Monthly Archives: February 2019

NIGHT NOISES

My psychiatrist is a nice man and I’ve had 2nd and 3rd opinions on my diagnoses which he encouraged, but sometimes I wonder if he stays up to date.

He suggested trying medical marijuana to possibly wean me off the Klonopin and sleep aid I take every night. We’re trying to save as much of my kidney function as possible so I don’t have to go on dialysis like my Dad. I miss him.

The doctor said he doesn’t have a license to “prescribe” medical marijuana but he thinks it would help me immensely!

You don’t need a special license to prescribe it, the doctor just has to verify that you actually have one of the qualifying conditions that would benefit from it’s use. I only found this out recently.

In the meantime, my sister has a license for it and I tried what she gets for anxiety at night. I think it’s the first time I’ve slept that good in years.

Of course, all good things must come to an end. We had another argument where she tells me I never take responsibility for anything and I’m cut off. I was ok until my Dad died.

I did the worst thing and asked my brother. He was nice and just gave it to me lol nothing with him is free. I started hearing things. Now I don’t know if I’m hearing voices and noises because of my Dad dying, the pot, or who knows what?(THC can cause auditory hallucinations and I don’t think it’s in much of the medical marijuana)

I haven’t processed my Dad’s death at all. It’s in a little blue box shoved far, far, in the back of my mind.

I just keep hoping I get to live near my Aunt for a little while. I love the area where she lives, I get along with my cousins, I love the weather, my Aunt is like my Mom, filled with love and laughter. They were sisters and best friends, imagine that!

I’ve been wanting to write more I’ve just been too tired. I had to postpone my kidney surgery by 3 and a half months so I start to feel like a giant slug. I’m good with it, I got to have extra time with my Dad.

 


BUT YOU’RE GONE

FIRST THINGS FIRST 

Why do people insist on putting a time limit on grieving? Or continuously ask you how you are but it sounds more like “Are you done yet?”. My best and possibly only friend of 35 years accidentally said out loud “How long has it been? Almost a month? Hmm…it’s close.” But I know her, I know she was doing her own equation on how to deal with feelings (eww). I do wonder how she became the way she is and what makes her love me and stay my friend no matter what.

I hear you call my name 20 times a day, I can hear you whistling “Moon River” from my sister’s wedding, I hear you say the only swear you ever really used, all because of your birds. Birds we all thought at one time or another, you loved more than us. The 2 that are left are like me, broken and unpredictable, no one wants them.

This hysterical commercial came on and I turned my head to your end of the couch to ask if you had seen it too. But you were gone. I keep forgetting.

I had to listen to a message on my phone, I didn’t know there was one from you from when you were in the hospital. I sat in my car and cried.

Yes, I have found myself outside liquor stores and bars since January 11th. Physically I can’t, I don’t know why but my body can handle maybe half of a beer (not the best example considering I’m allergic) before I feel nauseous. It isn’t Antibuse or anything like that it’s having 38% kidney function. I don’t want it to go any lower.

The biggest problem is the loneliness. I’m not used to being alone this much. My Dad deserves a lot of credit for listening to me babble for so many years.

The rest of my family doesn’t really want to have much to do with me. Everyone has their own lives or I said something they didn’t like so they avoid me. My twin sister doesn’t want me in her life until I go through an “intensive treatment program” because I am a “manipulative c*nt and a dry drunk”. I also “never take responsibility for anything I’ve ever said or done”.

In ten years no one else has ever called me a “dry drunk” and I know plenty.

I’m the first one to take responsibility when I know that I’m wrong.

I don’t always know that I’ve offended someone or said things I didn’t mean when backed into a corner or if I feel threatened.

I know I am alone.

I miss my Dad more than anything.

I wish I could be in Florida with my Auntie L. who would hug me and talk to me.

They listened to you Dad. Without paperwork I told you they would run right over me. I know you felt guilty and torn about what to do so you kept putting it off. Now I’m stuck doing what I’m told waiting for the day I’m free.

I love you Dad

 


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