tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-45444988662050239362024-02-19T07:21:29.755+01:00Strongerthis heart gets stronger, this skin gets thicker, this mouth gets louderKristinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13589102774385812789noreply@blogger.comBlogger1089125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4544498866205023936.post-27860684950925381412018-05-21T17:54:00.000+02:002018-05-21T17:54:24.538+02:00doggo<br />
I'm sitting in our office, drinking juice. The dog is asleep in the bedroom, we went on a long walk earlier and he's still pretty pooped. It was nice getting out in the sunshine. I've been cooped up for a while, playing video games and talking to friends online and generally clinging to the main social exchange I have. And feeling bad about wasting time while still having to admit that social connections are important and probably good for my mental health. It's a quite strange combo.<br />
<br />
It's been an unusually long time since my last post. Getting a dog turned out to be one of the most difficult things I've ever done and it sparked a period of depression that was worse than it's been in quite long.<br />
<br />
But it's slowly stabilising again. I lost a beloved family member and that made it pretty much worse again, but by now I'm starting to feel like a human again.<br />
<br />
I'm trying to create good habits and routines but that shit is so hard. Even if I write strict schedules for myself I keep forgetting or losing track of them.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Listening to: <a href="https://open.spotify.com/track/3wUm0iMTHnTBcTpa94ms7N?si=f1a7HfScR3-GZsFkbsHgWA">Blank Maps by Cold Specs</a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4544498866205023936.post-14800960378511048232017-09-03T01:50:00.001+02:002017-09-03T01:50:15.769+02:00Nn<p dir="ltr">A very long day is over and I'm in bed with hair dye still in my hair because I'm simply too tired to wash it out in the middle of the night and then waiting for my hair to dry at least a little. It's probably going to be a pain to wash it out tomorrow morning but I'm going to sleep either way! Now! It's almost one and I got up at seven thirty, a much longer day than I'm used to!</p>
<p dir="ltr">I'm very excited about tomorrow! (Not only because of the shower I'm gonna take.)</p>
<p dir="ltr">Goodnight internet ♡</p>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4544498866205023936.post-28139757628798020672017-09-01T01:07:00.001+02:002017-09-01T01:07:32.313+02:00The light at the end of the tunnel<p dir="ltr">This bloody steam roller of a week is almost over. It's midnight, late thursday evening. Tomorrow is going to be hectic and Saturday too, and then it's Sunday, the day I've been waiting for for months.</p>
<p dir="ltr">I cancelled my plans today and yesterday, I just can't deal with anything at all basically. I'm lucky enough to have people in my life that don't mind me flaking at the last minute, or even better - who come to me and give me hugs. ♡</p>
<p dir="ltr">Life is good. I think that I'm in the best circumstances to deal with my overwhelming anxiety. Even if life being good is actually making my anxiety worse, it also allows me time and space to rest and breathe and deal. </p>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4544498866205023936.post-61121346273710443192017-08-28T14:27:00.001+02:002017-08-28T14:27:52.563+02:00Emotional overload<p dir="ltr">I should be happy, because my life is amazing. But the excitement and happiness is so overwhelming that I just have intense physical anxiety. All the time. And a whole lot mental too. </p>
<p dir="ltr">Yay.</p>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4544498866205023936.post-38171390077829288272017-07-26T11:30:00.001+02:002017-07-26T11:30:58.665+02:00All year I dream about it<p dir="ltr">And when it's here I never want it to end. I love summer, warm weather, sunshine, being outdoors.</p>
<p dir="ltr">We chose our house because of the garden, we felt like it had so much possibility. A roofed deck, a lot of planting space, a lawn, <i>another </i>deck! Space to have bbq's, space to hang out with friends, long summer evenings looking out over the Sheffield hills... but unfortunately a representative from the council came by and looked at the decking and told us it's too rotten to even stand on. It needs to be switched before we can walk or sit or stand on it.</p>
