... and I'm feeling good.

I think the Lyrica has stabilised after the settling-down period. I’ve been taking it for two weeks now, and this morning I experienced a little pain; not enough to concern me, but it was noticeable. I’m seeing my GP in a couple of weeks, so I think I’ll have to ask for a higher dose – I’m taking 75mg twice a day, and he said there was a lot of room for raising the dose if I needed it – just to make sure I’m getting the best pain relief I can from it.

Lyrica has already been a blessing. Even on a low dose, the pain has reduced dramatically. My arms don’t ache anymore – and I can lift them above my head for the first time in years – and my thighs no longer feel like somebody’s stabbing them with a blunt spoon when I wake up. The anti-inflammatories are helping with the joint pain more than I expected; my fingers still hurt, but my wrists and ankles don’t feel weak and painful anymore.

Today’s a rest day. The sun’s shining outside, but I’m sitting on my bed, half-typing and half-watching television. The window’s wide open next to me, so I can enjoy the warmth and sunshine without having to sit on the uncomfortable bench in the garden. Yesterday, I sorted clothes to give to charity and helped around the house, clearing my extensive toiletries collection from the overcrowded bathroom and sorting things online for my mother. It’s the first time I’ve slept well on a Sunday night since I can remember – I always feel uncomfortable and alone when I come home from staying with S – and I got up early; around 8am. This morning, I got up even earlier, making a coffee at 7am and settling down to reply to emails. I slept for 11 straight hours last night, and woke up feeling properly awake and ready for the day; no nightmares, no going back to sleep, and no waking that I can remember.

It’s years since I’ve slept properly. It feels like a miracle.

Perhaps it’s all the weed I’ve been smoking recently, but I feel pretty blessed right now. Not in a religious way – I’m not about to suddenly find god – but just in the sense that I have plenty to feel good about right now. For over a decade my life has been a struggle – panic attacks, paranoia, failed relationships, lost friendships, life in the mental health system, unexplained diagnoses – and at this moment in time a lot of stuff is under control, or I’m at least trying. I never used to try; I just accepted my fate. Now… perhaps things can change.

I have S, who is the best boyfriend I’ve ever had by miles. I love him dearly, without jealousy or resentment. I trust him not to hurt me;  I’ve never trusted anybody else like that. He makes me happier than I ever thought I could feel, just by smiling at me. I’m far from a novice when it comes to relationships; I’ve been engaged, lived with partners, loved, hated and cried. I’ve had long-term relationships and short disasters. I was with the same person for four years. I know how love feels, and how relationships work… and I love S with all my heart. He’s amazing.

I have pain-relief. Finally, I have something which works. I’m no longer bed-bound for most of the week, and I’m starting to feel I could start achieving something again, after giving up entirely on any idea of a decent future.

Last year, I got my diagnosis of borderline personality disorder, after years of ruining relationships and acting in ways I didn’t understand or much like. In truth, I hated myself for lashing out and being so suspicious of everybody; I felt like an awful, obsessive person, one of those women who refuses to ever let a relationship go and boils bunnies in her spare time. Now I know why I react in that way, and I can work on fixing it. I’m already improving.

Finally, I’m really enjoying writing. Loving it. I feel like me again.
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