The cold is mostly gone, but the asthma is getting worse. My nurse, S, wanted me to go to the ER, but I said no. They probably would’ve just blown me off like urgent care did last week. I do have an appointment tomorrow at my PCP’s office–not with the doc I usually see, but hopefully that’ll be okay. They’ll probably want to put me on prednisone, but it makes me psychotic and suicidal.
And I have the GI appointment Thursday to start the Humira. Fun times. Who needs an immune system?
I just don’t think I can take much more. I’m sick all the time, and I don’t have the energy to do anything. This isn’t really a life.
I’ve been thinking somewhat seriously about stopping all my meds and just letting it kill me. It’s not like I’m really living. I want a life so badly, but I can’t tolerate any more of this. I can’t keep pretending I’m strong and brave. I’m just not.
It didn’t help that I had a terrible therapy session, either. A kept pushing me into talking about something I’ve told her several times I don’t want to talk about because I can’t deal with the feelings it would bring up. She pushed, and I shut down. I could see it happening, but I didn’t even try to stop it. I remember bolting out of there at the end, but most of the rest of the session is gone. I don’t want to go back.
Basically, I don’t want to do any of the things I should. I just want to lie in bed until I disappear.