<p dir="ltr">And our landlord doesn't feel like it. So now we have a lawn and a shitload of woodlouse. And our garden is nothing but a reminder of disappointment. A symbol of how much goes wrong with this house. And when it gets colder those woodlouse are going to start finding their way indoors again. </p>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4544498866205023936.post-16950839825595560482017-07-09T12:28:00.001+02:002017-07-09T12:28:06.866+02:00Out and about <p dir="ltr">Travel is so much fun and so much stress and so much overwhelming. I have a problem with big, noisy, crowded places, except for one. Gröna Lund in Stockholm is a place where I feel happy, even though I'm constantly surrounded by screaming people and massive crowds and huge, noisy structures and bright colours and bad music and in general a lot of stuff that would normally trigger a panic attack. My inner child looks at it all with starry eyed wonder. And I manage to keep it together. And. Yesterday my friend T won TWO KILOS OF TOBLERONE.</p>
<p dir="ltr">A marvellous day. I also went on three different roller coasters (and the fun house) and it was a lot of fun!</p>
<p dir="ltr">So far this trip (although it's intense) has been really good. I'm away from home for a long time but it's still hectic and I feel like I don't have time to see anyone. </p>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4544498866205023936.post-10182078580287784702017-04-27T13:42:00.001+02:002017-04-27T13:42:33.478+02:00Obsession with the past<p dir="ltr">I was looking at my Facebook memories (as I do every day) and realized that nine years ago today I woke up next to someone else's partner. I made some fucked up choices after drinking tequila at a party in the house I shared with two amazing ladies in Cork, Ireland. Those choices changed my life. I have no idea how my life would look today if it wasn't for that night. I don't know what made me feel drawn to that dude, why I made the choice to go to bed with him. I don't remember much of the party, or what happened in my bed (more because of the nine years since it happened than because of the tequila I think, but I'm sure both had an effect). I remember the song that was playing on repeat inside, I remember that we were standing outside, smoking, and everyone else went inside. I remember one of my housemates asking me the next day why that guys shoes where in the hallway when she woke up early in the morning. (Or maybe went to bed early in the morning?)</p>
<p dir="ltr">I fell for him, a very stupid "love", a toxic relationship without future or reason or logic. We were drawn to each other by some kind of undeniable force and we let it happen, we hurt each other and others, everything was dramatic and serious and stupid and... ugh. It drained the happiness from my life.</p>
<p dir="ltr">He moved to Sweden. He got married. And he kept writing to me, "refusing to become a memory" as he said. The idea of being adored was just too sweet. I tried to move on, I don't think I answered his emails but I don't know. Maybe I did. I don't remember. I knew even then that he was using me to feel special, more than anything else. I knew on some level. But unfortunately it didn't help, I still wanted nothing as much as I wanted him.</p>
<p dir="ltr">He and his wife separated. He contacted me and wanted to see me. I came running. So stupid. We became a real couple, finally, after years of stupid f*cking drama. I moved back to Stockholm and we lived together. It was never good. He never wanted it to become real, everyday, ordinary. That was all I wanted. I never really got it. It was a couple of years wasted. Terrible f*cking years. He was mean, and manipulative, and he didn't love me. Not at all. I think he wanted to keep me around because it was comfortable, I cooked and cleaned and payed for most of our food and furniture and clothes for his kids, so that he could spend his own money on fun stuff.</p>
<p dir="ltr">I loved his kids so much. So much that when I knew I should have left long ago I couldn't. I couldn't leave them. I couldn't leave them with <i>him.</i></p>
