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The Black Dog

Community submitted piece that wanted to remain annoymous so for now just Black Dog

I’ve had, morphine, a 1/4 full vaporiser cartridge of a medicinal grade marijuana and a 1800mgs of a pain inhibitor and it’s not even 8am yet. Mix that in with my anti depression medication, washed down with a piece of toast and a can of V and that is just enough to get me out of bed and work… sometimes.

Welcome, to my fucken life.

Now, I’m not the drug addict you are probably assuming I am.

Seriously.

I’m a pretty decent person.
However I’m in pain.
I’m in pain mentally. I’m in pain physically.
Chronic back pain mixed with mental illness can be a volatile mix. I’ve learned this recently.

What you need to understand about a person in pain is they will do anything and everything they can to get rid of that pain. This includes mental pain. Anything; Everything.

Here’s a typical day for me –

If I manage to get there and haven’t succumbed to the mental difficulty I have with getting out of bed. (That is a whole ‘nother post.)

10am – The pot is wearing off, the inhibitor is taking over and the morphine is ticking away nicely in the background. I can walk normally, but I feel virtually nothing below my waist. This may worry some people but for me it’s one of the best parts of my day. It’s a part of my day when I am pain free.

Midday –
It’s time to re-up.
The weed, physically, gets left at home. Aside from what is in my blood stream.
The morphine and other pills and potions I have been prescribed remain… Codeine, Tramadol, Ibuprofen and Panadol, may as well me placebos for me now. Sugar pills.

2pm – The pain is too severe. Sitting is impossible, standing makes the pain worse. Lying down isn’t an option and I’m not very good at head stands. What I wouldn’t give to be able to curl up into child’s pose right now… or fetal pose.

6pm.
Finally. The marijuana relief combined with morphine and everything else… I’m perking up. The pain lingers, uncomfortably in the background, like that fart you did an hour ago but you are sure you can still smell it… So I opened the ranch slider. It didn’t help my back but it confirmed the smell was actually the sickly yet intriguing aroma from my next door neighbours dinner.
I’m smiling with relief and dry retching like a cat about to vomit at the same time.

9pm.
Bed time. Acupressure mat time. Sleep time. This is painlessness and it’s best. The acupressure mat is my life saver. The clicks that release the pressure reverberate up my back and relief is mine.
All mine…. I’ll just lie here a while.

Fuck.
I need to pee.

Overall I consume a truck load of drugs every day. Recreational or pharmaceutical I consume them for the same reason. To escape my pain. To escape reality for just a little while.

I go to sleep dreading waking up.
The alarm goes off. It’s 6am. Time to get up. I lie still for a few minutes, painless mentally and physically.

I gather up the courage to move.
Nope, unlike those lame movies or stories where the author wakes up and finds it was all a dream, pain is my reality.

I start my daily regime again…

Welcome, to my fucken life.

Black Dog.

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Empire motoring Journalist, Vlogger and general larakin. Pro food and lifting heavy things.

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