I can't sleep. I'm not letting myself, though I'm totally exhausted and sick to my stomach for lack of rest. I'm terrified to go back to sleep. And I really really don't want to wake Chris up yet again.
You see, I woke up about 6 or 7 times, gasping for breath, trying not to scream, from intensely terrifying nightmares in a very short span. Every time I would wake up Chris, likely with a start, poor man. He'd ask if it was a bad dream, I'd say oh yeah, and then promptly fall back to sleep. I couldn't keep my eyes open, no matter how much I wanted to! :( The last time I was gasping, I didn't even had a nightmare, I was just starting to fall asleep, realised, and woke myself terrified. Chris got cranky, saying I needed to stop so he could get some sleep.
So here I am sitting up on the couch, trying not to fall to sleep, and wondering where the hell those nightmares came from. *sigh* It's been a long ass time since I've had a string of re-occuring/repeating/re-entering nightmares. It sucks major hairy goat balls. The only thing I can think of is that I took a lot, and I mean a lot of ibuprophen today trying to stem the very intense pain of the UTI I have. I wasn't thinking of it at the time, but I think I took like, 4 times the recommended daily dose. No wonder my tummy hates me.
The worst part is, of course, that I still fucking hurt. But I don't have much more than ibuprophen available to me for the pain. It's something I plan on talking to my doctor about this week when I get my physical. It's imperative to any future good health I might have that I have some better fucking pain meds available to me, damnit. But my doctor is really terrible about pain meds. He's never willing to give me anything more than tylenol 2s which, if I take them again, won't fucking help for very long as I'll rebuild my tolerance for them. I need at least 2 to make any difference as it is. I need something stronger. But that's not likely. *sigh*
My doctor has known me for 31 years, hell, he presided over my birth! He knows me. He knows I'm not faking it. I'm not some kind of addict looking for a fix. And yet he won't fucking give me anything for the pain. It's making me crazy frustrated. The pain makes me fucking useless. I'm bedridden with it more than I'd like to admit. Between the migraines, tension headaches, and the fibro, my life is filled with pain, and it's a real struggle just to survive it, nevermind DO anything. I'm fucking useless! I can't work. I can't take care of myself. I can't even help around the apartment half the time because I'm in too much fucking pain. What the hell good am I?! What the hell good is a life like this?! It is no life. Damint. And I hate it. I hate the pain, and how overwhelming and tiring it is. I hate being useless. I hate being so fucking helpless! BAH.
And I'm so fucking exhausted right now. I'm practically falling alseep as I type, but I'm just so damn terrified to even try to sleep. My dreams were worse than bad. They were terriying, and painful. They shook me to my very soul and filled me with fear. I don't understand what any of them were about. I was being hunted, that's the most prevalent theme. Hunted, caught, and attacked. My hunters kept trying to kill me it seemed. I was hit on the head, bludgeoned,
drowned, all sorts. I had no chance to defend myself, almost all the attacks were sudden, I totally didn't and couldn't see them coming. The ones that lasted longer, I had no way to defend myself, my enemy then was incorporeal/metaphysical.
Maybe I'll try sleeping sitting up on the couch. I don't want to go back to bed as I really, really don't want to disturb Chris' sleep yet again. I've done that enough for one night. He hasn't had a good night sleep in days, as he's been on call, and I feel like a total ass for fucking up his first chance at good sleep. :(