Sciatica

I don’t feel as if I’m being stabbed in the back any more. Instead I feel like someone has taken a baseball back to my right hip and slammed the butt of a rifle into my lower right back.  I’m feeling dull aches down the right of my leg to my knee, I can’t find a comfortable place to lie. Rolling to either side I suffered a chronic ache and felt sharp pain turning,  I was woken at 3 am and 5 am. I took more ibuprofen and robaxin. I wish I had flexeral and ketorolac.  I was able to fall back to sleep hoping to get some today before another night. This is now the fourth night of pain.

But I walked Madigan at 5.  I was able to do half round, maybe 20 minutes walking. Yesterday I couldn’t make 10 minutes and I was limping,  I’ve been in the hot tub and swum a dozen lengths different strokes each day. I tried exercises stretching. I’ve been doing more each day but I don’t find any gives much relief. I’ve found sitting cross legged meditating helps,  

I’m irritable and afraid,  I carry resentments and get flashbacks to old trauma.  I’m flying and mobs are chasing me.  I’m being arrested by corrupt officials working for the evil and corrupt.  Crack addicted prostitutes are lying and defaming to horny judges. It’s themes of betrayal. Drug addicts are killing my dogs. I’m held hostage by insane people.  Some desk jockey living in a bubble is judging me and I’m still protecting him. I’m the last line of defence between him and the zombies but he’s micromanaging from mars. it’s like the Crimean war telegraph. But in my head. I pray constantly to find peace but the pain is screaming.

I’m so sad and disappointed.  

I miss my mother. I ‘ve been remembering her holding me when I was hurt.  I remember my brother Ron in the other bed.  I miss Dad and his rifles and uniform from war.  Protector.  There is no pretentious from Trudeau. He has made war on the old and invalid.  He steals from banks. Declares martial law on a whim. Looks more gorked than the DTES addicts.  Repeats lines.  A puppet for Xi and WEF.  We’re fucked.  

I want to give up and retreat to oblivion, But it’s all a construct. The media corporations selling fear and insaniety.  Amber Heard’s poop is everywhere,  

I know that reality is better. I’ve a little dog that cuddles and licks my tears. I know he’s trying for a booger but he licked tear away probably unintentional.  He likes ears and noses.  He ate a comforter.  He likes entering the washroom with me.  He’d gladly go for human poop. I found some underneath chewed.  The dogs in tribal society cleaned the baby bums .  It’s not something to think about when he brings kisses.

He’s comforting.  I’m glad I walked him today and he had a poop I scooped into a bag and dropped into a dumpster.  

I though it ambulances and hospitals in the wee hours.  Again I thought of their chairs and needing to lay on the dirty floor waiting.  I stayed in my pain in my bed.  

I believe I’m getting better.  I hope I’m getting better

I couldn’t walk without major limping and unsteadiness for two days but today I’m upright and though I’m weak and in pain I’m steady.

Pain is 50 to 90% psycho in the psychosomatic equation. Sure I have traumatic arthritis.  Some L4-L5 or L5 -S1 disk or joint is upset but the main issue is my self pity and weariness I’m burnt out,  The chronic complaining and no solution but to ‘feed’ rather than to teach to feed themselves as the problems of the world are overwhelming and insane, Inflation and financial fear is real,  Supply chain faults.  Riots around the world.  Covid and vaccines and corrupt government and the totalitarian UN and Trudeau horrible little man stealing the country blind with his third world low brow evil.  I’m afraid. I’m small. I am old.  I’m alone.  

The stress results in my being tense.  I struggle to attend.  Sleeplessness makes a hard task harder.  

The winter cold has come

So much of my joint pain is barometric. The storm rain and cold are the problem.  I can tell the weather my grandmother said. I feel the weather poignantly and want dessert dry heat praying that that will heal. Don’t know if I can drive.  The distance.  Expect I can. Don’t know if I can tent.  Finding dog friend motels a challenge.  Carrying luggage. Will it be possible, I’m due to leave in the morning.  

I hear a mouse or rat behind the electric heater in the crawl space.  I’ve the ultrasound deterrents but it just reminds me how I miss my cats.  I’d like a cat. When I return in December I’ll get a kitten. That will warm Madigan’s heart. He’s only got me and he needs more companionship. He loves when Laura is here. We’re goof together Three.  But the young girls don’t want old men especially the sick and frail.  No one is there fo care for us.  My ex wives didn’t want husbands they wanted wives and I was worn out making money, triple what they did, protection and providing, cooking, cleaning, entertaining, all roles. Now I’m cross dressing.  Anima and animus.  Women alone are more narcissistic than the playboys. Rather there are Trudeau’s and Eva Brawn’s and whiner me.

I watched comedy in the wee hours.  I don’t know if there’s rats or it’s the wind in the air vents. It’s gone now and the noise comes when the furnace is on or now when I’ve put on the electric heater.  Probably air vents.

I spilled coffee on the floor and vacuumed it up,  

It’s 7 am, The Creed came on the ipad sound .  I’m tired. I think of phoning in to cancel the afternoon,  I want to nap now that I’m hearing the alarm. In the night I worried about work fearing I would make a slip, say something not perfect. The demand for perfection and the anger is palpable today.  The drama queens are finding no one cares and taking it out on the helping staff.  I’m losing patience with pain.  I understand. I know but right now I’m sore and tired. I hope to lie and sleep and tan and recoup. I don’t have holidays or vacations. I just have a period to retool to return to the wars.  

It’s like this when I plan a few days off. I’ve four days of driving, camping.  Driving soothes the soul.  I’ve a great companion in Madigan.  I’m looking forward to that.  I believe the pain will lift as I am released from the overwhelming demands for perfection and the threat of torture and verbal and emotional abuse if I’m not universally loved and admired among the angriest of patients .  

I’m afraid.  Anaxneity is a measure of one’s distance from God.

God where are you

I meditated this morning and felt you near but in my pain I feel myself so far away.  My God My god why hast thou forsaken me,  It’s pain that challenges faith.  I love you God.  I know you love me. This is illusion. Maya.  There is only God. There is only love. The perception otherwise is deceit. That’s the lie. The darkness. Satan, I’m okay. All shall be well and all manner of things shall be well. The long dark night of the soul,

Thank you Jesus, Thiss too shall pass. There is only God and God is Good. Thank you Jesus..