No big thing

The road to Dalat where some of my troubles started
A nasty little git
In hob nail boots
Has always lived in my head
Put there the day I was born
By Dad, not pleased
That I'd arrived.

Always there
To just ensure
I'd never get above myself
Too happy
Too pleased.

If I did, the little git
Would stomp about
"NO! NO! NO!"
And give me something
To sulk about.

Fighting depression
At least one person
Will listen
They fall asleep. (one did)

But it's all to no effect
If you've got a git
In hob nail boots
Living in your head.

Ready to trot out
Long forgotten
Grievances and hurts
And wave them in your face
"See? See what happened!"
Wipe that smile off your face.

It gets old
Telling that stuff
Over and over
And over
Him in the hob nails
Giving me the guilts
Moaning to my therapist
Maybe she's got problems.

You're a Brit.
They don't do therapy
Stiffen that lip
And make sure

I got tired of that old creep
I thought I'd left him
All tied up
In my old baggage
That I'd finally left behind
After years of battle.

Didn't hear from him
For quite a while
Then one day
There that little turd was
Squirming around
Looking smug.

A queasy feeling in my gut
Slight sinking in the heart
A tear on my cheek
Curses. The little gnome escaped
And must have hitched a ride
I didn't pay his fare.

But now he's mad
'Cos his power's gone
Reduced from Anger and Despair
To ready tears
Not a great set-back
For me.

Setting oneself up with new doctors is tedious, especially if you have a complex history. The spinal fusion I had in 2007 resulted in nerve damage and problems with my legs, on top of other things. So I am on permanent pain killers. I am also on anti-depressants. In Washington, a few months before I left, I had been getting treated by a “physiatrist”. He was more help than anyone else had ever been. He would look at the way I stood, would lay his hands gently on my muscles and he could tell what adjustments were required. Then he would proceed to move my body around until all the bones were back where they ought to be. That is how it felt anyway. Tension gone, body loose.

So recently I went off in search of a similar practitioner. Reasonably, they require a whole new set of pictures before they can agree to treatment. In the meantime one of my medications was switched out in favor of Lyrica. At first it was miraculous. I felt as if years had dropped off. But there is always something nasty waiting in the wings…..

A week ago I was opening my curtains one morning and suddenly felt an old familiar sensation in my gut. It was very mild and I dismissed it. But over the next few days I found myself tearing up easily. It was more than just writing about cats that I lost. In the past I’ve had the sort of depression that simply makes you want to weep incessantly.

Frankly, I think I preferred it when I was angry and inclined to throw things. At least I could still function and did I care if my colleagues steered a wide berth around me? But it is really very hard to deal with passengers if you have tears flowing freely down your face. No, I never had to. The right medication sorts the problem out.

It turns out that the medication I was taken off in favor of Lyrica is such a drug, whereas Lyrica itself may cause a whole selection of undesirable effects. So off the Lyrica that makes the body feel better and back to the other…..

It’s no big thing.

I thought a cheerful picture to sum up!


One thought on “No big thing

  1. I am so sorry to hear that the change in meds did not work out. I wish you success with your new doctor and hope that together you and he will find something that will make your life enjoyable again. I know, all too well, about those undesirable side effects. That nasty little git has got to go. He probably didn’t like your cheerful picture, but it’s bright colors did lift my spirits!

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