<p dir="ltr">Then he started isolating me from them, cutting me off from them. And there was no reason for me to stay at all anymore.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Surprisingly the kids' mother contacted me when we broke up. I had not been allowed to talk to her. (!) We became friends. And I could see the kids. I still love those kids so much. And I love their mom. But I don't really think about their dad anymore.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Me and the kids' mom started comparing things that he had told us and very soon realized that there was a huge discrepancy. He had been lying, about everything, all the time. Everything. I didn't actually know anything about him at all.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Breaking up from someone who has spent years breaking you down is a pretty big deal. At the same time I had a lot of stress at work - a LOT of stress. A recipe for success, if by success you mean burnout and a depression that had been building up since that one night, nine years ago. That depression is still present in my life but at least that dude is not! The kids and their mom are though. And I'm happy about that. When I told her that her ex husband had been cheating on her with me she just hugged me. I was crying a lot. I love her. And I love her kids. And now I'm living in a different county again, and I miss them, but I'm so happy they are in my life.</p>
<p dir="ltr">I wonder where my life would have taken me if that night never happened. Who I would have been.<br>
</p>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4544498866205023936.post-65487266449253194912017-03-23T13:48:00.001+01:002017-03-23T13:48:56.890+01:00Nine years and eleven months<p dir="ltr">Since I started writing on this blog! In one month (approximately) the blog will be 10 years old. That means I was 22 when I started writing it. A lot has happened since then.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Right now I'm sitting in the floor in my craft room. I'm drinking tea. It's cold. I'm talking to a good friend on messenger. About narcissists. Last night I read <a href="https://pairedlife.com/etiquette/A-Narcissist-is-Capable-of-Great-Destruction">this article</a> and so much fell into place. Everything I went through at school in Leksand about four years ago suddenly made sense. It was like reading a checklist, or like someone had been watching exactly everything that happened. I was the perfect victim for a narcissist. I was so easy to manipulate. To befriend, to turn against. To turn everyone else against. I wish people weren't so willing to turn against me.</p>
<p dir="ltr">But it answered the question that has been on my mind almost constantly since then: <i>why?</i> </p>
<p dir="ltr">Why did this happen? What did I do?</p>
<p dir="ltr">I'll always be grateful for the people who didn't eat up every lie she spread like it was some kind of divine truth. The people who had my back, who helped and supported me. And most of all to the few that are still my friends. Those people show me that I'm actually okay, I'm not some kind of monster. Because if I was, I would not get to have the coolest, most amazing, kindest, most thoughtful, talented friends.</p>
<p dir="ltr">I can't say losing people who listen to rumors and accept lies is a huge loss. </p>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4544498866205023936.post-35150264450570579082016-11-03T23:08:00.001+01:002016-11-03T23:08:12.467+01:00Eeeeyo<p dir="ltr">Time for a late night bath after spending AAAAALL day waiting for a delivery that never showed up!! An important delivery too! Not okay.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Sweet dreams from England!</p>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4544498866205023936.post-69490366193067670712016-09-24T13:08:00.001+02:002016-09-24T13:08:42.045+02:00Boiling brain<p dir="ltr">It's worse than the usual "full of bees". It's storming in there, I can't sit still, intense, panicky anxiety and stress takes over body and mind.</p>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4544498866205023936.post-12919793561659108962016-09-22T01:26:00.001+02:002016-09-22T01:26:29.374+02:00Chachachachaaaanges<p dir="ltr">Changes are so stressful! I've had a ... not good, but not very bad summer. I've felt lonely and isolated. I've missed Sweden. I've dealt with psychiatrists that did not give a flying flunk about me, my feelings, my experiences and my thoughts. I've mostly been indoors. But I've been with my darling. I've been in love. I've been carefully dreaming a little about the future instead of only trying to shut all thoughts up. I've been feeling hopefull. Now fall is here and it brings storms of change, good change but still stressful because it's change. </p>
