From time to time, there will be inconsistencies in what I write. I chalk this up to being, at this time, quite insane.
For instance, despite The Plan and it’s associated rules, I still haven’t managed to cut all ties with my health care providers yet. I’m working on it, but the healthy part of me is doing it’s best to heal me. I still have my appointment on Monday with the doctor that wants to start me on Suboxone, though I honestly don’t know whether I want to quit using oxycodone or not.
I mean, oxycodone is a pain reliever and an excellent one at that. Although I originally started using it to get high, I discovered it was much better suited to my needs as a means of getting rid of my psychic pain.
Finally, my therapist last night told me that she doesn’t think I’m going to be able to turn things around until I hit rock bottom and that she’s scared of what that might look like for me. I’m a little scared too. Personally, I think I’ll die before I hit rock bottom and, ok, maybe that’s more than a little scary.
Why am I so intent sometimes on doing this to myself?