Me, myself, and I...

Yesterday and today have been rough, with the wretchedness of yesterday iced with a migraine.  Feeling so lonely and afraid, I rather petulantly watched really, really, really bad cheesy sci-fi disaster movies instead of sitting in the quiet darkness to help the migraine medicine alone.  I suspect that is why I have not been able to shake a headache today.

I used to email and text my friends of my wretchedness because I feel so utterly alone.  But I feel even more lonely when there is no response.  First one and then the others became too busy with their own lives and families to respond in a timely manner.  My emails go almost unremarked now.  Those I stopped sending in the wee hours of the morning.  I only text one person now, but realize that even that friend is too busy.

I have been so very thankful for starting counseling again and for how ... good ... I think that she is.  However, I am so bloody weary of hearing how I need to have a support team.  I don't have one. I cannot make one.  I am not anyone's priority and, in my opinion, I think the only way that would happen is if I had either a different family or were married.

Being so utterly alone in this life of the chronically ill is one of the reasons that I do not think I could survive it without my Fluffernutter.  It is hard, therefore, when he is punishing me for tending to his personal grooming.  I have to get the matts out of the curls on his ears.  If I do not tend to them, they will only get worse.  However, Amos has been upstairs, hiding from me, even though he watched me put away the detangler and grooming comb, for more than two hours.  Every time I try to woo him back to my lap, he runs away and stuffs himself into some small space.

I get that.
Stuffing one's self into small spaces is comforting.
I am in need of comfort.

I learned that the theophylline price is going up, the co-pay.  It is no longer a preferred brand and is the highest tier, the co-pay for which is also significantly changing (a percentage, not a flat amount).  I have so many of the smaller doses, I thought that I would try taking the 300 mg (two of them) to make up the 600 mg.  However, the 300s are the 12-hour version.  And although I have now tried three different manufacturer's versions of three different doses I absolutely cannot tolerate whatever is in the 12-hour extended release formula verses the 24-hour extended release formula.  I become symptomatic as if I am overdosing on the theophylline, and also battle incredible abdominal cramps, migraines, and arrhythmias.  Even taking less than I need makes me ill.

Reluctantly, I threw out all the 12-hour pills tonight ... several months worth of medicine between all the dose changes over the past two years (the pills not yet expired).  I do not wish to be tempted financially into feeling so ill again.  SIGH.

I have noticed on the Facebook support group that many folk post the way that I emailed or texted ... a cry of illness and fear, a plea not to be alone in the moment.  Sometimes the posts go unremarked.  Sometimes folk respond with encouragement and reminders that the person is not alone.  I have thought about trying to post there, but the counselor is really, really, really adamant that support comes through relationship, not virtual interactions with folk you've never met.  Maybe, one day, I might get to know some of them, but support the type of which I'm supposed to build into a team (again, I am ever so weary of hearing about this) doesn't come from strangers.  And, before, when I would make such posts on my personal Facebook page without much support from folk I thought had become friends of a sort, I felt even worse than just being ill.

Support with illness flares.
Support with cognitive battles.
Support with appointments.
Support with coping with/managing chronic illness life.

Yes, well.  That would be nice.  I would go for just not being so alone when my body makes it difficult to see past a moment (hours) of misery to life on the other side.

I sure wish I were better at talking to myself....