<p dir="ltr">It's difficult when you have a lot to do and remember, and your brain just sort of shuts down. I get to keep some functions. I can cook, even though I get really stressed if there's anything that doesn't go according to plan. I can worry about stuff. I can make stuff even though I also make a mess. I've been patching my infinity skirt the last couple of days, at the moment I'm on patch number 20 for this specific round and there's still a ways to go. It makes my back ache but I want to get it done. I've been making some cards and spinning some yarn and carving some stamps. </p>
<p dir="ltr">And I've started thinking about Christmas! Mmmm Christmas. I still love Christmas. Even though I've experienced some shitty ones.</p>
<p dir="ltr">More specifically I've started to think about what I should get for Chris. He's a super tricky guy to shop for. </p>
<p dir="ltr">And of course having several panic or anxiety attacks every day! Woop! Fun stuff!</p>
<p dir="ltr">Anyway, I'm going to bed. <br>
</p>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4544498866205023936.post-37149002409007788242016-08-23T15:29:00.001+02:002016-08-23T15:29:05.527+02:00Denmark <p dir="ltr">You smile at a stranger with a cute dog. They don't smile back. </p>
<p dir="ltr">You call somewhere. A clinic perhaps. They say that someone will call you back shortly. They never do. </p>
<p dir="ltr">You're waiting to cross the street. The light switches to green. Before you're half way over it's red again. </p>
<p dir="ltr">You speak to a shopkeeper while being a woman. They are rude and unwilling to answer any questions. </p>
<p dir="ltr">You lie in your bed at night. You're trying to sleep. Outside your window people are screaming or singing. It's late at night on a Tuesday. A motorcycle drives past, the motor is very loud. </p>
<p dir="ltr">You exit your apartment. The stairwell stinks of cigarette smoke, piss and beer.  </p>
<p dir="ltr">You want to sort your garbage. You want to throw paper and plastic in separate bins. You cannot. There is only one bin. </p>
<p dir="ltr">You want to go out and do something fun without drinking. You cannot. There is nothing else than pubs. </p>
<p dir="ltr">You want to eat at a restaurant, but you don't want to eat meat. You cannot. </p>
<p dir="ltr">Denmark. </p>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4544498866205023936.post-36887634306323844992016-06-12T18:32:00.001+02:002016-06-12T18:32:54.352+02:00Minus thirty<p dir="ltr">On the angst scale. I was at -20, and slowly I got up to -15, and now I'm at -30 and everything feels difficult and horrible. I sleep a lot. My head feels like a blender. My body feels tired, worn out, electric, aching. My stomach hurts all the time. I cry a lot. And of course I feel bad about feeling bad. </p>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4544498866205023936.post-58923027706449375122016-06-02T11:24:00.001+02:002016-06-02T11:24:18.049+02:00Overdrive<p dir="ltr">My head is full of bees. Panicked bees, spinning around and around, buzzing, buzzing so loud it's like a scream. A loud, sharp, high, shrill scream. A scream containing a thousand different screams. </p>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4544498866205023936.post-5559945187057119282016-04-21T01:45:00.001+02:002016-04-21T01:45:57.613+02:00Marathon <p dir="ltr">I've had some serious netflix (and vlc I guess) quality time the last few days. Sleepy Hollow, Wayward Pines, Kimmy Schmidt, Brooklyn 99. Spinning tons of yarn (actually grams because it was silk. But probably kilometers), drinking tea and generally relaxing. And also cleaning up a lot. The apartment looks like a place where grownups live! Amazing!</p>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4544498866205023936.post-53658254261797573252016-04-19T00:39:00.001+02:002016-04-19T00:39:40.677+02:00Prep stress<p dir="ltr">So much stuff coming up! SO. MUCH. I'm so exited but also - even more - stressed out. Travel used to be one of my favourite things, but now I'm obsessing on details, building anxiety over dumb stuff. </p>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4544498866205023936.post-79927679399436652012016-04-18T16:33:00.001+02:002016-04-18T16:33:27.422+02:00Headache and anxiety <p dir="ltr">Sometimes the anxiety brings so much chaos into my mind. I try to control my thoughts but they rush in all directions, making memories that used to be good feel bad to think about and bad memories extremely painful. It's like being covered in bees and trying to not think about it. I can't not think about stuff, because whatever I think about makes me anxious. Whatever road I follow leads into darkness, fear and stress. </p>
