Sleep was fucking terrible again. Constant wake ups for no reason. Didn’t fall asleep the first time until after 12:30. And I woke up at 8:30. Not as tired as yesterday though somehow. I do feel better than yesterday. I feel like the flare up is over, or on its way. Still have a lot of local pain. I don’t know if the lyrica stopped the flare up, or it did it on its own. I went to Loyola Tinley Park to do my x-rays. Forgot all about those on Wednesday. Recovering from Wednesday still. Every day is a fucking 10 round heavyweight fight. Every fucking day. And I don’t get to recover from it. I just want recovery. I’m so fucking tired of fighting every day. Whether I want to or not. Even though I have nothing in the tank to use for the fight. I need recovery and it never comes. I did 5.5g at 1020. 100 now and I feel it dropping off already. The long slog to 330 begins. Short walk. I nearly turned around just after the church. I need the exercise so bad I pushed it. Very slow and difficult. Hit the couch right away. Felt like I needed to pass out while I was walking. Why is this so hard now? I used to be able to do this. Gonna be a tough grind to drug time. Paralyzed on the couch again until drug time. 6.5g of the maeng da. +.5 45 minutes later. The crisp stuff was giving me strong side effects, so I though I would try a different one. I took more because I’m just fucking done. I haven’t been able to play games in a few days. I was hoping I would get something. I’m fucking tired. I need some kind of relief. Something, please. 600 and meds are already done. Pain is super bad and feels like I’m flaring right back up. I maybe got a couple hours of reprieve earlier (not recovery or pain relief), but that’s done. Right back into it. I’m so fucking tired. I’m so exhausted. I have no fight left. What I would give to simply be able to play some video games. Oh boy. 630, hanging on for dear life. I truly regret that walk earlier. If I’m lucky, I’ll pass out soon. I’m just starting to feel it. Just had a flashback to the van. Nobody knows why I lived in that van. And I should never have sold it, and I should be living in it right now. But I hated that fucking van. I hated living in it. I hated being fucking homeless. I couldn’t wait to get out of it. And right after I did, the pain started coming back. Fuck this fucking pain. Fuck my life. All I know is fucking pain. Pain. Pain. PAIN. PAIN. It completely defines me. When normal people aske other normal people, “What do you do for a livnig?”. Pain. And I live in a fucking van because I’m fucking homeless and can’t afford to live in an apartment like a fucking normal person. Oh, and pain. I don’t want to live in a fucking van again. I don’t want to be fucking homeless again. Please. Please help. Just a bit of pain relief and I can do the rest. I can’t do anything now. I am fucking paralyzed. My brain is breaking and doesn’t work right. And nobody fucking cares. 5.5/6.5