be exactly where I am now, faced with working fulltime or not at all, when I am not ready to.  I know for a fact my mother would say to try anyway, so at least she is on my side, and certainly people reading this blog are generally on my side as they are going through the same thing.  Enough to make me not feel so isolated.  Not enough for me to feel like I will be accomplishing anything but delaying the inevitable.  A part of me thinks if I throw myself back into work maybe this time the satisfaction of working will outweight the continous pain.  Another part of me thinks that is pretty delusional considering if I could not do it when I was at least coping on an emotional level then how could I possibly think I could do it now, when the best emotional state I seem to be able to endure work is by numbness?

I mean the futility of my recent experiences it damned disheartening really.  The fact that I could be in a place where I really wanted to kill myself and that absolutely changed nothing, is in itself damned depressing.  Such that when I was told I was ok'd to return I really thought about it again.  Then decided I really should not punish my family by doing so, since one sucessful suicide would have been hard enough on them without having me keep attempting it.  Since I promised not to, I figured I might as well hold to that promise as long as possible.  Which then made me wish I had damn well done it properly to begin with.  Then I just went numb for a few days, since not feeling anything was easier than breaking down about something I obviously had no control over.  Makes a person feel downright powerless.  So all those postive things I was told to do that 'might make me feel better' are rather worthless.  In the sense that, while I should quit smoking, I don't see how that works for me... it would be rather counter-productive to do anything that would increase my potential lifespan.  Other people may think suicide is irrational, but it is not really.  It is deperate certainly.  That should say I need help with pain management, but apparently it does not translate that way at all.  I would really like to see those people live with my brain for a decade, having tried all that I tried, and see how spunky then feel. Maybe it is not a reasonable option, but neither is choosing to live fifty more years as is.  So an unhealthy habit like smoking, might at least decrease the fifty odd years I am expected to endure.  Which basically put me in a mindset that I had before the 'suicide incident' such that I felt I could do as I please, because it made no difference anyway.  At least when it comes to smoking.  I am trying to keep up with some minimal exercise and I am off the caffiene, but I simply feel no need to quit smoking.  If suicide is the plan B for when everything else has failed, and plan B did not work, then I am only left with a lame plan C, which is at least keep smoking and at least if plan A (which is doing everything else, try anything, suffer along like a good girl) does not pan out, I have at least the hope that I will have a nice spontenous heart attack to do me in.  How utterly irrational and sad is that thinking?  I rather liked having that plan B in the background, because I thought I would never actually use it.  It was simply nice to think that I had to the option.  And now plan B is too tempting to ponder for long.  But plan A totally sucks.  Maybe I should concoct an equally irrational plan D, and say I simply have to survive until robotics is advanced enough to transplant my mind into a robot body.  Find hope wherever you can.
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