a voice from the gloom

this has not been a fun summer.  two weekends in 72-hour hold.  days of pain while doctors argue over whether or not i can continue taking my opioid meds.  temper getting shorter.  tired of dealing; tired of coping.

then last night staring at the ceiling so i wouldn’t fall asleep again because of repeating nightmares.

did you know if you get excessively tired, flashbacks have absolutely no problem invading your life?????

when

when
will I be loved
for who I am
the good, bad, and indifferent
my writing and compositions
words and melody alike

when
will I be seen
and heard
recognized as intelligent
worthwhile
(even handsome?)
desirable

when
will someone
anyone
accept all that is here
help me forget the past
and live for a future
filled with love and promise

I suppose then
when
I love who I am
and who I can be
see the good
accept the talent
desire the man
lost in this shell of flesh
waiting on death

so then

never

when life becomes worth living

i don’t want anyone to get the impression the my life is perfect.  far from it.  but pain is no longer a motivator to give up.  the new prescription of  extended release oxymorphone is actually working.  My pain, though not “gone” – is typically a level 1 or 2 on the infamous 1-to-10 scale.  i’m sleeping again.  say the doctor yesterday and he said i almost looked happy.

sleep is a wonderful thing.  i recommend everyone give it a try.

of course, i’m still jumping through hoops here at work getting authorized to be on a narcotic medication while at work.  i suppose that’s what i get for working at a hospital.

but for all intents and purposes – i am pain free.  or close enough to call it pain free.  and for the days of “break through pain” – i have percocet standing by waiting to help me out.

amazing.

i almost don’t mind getting up in the mornings …

struck down … again

Sometimes it just doesn’t pay to stand back up after being knocked down.

My boss has this thing during staff meetings – everyone has to give a “happy thought”; something they’re happy about that day.

Well, with my depression, i don’t always have one and i refuse to say something lame like “I’m glad I’m alive” (doubly since some days i’m NOT).

My boss dinged me on this during my performance review a couple months ago.  Then this morning, he starts the meeting with his “happy moment”.    And with this big grin he says “And we’ll start with Marc”.

Well today i don’t have a “happy thought”, and i say i don’t.  So he says i can leave the meeting and return to my desk because he only wants people willing to participate.  He humiliates me in front of my co-workers because i won’t bow and kiss his…  well anyway.

Right now i don’t know what to do.  But if i didn’t have one before, you can bet i sure as hell don’t have a “happy thought” now…

This is what i get for getting the meds straightened out and my shoulder working and life looking good again.

sometimes i wonder why i even try to climb out of the pit.