It feels really surreal. Maybe that's the drugs?
Readers, I am here now to tell you that it was, in fact, the drugs. They are in fact both the solution and additional problems. This procedure has made what's already a rough and emotional time of year well-nigh unbearable. I've been see-sawing between totally fine and burn-your-life-down sobbingly depressed.
It turns out that tramadol has an SNRI in it, which is like an SSRI except that it also treats nerve pain apparently (which is good to do if you're treating chronic pain). I've struggled with, and mostly beaten, depression all my life. I've been passively suicidal on and off since I was 14 or so. My care team asked if I was currently on an SSRI but they did not ask about my mental health in any other way. Each time I've tried to taper off the tramadol, I've apparently been doing it wrong because I've had zero guidance from the team, and with zero guidance from the internet/community, because googling for this just nets you page after page of ads for rehab clinics. And each time I tried to taper, it's been like kicking the kid on the bike who's just taken off the training wheels. I felt like I've been barely staying astride.
And also the rest of the time, I feel entirely fine. Good, even. We take nice long walks. We've cooked and built things and enjoyed the pleasant weather.
This is not to say I'm feeling totally great. I mean, I have intense and layered Strong Feelings about the state of my meat suit and how it's failing me, how ugly and lumpy and just overall gory the surgical site looks right now. But that's nothing next to the feeling like I've just come out from some sort of trance and found that I've been walking on knives for three weeks, and then effortlessly falling back into that trance. I cannot tell what's the drugs, and what's the continued conflicts in my relationship bubbling over; I can't tell what is forgivable and what's inevitable.
And, for what it's worth, at least I can walk just fine, swallow fine, take all my vitamins again, shower, brush my hair and do a bunch of stuff okay again. I'm not off painkillers and not back to 100% yet and I don't know when I will be, but I'm no longer prevented from doing everyday tasks because of pain or stiffness, or lets be real here, fear. Though I'm also not yet off the opiods and thus not permitted to drive (which makes me feel surprisingly trapped), or alas, to drink. That latter has been a surprising ache for me, not because I particularly care about being drunk, but because I enjoy the sensory experience and traditions of cocktails so much. The fact that I feel sad about it makes me question if I have a problem? I don't think I do, or else I wouldn't have gone this long without any alcohol, right?
I cannot wait to be out of this collar, to be able to drive myself places, and to have a nice nightcap before bed.
We dressed up for New Years Eve, because that's what you're supposed to do, even if you're just cooking and spending the evening at home on multiple Zoom calls with friends. And we took off my neck brace for a photo, so I could feel just the slightest bit normal for the first time in 17 days.
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