<p dir="ltr">Teamed up with a headache it just takes all my spoons and throws them in the bin and charging new spoons take ten times as long as using them, even if I'm just using them to not scream hysterically. I have a broken battery. I wonder if there is any way out of this that I just haven't found out about or if "rest" is the only thing that I get to do for the rest of my life?</p>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4544498866205023936.post-17326566470584418922016-04-16T22:57:00.001+02:002016-04-16T22:57:07.449+02:00Adult weekend <p dir="ltr">The last bit of port, some dates, Sleepy Hollow (the show, not the movie) and spinning silk thread. A very enjoyable Saturday evening.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Soon: dragon age origins!</p>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4544498866205023936.post-31495003672155590602016-04-16T01:36:00.001+02:002016-04-16T01:36:57.507+02:00Peace<p dir="ltr">Life with C is so incredibly comfortable and comforting. He makes me feel safe and loved like no other ever have before.</p>
<p dir="ltr">He's incredible.</p>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4544498866205023936.post-16015798633699288262016-04-14T02:55:00.001+02:002016-04-14T02:55:01.212+02:00Miracles <p dir="ltr">Today a stressful thing happened and I was hungry and I handled it. I was completely in chock. I would normally start shaking really bad, panic, cry, get angry, need to just put everything down and go sit down in another room and generally not handle it well at all. Today I swore loudly and then carried on with what I was doing, not realising until after a little while that I managed to handle the situation. The thing that happened was that the chord for the immersion blender slid onto the stove top because the kitchen counter was too cluttered, and it melted a tiny bit.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Anything to do with things breaking usually garners some hysterical tears at least. But I just finished making lunch like a boss! Even though it had already been a pretty long day with some major bad news concerning a close friend, and I had low blood sugar. </p>
<p dir="ltr">I feel so proud. </p>
<p dir="ltr">The last few days have been really good in general, and usually a few good days means that I get emotionally unstable and have a few bad days since I used up all my happy. This will probably still happen, but I'm impressed that it hasn't happened yet. </p>
<p dir="ltr">We did a pretty big cleanup on Sunday. On Monday I went to the dentist and got my temporary filling swapped for a permanent one and on Monday evening an old friend came to visit, and she stayed until this morning. Last night C's workmate came over and I made a large dinner for the four of us before we went to the board game night, and after that me and my friend went for a glass of wine (beer in her case) before returning home. So several quite intense days without running out of spoons!</p>
<p dir="ltr">Today in the evening I've felt like life is a little bit difficult but I did manage to make a really nice dinner (sweet potato/coconut/lime/ginger soup with roasted chickpeas)! So I still feel proud of myself. Everything counts. Every small bit of progress is worth being happy about. </p>
<p dir="ltr">Now I'm planning on a few days of proactive rest before C's family comes to visit and soon after that we go to Sweden for a wedding! So much stuff happening!</p>
<p dir="ltr">Whoa, it's almost three in the morning. Time for bed.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Thanks for reading  <<u>3</u></p>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4544498866205023936.post-21738940476859241472016-04-04T19:16:00.001+02:002016-04-04T19:16:22.175+02:00The rage <p dir="ltr">I'm so sick of myself, so sick of this uncontrollable anger that bubbles up inside me without warning, sometimes without reason. I get so angry that I want to tear apart the whole world, I want to rip down the sky. It rises like pressure and I can't do anything to subdue it, it rises and then I explode. I hate it. I can't keep it inside, I can't silence the screams that tear themselves from my throat. Primal, hysterical rage grabs my entire body, surges through me like wildfire, like an explosion in a vacuum. I don't have the slightest idea how to handle it, how to de-pressurise my mind, how to make it stop. It comes from nowhere and takes over everything, and after I feel empty and weak and stupid and powerless. And mean and selfish and horrible, for the things I've said and done.</p>
