This is partially an excerpt from a journal entry on 7/20/24. It was 2 days after my first RF ablation procedure. It led to a good day the day after the procedure. It led to some lucid moments, which then leads to the realization that I hadn’t been lucid for quite some time. Even on the days which I thought were good days. Those weren’t good days at all. They were merely decent days.
The psychosis that these high levels of pain produces is so incredibly painful in its own way. It’s a sort of pain that is pretty impossible to describe. I can’t describe it at all when I’m in the middle of it. When I’m in the middle of it, I don’t even know I’m there. I don’t know I was experiencing psychosis until I feel better and look backwards. Then I stop and say, “Holy shit, I was so insane just then.” It is the sort of pain I would do anything to avoid, but I never can.
By the time I finished writing all this, the psychosis was back in full effect. I was unable to come up with any other observations. I’m not sure what I came up with at the end was worth anything, because I was already gone. The delusions set back in. The madness was at full volume. I guess that’s the last realization. The madness is like a very loud noise that drills into your skull, on and on for months at a time. It’s one of those noises you don’t realize is there anymore until it shuts off. Then you stop and say, “Hey, the noise finally stopped.” Kind of like when a thunderstorm passes. It’s been gone for a while, but you finally realize the thunder has passed. I can’t put anymore thoughts into words. Here is the excerpt:
July 20, 2024: I had the realization last night that I was going in and out of lucidity all day yesterday. I had a couple moments where I listened to music, and actually felt it. At night I realized I picked up some new music a few weeks ago. I even forgot the band names. I had to find it and then I listened to it and it was great. Beautiful music. I noticed the wallpapers on my PC. They are an art style I really love, and I haven’t even noticed they were there for a very long time. I even put on my favorite film for a little bit. I forgot that film existed. I didn’t watch that much of it. I want to save that for the right time. It was when I put the film on that I realized I was lucid.
That brings me to a much larger issue. I haven’t felt lucid in a very, very long time. I’ve written about psychosis before. It’s something I have to deal with. When the pain and fibromyalgia get so bad, it tends to break the mind. You don’t really realize you’re in a state of psychosis until you’re no longer in it an you look backwards. Yesterday I had that chance to look backwards, and the scary thing is, I can’t remember the last time I’ve actually been lucid. Maybe before Christmas time is my best guess. I have a new measure for “good” days. I have to actually be lucid to call the day “good”. Otherwise it’s just a “decent” day.
Even on the days I’ve called good over the last couple months, and those days are very rare, I haven’t been lucid like yesterday. I keep having these delusions that I can somehow get better, or on those decent days, I think I am better. I think I’m normal. I think things are going to be OK. Days like yesterday do a very good job of grounding me. I realize all those days where I had optimism, it was all bullshit. I was delusional. I was still crazy. Those are some of the most dangerous days. In the past, I have done things I end up regretting. I make major decisions or purchases because I think I’m able to do it, but the reality is that I’m still off the deep end, but I just think I’m OK. That’s how psychosis goes. You never understand it until you’re out of it and you look backwards at it.
And to finish this off, I am no longer lucid this morning. I realized it in the middle of the night. I’m close enough to it this morning to be able to write about it, but I also know it’s gone. I wanted to write about it first thing while I still had a grasp on it. I won’t remember any of those things I rediscovered yesterday. I won’t remember what being lucid feels like. I won’t remember that I was lucid yesterday, and that I’m not lucid today. I will just slip back into psychosis, and it’s way too easy to do so. It’s so fucking painful, but so easy also. It’s enough to make you cry when you realize you’re going to slip back into it. It will drag you kicking and screaming, but that will stop once you cross the line and your memory is wiped and you are firmly re-planted onto the wrong side of that line. It’s easier if you spend only a short time on the good side of that line. There isn’t any time to get used to feeling lucid, so there isn’t as much to miss. You also don’t get as much time to realize just how painful the insanity has been, and it is oh-so painful. I would do just about anything to avoid it, but I never can. I don’t want this insanity to come back. It is a whole type of pain that is extra and on top of what I already deal with. 3 levels of pain: Spine pain, fibromyalgia, and psychosis. All with an exponential effect. The “Pyramid of Doom”.
Pain is back up to normal levels, which is to say very nearly horrifying this morning. Something about that procedure gave me a boost. Maybe it was the cortisone injections, maybe my body was in some sort of healing mode where it released some kind of growth hormones. I really don’t know, but I can feel that it has been turned off this morning. This procedure isn’t expected to work overnight. It takes a couple weeks to start working properly. And they only did half of my spine, so there’s more work to be done next month, so this isn’t the end yet. It very well could be the untreated half overpowering the part that was just treated. It’s super demoralizing, but it’s not the end. There of course is the possibility this procedure won’t work, and in my doctor’s words, then I’ll be “screwed”, but I’m not there yet. It’s going to be a long and super difficult slog until I get to that point.
So goodbye lucidity. It’s been so long since I’ve last seen you. You are my very best friend and I have missed you so. I hope I see you again very soon. I wish you didn’t have to leave, but I understand. I struggle so very hard without you, and I could use you very much right now. I wish you would stick around longer next time. I long for the day you never leave again. And now I am crying.