Running Out – a musing



Today I write of a strange vitality, the harsh wonder of experience. I am running out of painkillers, in a manner I had not anticipated, and while on a family holiday.

Having misjudged my situation I now have 7 Tramadol remaining. Aching from various mental stresses the day before yesterday (yes, mental stuff becomes physically manifest) I attempted buying Cocodamol here in Portugal…but left with strong Ibuprofen instead. Turns out you need a prescription for Coco.

Now I am down to rations.

I had thought I was doing well. No Cocodamol for months now, days off the herbal painkiller Kratom, as well as reduced doses. I brought none of it with me this holiday. I still do not think doing so was a mistake but I did badly miscalculate my needs.

To try and remedy it I had an extra Prozac yesterday. I know, I know, it has longer term effects, but based on how much of the holiday is left I thought the extra Serotonin would help my many pains.

Wish me luck.



Fragile Creativity – a musing

I need not emphasise to any artist how fragile creativity can be.

It is like trying to squeeze fizzing lightning into a jar. To translate the thoughts and inspirations into something which others can enjoy, that is the key. Yet sometimes that breaks down, becomes impossible. I wrote prose for the first time today since the 27th of November, and it felt good. Slow, halting, but so, so very good. Cathartic.

Onto the serious stuff: there is finally an answer for my various and widespread health issues. A condition known as Fibromyalgia. We’re just waiting on the Vitamin D deficiency tests to come back, but even if they show a deficiency it would not explain many of the symptoms I’m having. The constant pain and tiredness have been long documented, both on this blog and on my previous one.

It has been an incredibly long and difficult journey to find this answer, although now we begin treatment. I am scared and nervous, although it has been 6 years since the pain first began, and so I’m open to options, willing to try things. I fear for my creativity. Crisis is the fount of creativity, and I wonder how my ability or desire to write may be altered as a result.

I began taking Fluoxetine (Prozac) and Tramadol yesterday. Of course it will be about a month before the anti-depressant really starts to work, but already the Tramadol (taking about 5/6 a day so far) makes a difference to my pain and energy levels.

I am going to be making a serious effort to keep writing, even if it is not necessarily prose. Poetry will be good, and I’ll have to keep telling myself not to judge what I’ve written too much, to just express without internal criticism.

However long the journey has been to reach a diagnosis (so close, so very close) the road ahead is going to be difficult, too. I don’t know what will happen however, I’m glad to have reached this point at last. By experience I am a dark personality, using my writing to serve as catharsis, and many things over the course of my life have been explained by this condition.

Anyway! I thank you all for reading this and for the support and likes that I’ve received ever since I started blogging. You’re all wonderful and I appreciate every single one of you.