To Drug or Not to Drug

I usually find that I don't need as many meds when I just stay home and veg. When I'm "trapped" in public, I seem to need more. Flying is hell for me - stuck in a small space with no opportunity to lie down for hours. It's always a trade-off, sharp pain or the blah feeling from meds. I try to sleep without meds sometimes at night to avoid building up a big tolerance for them, but then after a couple nights of problem sleep, I usually take a bedtime cocktail so that I at least wake up well-rested the next day (even though my tailbone will throb).

I get so tired of doing this day after day. There's no therapy left to try. I'm stuck in this chronic pain condition and I feel like my life has withered away. I think about what I was doing 2 years ago before this happened, how naively trusting I was of the orthopedic surgeon that did the microdiscectomy that made everything so much worse, and what my life could have been. I border on modest depression most of the time. Everyday it's a matter of when and where the pain will hit, not if it'll hit. Little things like going to work or cleaning up at home become a challenge. I live in this world of pain that's invisible to most people and that most people can't comprehend what the range of symptoms feel like. I dream about it going away at night or at least getting some more relief from it, but it's the same crap in reality day after day. I get pissed when people ask if I'm feeling better. It's a chronic condition, it doesn't get better.

If I Could Sell Off Part of This Problem

Lately I've been thinking about the "too much" feeling I have. If only:
- My pain was on one side, not both
- My pain was in my feet, not my legs and butt
- I had neuropathic pain, but not the aching pain in my lower back
- The disc rupture had been a little smaller
- I'd realize the significance of the little warning signs I had about my discs prior to the blow-out
- I could look forward to feeling better in the future
- I could sit, walk, and sleep more easily
- And so on...

I feel exhausted a lot, still. I've also become quite reclusive. Not voluntarily, but more because it takes so much energy to go out and do stuff, and often the pain flares up and ruins the experience. I've been frustrated lately -- I wasn't expecting to have a big health problem like this in my 30s (nor get to carry it for the rest of my life). There's not much improvement I can make or do at this point. I'm tired of life being me saving all my energy for work, then coming home to rest and recuperate. Most people don't sit and smile at work while their legs are on fire or their rear end throbbing. But I pull it off and people seem surprised to know I have a condition at all.