I got stoned last night. It wasnít intentional, though. Itís just that I neglected to space out the dispensing of my meds (muscle relaxer, prednisone and Topomax) throughout the day, and ended up taking them all at the same time shortly before I went to bed. That would have been okay, but because I am in the midst of an absolutely stupefying flare-up, I added a painkiller to the mix.
After that, as tired as I was, I could not go to sleep because of the rock opera going on in my head. Iím dead serious. A rock opera of my own composition. It was very freaky.
At times, I felt myself drawn in and fascinated by what was happening. I kept thinking, ďHow can I be doing this? Lyrics, maybe, but I have no talent for music. Where is this coming from?Ē
At other times, I felt scared. The fact that the room was tilting and my heart seemed to be racing might have had something to do with that.
Pain sucks. So does not being able to sleep when thatís what you so desperately need to keep the pain at a tolerable level. Not to mention the demons at bay.
Song of the Day: Everybody Must Get Stoned by Bob Dylan