Hello, friends.
I've been having a problem.
During the day, I have a general feeling of "dread".
Mornings used to be much different. The alarm clock rang at 6 a.m., or 5:45, if I had gone to bed a few minutes earlier than usual. I brewed my morning coffee, jumped in the shower while it was cooling, and by the time it was cool enough to sip, I would be finished showering and ready to click on my favorite morning news station in my bedroom.
My husband already having got off to work, usually, my girls would be coming in and out of my room asking me this or that to help them in their course of getting ready for school.
I would arrange my hair and make-up while reveling in the flavor and aroma of my cup of joe (always the best of my morning pleasures), and listening to the local happenings.
Within a few short moments, it seemed, we were in the car. I would drop my youngest off at the babysitters, and my eldest off at her elementary, and I was off . . . .my favorite music blaring, usually wearing my most ambitious of attire ie. heels, and either a suit, or my favorite black pencil skirt coming just above my knees and the colorful shirt of my choice, sometimes paired with a blazer in the winter!
As the skyline of Nashville became clearer, the traffic became more stop-and-go. and I would have a better chance to view the morning, usually gorgeous in my area.
I will never forget the cheerfulness of the offices I worked in. Most were the same, although I worked several different jobs during the course of my career in the Mortgage business. My favorite was that as a Loan Processor. Men in suits joking lightheartedly with one another and the women in our office, my files all in a neat row held in order of color and order on my desk. In one office, I had a particularly good view of Nashville from the window. In one, closer to home, my office was spacious and in a beautiful, old austere bank where everyone always seemed cheerful and able to help. Wherever I went, I mostly received a good reception amongst managers and colleagues, and was fiercely competitive with a great work ethic.
In later years, after eating an energy bar (always mindful of my weight), I would typically take a Diazepam with my coffee to relieve the pain from what I thought then to be severe TMJ. This usually took care of things for awhile, and allowed me to concentrate on my work. This would be repeated at lunch. But, the pain, it was a persistent thing, and typically felt as if were boring into the sides of my face on my ride home from work. The pain had actually begun at work, while at my desk one day. I felt a strange pulling in the side of my face. I had never felt anything like that before.
There was usually a business lunch or dinner with my friends from work to look forward to. These were always so much fun! Good times! It was exciting shaking hands with usually friendly executives twice my age and seemingly still going strong, making great money and looking forward to vacations with their families, no doubt!
At work, everything was orderly. At work, it seemed that I would climb the ranks to the success I had always dreamed of for my family. At work, I felt useful, at home, peaceful and ready to solve problems.
Building a solid future for my children was always in the forefront of my mind. But, I was having a blast doing so! I wonder how many can say that.
Although it was sometimes stressful,
Strange how mornings have changed.
The alarm rings at 7 a.m. I feel almost paralyzed. Shortly thereafter, or before, my youngest daughter usually brings coffee to my bedside. I usually think that 10 minutes will be longer than it is. Then, I remember, today is another day with my illness, my medications and my seeming helplessness to better myself in the world.
I struggle to get up, stumbling sometimes. I throw on my robe on cold mornings. Some days, my eyes are so dry and irritated that I cannot even find my shoes, so I slip on my old, rugged, house shoes.
If I am already in a night dress, I just go in that. If not, I pull up whatever pair of pants I had on the evening before.
The facial pain has not begun yet . . . .yet, every joint in my body seems to be hot and sore. The soles of my feet usually seem to burn, for reasons unknown.
I try to be as cheerful as possible, trying to joke around and , so that they do not catch on to my discouraged feeling. It seems a monumental a struggle to keep my weary, watering eyes open in the mid-morning sunlight as I drop them off at their respective schools, hoping that they will have the kind of days I used to have, full of hope, friends, achievement and a sense of endless possibility.
After making it back to my blessed driveway, it is always a relief to drop my purse, keys on top beside my comfy couch (which is becoming less comfy by the day for the wear), pop on the computer for a few moments, until I drift back off into a fitful sleep off and on, until around noon on bad days.
The night before I have always made plans for this time, dishes, laundry, gathering items to take to either the local charity or to sell on e-bay. Yet, I have no more energy than to run a few searches, which usually pertain to why a person would have overall declining health, or as to why a person of 39 years old would feel so tired. Maybe during one of my few moments of wakefulness, I will drop in on Facebook, or Living with TN.
I look at my neglected plants in my window, which used to flourish due to my care. I hear the birds singing in the tree behind my back window, going about their day, as I wish I could if only I had the energy.
I wonder and search the internet, sometimes, in hopes of finding something I could possibly do with the rest of my life, because even if I am approved for SSDI, it will not adequately pay the bills.
Whenever I feel the least bit of energy creep into my body, I take my medication, wait a few moments, because it will not work on a full stomach, and chase it with a Fiber bar, so that it has something to land on, but not enough to squelch the effects. (The Fiber bars are cheaper. Hey, some things don't change, (smiles) but now I also usually crave a Pop-Tart and some cereal - anything sweet, a side effect of opiate usage, I believe).
I eventually achieve a sitting position, and by that time, my husband, a starving artist, is usually up. He's currently seeking other employment, so if you're still reading me, don't worry. He is trying. He never dreamed of falling in love again, after his divorce again 7 yrs. ago and having a family to try to support. If he had not been so patient with my illness, love me so much, remain faithful and make intelligent conversation, I'd not be putting up with his ineptitude to make money! Well, he does earn enough that I'm not losing money on his living here. At least that.
By this time, I usually feel like talking, unless I am having an ATN flare-up (usually the worst of these is after a regular sized meal).
My late husband would grieve if he could see me in this state. He admired my ability to achieve. He loved that I always dreamed up, and found ways of improving our life, no matter what the circumstances were. I wonder if he even would have thought that Atypical Trigeminal Neuralgia would take these personality traits from me.
The bottom line is, I am sleepy ALL DAY, until approximately 4 p.m. in the afternoon. I am not sure if it is my medication, or if I am clinically depressed.
When night comes, I am a different person. I run errands. I clean myself up. I make up my face. I do laundry (sometimes dishes, although I don't keep the sink clear, as I used to). I am interactive with my children. I help my youngest with her homework. I interact with guy! I light candles in my home to balance my "chi". I feel ALIVE . . . .and this is great, but why evenings?
I wonder why I feel so lifeless all day long and not at night? I am wondering if anyone else experiencing this.
So, my friends, always my disclaimer here, I type faster than I talk. If you've managed to read, or even skim this, would your opinion be that this problem is medication or depression induced. Or, do you believe it is caused by something else?
Any opinions or thoughts are welcome.
Thank you for listening to me reminisce. Even if not a soul reads this post, it still felt good to get out.
Your friend,
Stef