<p dir="ltr">What's wrong with me? Why am I like this? Why do I get this way?</p>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4544498866205023936.post-18521829477536344332016-03-12T14:45:00.001+01:002016-03-12T14:45:35.665+01:00Poop brain<p dir="ltr">Sometimes depression feels like a mental upset stomach. You ate something bad and now your guts are telling you about it big time. But mentally. Like you had a bad experience and now your mind is either refusing to let go, just getting completely mentally constipated, however you try to get these thoughts out of your head it won't work at all, it just hurts and doesn't get better. Or your mind is going a bit nuts, expelling random feelings explosively. There's a steep pressure build up and then you can't hold it in anymore, you explode in rage or sadness and it feels horrible and afterwards you're weak and tired and feel a little bit gross. </p>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4544498866205023936.post-31996206285267436722016-03-05T16:39:00.001+01:002016-03-05T16:49:08.184+01:00One year<div dir="ltr">
A couple of days ago me and my lovely darling had our one year anniversary, we celebrated by being ill! Yay! Now it's the weekend and we're still both pretty crappy. But we love each other and take care of each other and cuddle extra much, as usual. </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
Being physically weak always makes me super sensitive and moody, and I end up thinking too much about small trivial things from my past. I think my shrink would have told me to be okay with thinking about difficult stuff but I really don't want to! So I end up listening to audio books, watching movies and TV shows and playing tons of games (especially the super cute <a href="http://www.handcircus.com/seabeard/">Seabeard</a>!) to drown out my thoughts.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
While listening to books (the <i>Joona </i><i>Linna</i>-books by <a href="https://sv.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lars_Kepler">Kepler </a>and <i>Mists</i><i> of Avalon </i>By <a href="https://sv.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marion_Zimmer_Bradley">Marion Zimmer Bradley</a>) I've been knitting on a brioche scarf and matching mittens for a friend (who asked AGES ago), spinning yarn (as always) and drawing a LOT! And trying (again) to learn some Photoshop! Very rewarding and fun. Definitely balances up my sadness and moodiness a bit. </div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
In a couple of weeks it's time for me to finally fix my tooth, an anesthesiologist has been booked and I will be in a drug-induced sleep during the procedure. It's super expensive so all of march will be in super-saving-mode. No excesses. But in a couple of months we're going to Stockholm! I'm so incredibly exited, it's not completely final yet but we're pretty sure we can make it. That means I might get to see <a href="http://kulturhusetstadsteatern.se/Teater/Pjaser/2016/Du-ska-veta-mitt-varde/">my friend's play about Ayn Rand</a> AND the <a href="http://kulturhusetstadsteatern.se/KonstDesign/Evenemang/2016/VIVIAN-MAIER-IN-HER-OWN-HANDS/">Vivian Maier</a> exhibition! And of course hug some of my favourite people on the planet! Yay!</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4544498866205023936.post-86612529626628694262016-02-13T00:39:00.001+01:002016-02-13T00:39:25.528+01:00All hearts day<p dir="ltr">Is the Swedish name for Valentine's. We're celebrating pretty seriously, it's our first Valentine's. I've never really celebrated Valentine's before, not properly. </p>
<p dir="ltr">I've been preparing all week and today it culminated in a super intense full day of crafting, wrapping gifts and... well, preparing. I don't want to give anything away. </p>
<p dir="ltr">I finally got an appointment for getting my tooth taken care of. It's ages away because I need anaesthesia and the special dentist only has the anaesthetologist (?) come in every hundred years or so. </p>
<p dir="ltr">And I've seen a psychologist, and I'm seeing her again next week, and then she's going to decide what kind of treatment I'm getting and putting me on a waiting list for that specific type of treatment. It can take six months, or more. But still, a step inthe right direction. </p>
<p dir="ltr">Now I'm going to bed because like ten or eleven hours of crafting and prepping has pretty much worn me out. </p>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4544498866205023936.post-63549293816268549242016-01-21T13:19:00.001+01:002016-01-21T13:19:25.367+01:00Heavy days <p dir="ltr">What is it that makes certain days so much harder to get through? Could it be something as trivial as a bad tooth? Is it the antibiotics? Or the infection? The fight inside my body?</p>
