My Single Mom Life

I am in a very bad mental and emotional place right now.
I am struggling, fighting against the pain medicine, fighting against the depression, and I am losing.
I have already admitted once before that my body and mind are addicted to the pain medicines, they make me able to move and do what I need to do.
I wrote that post before, when everything was still a go for the next surgery.
The surgery we decided to cancel.
I never posted about the conversation that I had with my surgeon's nurse Cindy a few days after we canceled the surgery.
He wanted me to go and have another MRI anyway, just so he could see if there was any other way to fix me, a way with less risks, but he knows there isn't.
Cindy told me on the phone that day that there was another main reason aside from the probability that the surgery would over-correct me and instead of facing the floor, I'd be looking at the ceiling.
With every surgery there are major risks, and they are usually between 5-10%, but when he was going over all of the xrays, CT scans, and MRIs, the risk of death jumped drastically.
It went from 5-10% up to a 70% chance of dying during the surgery.
That was very hard to hear but I understand it, he didn't want me to die on his table.

I have been in pain and on medicine for over 10 years.
I have kept up the fight, the hope, that the next surgery would fix me and someday I'd be able to live a somewhat normal life again.
When we canceled the surgery, I had already spent 9 and a half months looking at the floor, the ground, everything I see is down, I see the floor all day, all night, everywhere I go, nothing but the ground.
I kept up my hope for those 9 and a half months, I kept believing that this surgery would fix me, that shaving all of my hair off to be in that halo brace was gonna be worth it, that all of the pain and recovery time would be worth in it the end.
I kept going because I had hope.
I've lost it all.

Everyone is always saying how strong I am, how strong they think I am, but I'm not.
I am so weak right now, so tired, so fucking tired of fighting, of hoping, and for what?
To know that that surgery could have over-corrected me or I would have died.
To know that there is a very real possibility that I will be stuck looking at the floor for the rest of my life.
I have nothing left inside anymore, I am completely worn out.
I am tired, depressed, lonely, and horribly sad for all that I've lost.
It has only been a few weeks since we canceled the surgery, and I am trying so fucking hard to hold it together, to be ok, and I'm not.

I know that there are people out there much worse off than I am, with much bigger disabilities than I have, but it has only been a few weeks since we canceled it, and I am trying to work through all of these feelings, I am trying to be ok.
The depression has gotten to me, I am just lost in sadness 24 hours a day.
I'm so tired of fighting, of trying, and I need time to grieve, to deal with all of this shit.
I have been crying, I've openly admitted to being severely depressed and openly admitted to having horrible thoughts about just ending it all.
But don't anyone get all worried, I'm far too much of a coward to actually take my own life.

In the process of feeling this way, I have hurt and scared the people closest to me, my sons.
As if I hadn't already hurt them enough, they have now seen me at my lowest moments, in absolute and total despair.
For the last 10 and a half years of dealing with all of this, they have had to deal with it too, and no one will ever know the amount of guilt I carry for having put them through all of this with me, and now this.
My sons are at my sister's house and I don't know when they will be coming back.

Everyone thinks they have the answer to my problem, get me off of all of the pain pills, they are blaming the pain pills for my severe depression.
And I'm sure they are contributing to it, I know what they do, how they make me feel, and I hate them, I hate that I have to take them, but removing them completely is not the answer.
I am in pain 24 hours a day, I cannot even move unless I take them.
My head may be stuck down, but when your body needs to do something like cook a meal or do the cleaning or laundry, your body moves any way that it can.
And the way my body moves now is totally different, it strains to move, to do all of the things that it needs to do.
This constant straining causes even more pain, and at times the pain is unbearable and I lay there just wishing I could snap my fingers and make it all go away, make everything go away.
But I can't, there is nothing that can be done, I am stuck this way, and I'm only 39 years old and the thought of being stuck this way forever is unbearable.
Stuck like this with pain at the slightest movement, for the rest of my life is so fucking hard to deal with and no one knows how that feels.
No one will ever understand what that does to a person.
No one knows or understands what all of the pain for all of these years has done to me.
No one ever will.

