I've been in constant pain for seven months now, and I don't know how much more of this I can take. Nothing has worked up to this point, and just functioning is getting difficult, I'm becoming impossible to live with. I don't even want to get out of bed, but I make myself get up and take a walk because it helps me de-stress a little, enough to prevent me from biting my family's heads off.
My father and I are constantly at each other's throats. He disagrees with me about almost everything. I'm on Gabapentin, which does help my hand tingling to the point I can somewhat tolerate it, and he tried to convince me to stop taking it because it was dangerous. I had to stop PT because it was making my pain worse, and he started going on and on about how it helped his knee. I was trying epidural spinal injections, and he said he didn't try it because it was so dangerous (he also has a spine problem similar to my own), as if I did not know and made a choice based on what I believed was right for me. All he could say after they failed was 'Well, I told you so!' and go on about how bad surgery was and how it was offered to him as an option, and he didn't take that road (that was 20 years ago). I have spent my entire life watching him take multiple medications that don't always work, and he makes everyone around him miserable.
I came back home after four months in BCT, where my problem went undiagnosed and mistreated for two moths and then not properly treated for another two months. I was treated like I was a liar because they didn't find it at first, and had to carry that stigma even after it was found. On the worst day of my life, I had a pain crisis so bad I couldn't sit up or walk unassisted for a week, and my command and the ER docs both told me I was seeking attention and I was not treated for my pain at all (aside from an ice pack that I asked not to be put on me (ice makes my pain worse) but was put on anyways). I carry that with me every day, and it is nearly impossible to talk about. I am terrified of the mention of ice, I have panic attacks, flashbacks, and I can't go out in public because I don't know where to hide if I have a panic attack. I found out that two of my doctors had discussed the fact that I showed signs of PTSD and never said anything to me, even though I had tested positive for it. I didn't even bother telling anyone that I was suicidal at the time because I was afraid they would just say I was still looking for attention and brush me off like they had done with my pain. My father denies that I have anything mentally wrong with me, he says 'oh, you'll get over it, you don't need help, just pray about it'. Now I am a religious woman, but I know it can't fix everything.
I know I need help. Not a day goes by without me feeling like I can't live like this. I know I need to say something (I return to pain management Friday to discuss what happens now that six weeks have gone by and nothing has changed), I need to get help before I hurt myself because it's getting to be all that I think about, but I don't know what to say and I'm afraid of what my father will say. He told me last night that living like this (medicated and miserable like him) was preferable to surgery. I'm not speaking to him right now because I don't want to say something hurtful.
I can't live like that, I can't go like that for the next 60-70 years, I'm only 20 years old. I might want kids someday, what am I supposed to do then, go off all my medication and be in worse pain?
Please help me out with some advice or something, I don't know how to live with this anymore and I'm at the end of my rope.
"The loneliest people are the kindest. The saddest people smile the
brightest. The most damaged people are the wisest. All because they do
not wish to see anyone else suffer the way they do.''-Anonymous