<p dir="ltr">Or is it finishing The Shepherds Crown? Because now it really feels like Terry Pratchett is dead. Like The Discworld is dead. Like the portal to that place is gone and lost forever. And that place is one of my favourites. I love his last ten or so books. I like all of them but they did get better and better. </p>
<p dir="ltr">My feckin tooth. Let me tell you about it. In may, while in England, I got a crazy infection in my jaw. I went to a doctor who gave me antibiotics and told me to see a dentist as soon as I got back. I did, they immediately pulled out a wisdom tooth and gave me more antibiotics. They also told me I needed a root canal. However since I was moving to Denmark social services didn't want to pay for it. </p>
<p dir="ltr">So I moved to Denmark. I tried to figure out if I could still get the root canal in Sweden - if I paid for it myself - but I never managed to find out. </p>
<p dir="ltr">So the problem was that "me paying for it myself" meant that Chris pays. I knew that I had to find a dentist, my tooth was hurting more and more, I couldn't eat or drink anything colder than room temperature but I kept putting it off. I knew it was going to cost. </p>
<p dir="ltr">Finally I called the closest dentist. Just around the corner. I got an appointment and went in for a consultation and x ray. Yes, I needed a root canal. It would probably take a couple of go's. Fine. I came in for the first step of the root canal last week, got an injection of anaesthetics (the thing that makes you numb, not the thing that makes you fall asleep). They started to drill. I screamed. It was horrible. More injections. More drilling. More mind shattering pain. I was crying and apologising. They told me not to worry, we would try again on Monday. </p>
<p dir="ltr">On Monday morning I took a diazepam and a citodon. I went in, had 5 injections of anaesthetics (one in my jaw and the rest around the tooth) and then got to wait more than 30 minutes for them to kick in properly. Half my face was completely numb but, of course, the second that drill touched my tooth it felt like an axe hit my lower jaw. I was crying again. They stopped, because there was nothing more to do. </p>
<p dir="ltr">They told me to call my doctor to see if there was any way to figure out what was going on with my anaesthetic receptors, or something (the diazepam had me pretty lost at this point). I called my doctor and they said they could not help me at all (they literally said "this is not our problem" and I said "that is not helpful at all" and hung up). I called my dentist again and they called my doctor and then my doctors office called me and told me to come in an hour later. I slept for 40 minutes and then went to see my doctor, who talked to an anaesthetic...ologist? She told me that there was no way to find out why the anaesthetics didn't work (they had worked before, I have several teeth that have "mendings" in them) but they were confident that it would be possible to put me under (the only other time I've been under anaesthesia - the sleep kind, not the numb kind - was when I was 12 and had to pull out a tooth that hade grown out in the roof of my mouth, super freaky. The thing was that I got a double adult dose and it still took me hours to fall asleep). A lot has happened in medical science during the last 20 years, according to my doctor. </p>
<p dir="ltr">So. I'm sure my doctor told me some more stuff but I was too woozy to understand much. I went back home. </p>
<p dir="ltr">On Tuesday I didn't call anyone. In the evening I realized that I probably should have, but I wasn't sure who. </p>
<p dir="ltr">On Wednesday I called my dentist. They said that they can't do anaesthetics (the sleep kind) so I had to contact a specialist-dentist. I tried to process that information but felt confused and had no idea how to find a specialist. A while later my doctor called me (maybe she's a bit psychic?) and told me where to call and what to say. Today I called that specialist and got an appointment for a consultation for Monday. So we'll see what happens after that.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Until then I'm still in pain and my half-drilled tooth is not making me happy at all. My face is still swollen and everything feels completely horrible. </p>
<p dir="ltr">BUT! I have gotten a time at the psychiatry!</p>
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