I had already made plans to talk to my doctor about getting on an antidepressant of some sort at my next appointment which is on the 14th, I had already thought about it and made plans, but in the mean time, while I wait for that appointment, I am struggling, fighting, battling severe depression and bad thoughts, and battling the drugs that I hate to take.
I know what my life without them will be like, I've tested myself a few times, stretched out the hours that I'm supposed to take them just to see if I can do it, and as soon as it wears off, the intense pain comes right back.
I'm being left with no choice.
Get off all of the drugs, get on an antidepressant, or my family walks away.
No one will ever know what my life is like, how any of this feels, how hard it has been to try and deal with, and no one knows more than me how much it all sucks, how much I hate myself, how much I hate myself for all of the years my sons have had to deal with this, no one knows, no one will ever know.
The guilt of putting them through all of this eats at me day and night, it tears at me, it rips me apart, and the more the guilt eats, the more depressed I become.
My relationship with my sons is destroyed, it's just gone, they hate me, hate watching me be this way, and I don't blame them one little bit, I hate it more than they do.
No one hates all of this more than me.

I have fought so hard all of these years to hold it together, to keep going, but I'm exhausted now, so fucking tired of this, of everything.
I can't keep doing it anymore, I can't keep fighting, I have lost all hope of a normal life and I'm so hurt and so lost, and no one knows how any of this feels.
I'm sure the antidepressant will help, at least I won't be so fucking sad anymore, the drugs will make it just numb.
Instead of feeling sad, I'll just be numb, there won't be any feelings but a fake happiness, a drug induced fake happiness, but the problem will still be there.
I'll still be looking at the floor.
No one understands that, no one gets that, all they see is the pain pills and the depression, they don't see the problem because they aren't me!
They don't spend every waking moment looking at the fucking floor!!!!

I am trying so hard to cope with it, accept it, accept that this is my life, this is the rest of my life, and I'm struggling, I'm failing, I can't pull it together.
I can't even express properly how this feels, what it's been like for 10 months to see nothing but the floor, but it sucks, it sucks so fucking much, and I'm trying so hard to deal with it.
And I'm failing.
If I do what everyone else is telling me that I have to do, get off all of the pain pills and go on an antidepressant, I'll just be a fake happy person laying in bed in agony and unable to do anything at all.
But hey, at least I'll be happy right?
I still won't see anything but the floor, but the antidepressants will make me just numb inside while I'm stuck looking at the damn floor.
I'll be even more useless than I am now, the pain will eat at me, and if I even try to do things like cook a meal, I'll be in pain the whole fucking time, and I'll have to go right back in and lay down.
But, at least I'll be on some happy pills that will eventually build up and make me a version of happy that everyone else is going to be happy with.

I am angry, alone, scared, tired, frustrated, pissed off, completely fucking spent.
I have nothing left to give anyone, it's all gone, any last feelings of happiness that I did have are gone.
No matter what I do, my relationship with my sons is ruined and will never be the same.
But I'm going to do what everyone is telling me that I have to do, and I'm dreading it.
I'm terrified of the pain that is going to come, that I already live with all of the time, that the medicine controls somewhat, but without it, I am not going to be able to do anything at all and no one understands that, everyone just thinks it's the magic answer, it will fix everything.
I'll still be stuck looking the floor for the rest of my life, it will kill me physically to even take a piss, but it's the magic answer right now, everyone else who doesn't have the slightest clue what my life is like, what I am trying to deal with, thinks they know better than me.
Take the worst backache you've ever had, and multiply that pain by a million, and maybe it will be close to how I feel day in and day out for the last 10 fucking years.

