One of Those Nights

I was reminded by J* this afternoon to stay away from the pity party cycle.  At the moment, I was able to hear what she was saying clearly.  Agree and understand fully the damage it does. I heard her concerns loud and clear.  It is the same audio tape that plays out in my head everyday.all.f*cking.day.long!!!

Yet, we came home after a very long day of being gone. We left at 10:30am bc the kids had appointments and I had 3 separate appointments.  Each appointment was in the same area of town and so it made no sense for my husband to drive 30 miles home to get me and then back again.

When we got home shortly after 6 tonight, I was fighting back tears.  Pain was tolerable.  My body is just not able to handle doing what it ended up doing.  I don't feel like I did that much.  Considering unless I was at my appts...I was sitting in the car.

I should be able to drive by now.
I can't.

I should be able to dress myself by now.
I did mostly last weekend.
I can't now.

I should be able to do so much more than I am.
And I can't.

When I look around my house at WHAT things I can do....

There are very few things that I can do.

I'm left handed.  I can't move my left elbow away from my waist.  Ever. For 8 weeks. I have. I do. Because it is your bodies natural instinct to grab something when you drop it. Not always do I want someone helping me get dress.  Not always is there someone home to help me get dressed.  I can't scrapbook. I've played more mother f*cking games online than I care to ever even admit. I can't cook for myself.  Toast is about the extent of what I can cook.  Occasionally, more.

What am I saying?

Nothing.
I'm just whining.
Feeling sorry for myself.
Frustrated that I'm still 100% reliant on narcotic pain medication.
Frustrated that I'm beginning to worry about being addicted to these medications.  Because I know what the early signs are..
Frustrated....and depressed.

Really freeking depressed.