take my mind off-

Adam picked me up at the metro on his way home from work. Shortly after we got home, I left to get the mail, which is part of a community mailbox trio in a parking lot. On the way back, I tripped and fell and landed hard on concrete. My legs and lower back muscles erupted and my nerves shrieked long and loud. The limping back to the house seemed eternal. The pain was so intense that when Adam saw it my face, he encouraged me to scream. I did not scream. I whimpered and gasped and hissed and cried, but I did not scream.
The Soma has kicked in fully. When I am in intense pain, the drug's effects are stronger. When I am in less pain, I don't feel the effects as much. This is why I am genuinely puzzled when people assume I will become addicted. I don't know how that could happen for me. I only want Soma when I am in agony. There isn't any other point for me. When I don't hurt, I don't want the drug. And yet strangers on forums like to paint me a future as a Soma addict. (I now wish to tell those people to kindly fuck off. Just because some people abuse and become addicted to prescription drugs does not mean they represent the majority of chronic pain sufferers.)
Adam is working all weekend, most likely working most of next week, and leaving on Thursday. The drive to Nashville will take eleven hours. He will be safe. My subconscious is already starting to invoke Hermes, however. I am always anxious during my husband's travels. I won't relax until he arrives safely his destination.
My legs are no longer on fire, so it is no longer worse (inside joke). My SID and synesthesia are wreaking havoc with my senses, though, so Adam will have to wait a bit to massage me. A hot shower may work better for now.

I feel like hell, a deep hell. I also feel like letting the inside wounds rip open and seep out, so they can heal properly. This may mean verbally, emotionally, and mentally bitch-slapping myself for a while. I am unhappy with myself, but that doesn't mean I can't be happy with other things. I can be happy and upset simultaneously.

It will pass and change, like everything.

Random -- I am curious: What is a memory you have of me that you love or recall vividly? Why?
(Replies to this will help me take my mind off pain.)

take my mind off-

Adam picked me up at the metro on his way home from work. Shortly after we got home, I left to get the mail, which is part of a community mailbox trio in a parking lot. On the way back, I tripped and fell and landed hard on concrete. My legs and lower back muscles erupted and my nerves shrieked long and loud. The limping back to the house seemed eternal. The pain was so intense that when Adam saw it my face, he encouraged me to scream. I did not scream. I whimpered and gasped and hissed and cried, but I did not scream.
The Soma has kicked in fully. When I am in intense pain, the drug's effects are stronger. When I am in less pain, I don't feel the effects as much. This is why I am genuinely puzzled when people assume I will become addicted. I don't know how that could happen for me. I only want Soma when I am in agony. There isn't any other point for me. When I don't hurt, I don't want the drug. And yet strangers on forums like to paint me a future as a Soma addict. (I now wish to tell those people to kindly fuck off. Just because some people abuse and become addicted to prescription drugs does not mean they represent the majority of chronic pain sufferers.)
Adam is working all weekend, most likely working most of next week, and leaving on Thursday. The drive to Nashville will take eleven hours. He will be safe. My subconscious is already starting to invoke Hermes, however. I am always anxious during my husband's travels. I won't relax until he arrives safely his destination.
My legs are no longer on fire, so it is no longer worse (inside joke). My SID and synesthesia are wreaking havoc with my senses, though, so Adam will have to wait a bit to massage me. A hot shower may work better for now.

I feel like hell, a deep hell. I also feel like letting the inside wounds rip open and seep out, so they can heal properly. This may mean verbally, emotionally, and mentally bitch-slapping myself for a while. I am unhappy with myself, but that doesn't mean I can't be happy with other things. I can be happy and upset simultaneously.

It will pass and change, like everything.

Random -- I am curious: What is a memory you have of me that you love or recall vividly? Why?
(Replies to this will help me take my mind off pain.)

take my mind off-

Adam picked me up at the metro on his way home from work. Shortly after we got home, I left to get the mail, which is part of a community mailbox trio in a parking lot. On the way back, I tripped and fell and landed hard on concrete. My legs and lower back muscles erupted and my nerves shrieked long and loud. The limping back to the house seemed eternal. The pain was so intense that when Adam saw it my face, he encouraged me to scream. I did not scream. I whimpered and gasped and hissed and cried, but I did not scream.
The Soma has kicked in fully. When I am in intense pain, the drug's effects are stronger. When I am in less pain, I don't feel the effects as much. This is why I am genuinely puzzled when people assume I will become addicted. I don't know how that could happen for me. I only want Soma when I am in agony. There isn't any other point for me. When I don't hurt, I don't want the drug. And yet strangers on forums like to paint me a future as a Soma addict. (I now wish to tell those people to kindly fuck off. Just because some people abuse and become addicted to prescription drugs does not mean they represent the majority of chronic pain sufferers.)
Adam is working all weekend, most likely working most of next week, and leaving on Thursday. The drive to Nashville will take eleven hours. He will be safe. My subconscious is already starting to invoke Hermes, however. I am always anxious during my husband's travels. I won't relax until he arrives safely his destination.
My legs are no longer on fire, so it is no longer worse (inside joke). My SID and synesthesia are wreaking havoc with my senses, though, so Adam will have to wait a bit to massage me. A hot shower may work better for now.

I feel like hell, a deep hell. I also feel like letting the inside wounds rip open and seep out, so they can heal properly. This may mean verbally, emotionally, and mentally bitch-slapping myself for a while. I am unhappy with myself, but that doesn't mean I can't be happy with other things. I can be happy and upset simultaneously.

It will pass and change, like everything.

Random -- I am curious: What is a memory you have of me that you love or recall vividly? Why?
(Replies to this will help me take my mind off pain.)