I have to get up tomorrow and go speak to some counselor, someone else who thinks they know my life better than I do, and tell them all of the shit I've had to deal with all of these years, and wait for them to spew their magic answer at me.
I can't even begin to tell you what the last 48 hours of my life has been like, the things said to me, the hurt, the tears, and I've already been dealing with more than any person should ever have to, but nope, just throw some more fucking shit on, I'm strong right?!
I can fucking take it right?!?!
Well I can't!!!
I can't fucking do it anymore, I can't hold it together for anyone else, let alone myself.
I am just not ok, I'm grieving for the rest of my life, and it's only been a few weeks, and I'm supposed to just snap out of it and be ok, and I can't be, and no one understands that, they don't understand any of it, anything that I have had to go through and live with, no one gets it, no one but me.
So there ya go.
You are witness to a total mental and emotional breakdown and the loss of my family, the only thing I have ever fought so hard all of these years for.
Believe me, if it wasn't for the teens, I wouldn't have even hung on this long.
But I've lost them now, there is no relationship with them anymore, it's gone, it can't be repaired no matter what I do, even if I do what I'm being told to do, it will never be the same ever again.
I've tried so hard all of these years to be a good mom despite all of the pain and depression, I kept going for them, because of how much I love them.
I work so hard to give them the little things that they love, the stupid video games that make them happy, it costs money so I work, and the more I sit here and work, the more pain I am.
But I kept going, I kept doing it all, for them, I just wanted them to be happy even if I wasn't.
Knowing that they were happy and having fun allowed me to feel ok, to feel like I wasn't a complete failure as their mother.
But these last 10+ years of this painful hell has ruined it, they can't do it anymore, and I don't blame them, I'm not angry with them at all, I love them more than anything else.
I've lost it all, I've lost whatever grip I had, I've lost my sons, even if they come home, they hate me, the relationship is ruined and can never be repaired, it can never be what it was, and I'm finding myself in such a bad place that I'm asking myself what is the point of even trying anymore?
I've lost them, they are the only things I kept going for, and it's all ruined, no matter what I do, it will never be the same ever again.
I can't fix it, I can't fix this no matter what I do, the damage is done.
So yeah, sure, throw some antidepressants in me so I can be a drug induced fake happy for the rest of my life and everyone else will feel better but nothing will ever be the same again, not for me.
They will never forgive me or forget these last 10 years in hell, and I really don't blame them, I would hate me too, I do hate me, I hate everything about me.
I hate every single minute of every single day, and now that I've lost them, now that I know they will never forgive me or forget any of this, it's all so much worse because they are all that I have ever cared for.
I am in so much pain, physical, emotional, it's just too fucking much for me to handle anymore.
And no!!! I will not let go and let god, it doesn't fucking work, it's all fake mumbo jumbo shit that some damn counselor is going to ask me about tomorrow.
Do I believe in god or a higher power?
And the answer will be a resounding no, and then they'll start in with the "Your higher power can be anything, it can be a rock, a tree, a whatever, as long as you have one, so get one and give all of this pain over to your higher power to handle."
You have no idea, no one does, I am just in so much pain right now, so lost, so scared, tired, hurt, I just want it all to stop, to end, and I cannot deal with losing my sons.
They're all I have ever cared about, I have fought all of these years for them, and it's all gone, all ruined, can't ever be fixed, so really, what is the point to any of this shit anymore?
It really doesn't matter what I do, it will never be enough, too little too late, never be the same again.
This is all just too fucking much and no one will ever ever know, ever be able to understand, and I'm supposed to just snap out of it, get off all the pain drugs and start taking one to make me be a fake happy person with my head stuck down for the rest of my life.
This is all just way too fucking much, I've lost them, I'll do what everyone is saying is the magic answer, I'll get off the pain drugs, take the happy drugs, and just have a drugged up fake smile while laying there in my bed in horrific pain for the rest of my life, I'll be smiling again, eventually, with my head stuck down, never seeing anything but the floor ever again, but I'll be wearing a smile the whole time and it really doesn't matter anymore, it's all lost, all gone, the only thing I have loved and cared for was my sons and I've lost them.