My relapse has been nothing but good or bad. It has definitely been ugly. As I have written in my past few entries, I have relapsed with my coinfection, Babesia, and I have certainly relapsed hard.
The remedy for the moment is a round of Coartem, but I might be getting other things added or changed to my protocol as I am suppose to give the clinic an update. My update isn’t going to be full of butterflies, rainbows, and unicorns this time. LOL It happens. I am fighting hard right now and I will put these little parasites in their place.
With this particular treatment, I have had major emotional issues. There have been treatments that I have done nothing but cry for three days straight. Last night was nothing but ugly, and I hate myself for it.
In the evening things were still pretty rough, so Dave brought home Chinese food for dinner and we ended up watching movies together. We ended up watching the Lone Survivor (I would highly recommend), as well as both of the Addam’s Family movies. Laying down for the night at least gave me the strength to get up and moving, and that’s when crazy Kimmiecakes began to strike.
It was time to go to bed and we had just let both dogs out for their last “business trip” of the night. Both were excited to come back inside and jumped right up on the bed. Muddy muddy dirty paws.
I started to get into a black out rage, and started screaming for them to get off, and yanked Chance’s collar to get him down from the bed. I would never do such a thing, and I absolutely hate raising my voice as I know it scares him. There has been many days throughout treatment I have cried and had tantrums, throwing and breaking things in my house. The screaming is never directed toward him but it doesn’t matter, he still gets upset and really frightened. This time it was at him, and I felt like a monster when I realized what I had done. I never yell at him, nor grab his collar. A complete monster. 😦
I began screaming at Dave, telling him that he never does anything to discipline the dogs and I always have to be the bad guy. That I had to go to the laundromat, and that he never helps with the bed and it is still really hard for me to do. That I don’t like sleeping in filth. That I spent more money than I have to buy nice new bedding for us as our other set was falling apart and it had holes in it. I went on and on with this stuff, and I just could not stop screaming at him. During my rage at Dave, Chance was hiding in the corner because of my yelling, and Cooper just looked at me completely confused as he had no idea what was going on, and he has never seen me in a rage before. It has been quite awhile I have completely gone off the deep end, so I suppose I was past due to had a complete freak out.
Dave finally told me to, “Just stop. You need to stop. Get out of here and get ready for bed.” And so I left the room, with my pajamas and washcloth in hand.
I stood there slightly sobbing outside the door, as what I had said and done was coming back to me in bits and pieces and sinking in. Here is the thing though. I HAVE NO CONTROL OVER IT. None. It may be really hard for someone to understand, but there really is absolutely no control. I am not even aware I am doing it until it is too late, as I had just experienced, and I didn’t and still don’t remember everything that happened during that fit of rage. Words just flow, and I literally cannot stop. All I do know is that I had a major guilt trip once my body started to calm down. I knew I was being ugly. Very ugly.
My slight sobbing ended there. My mind and body wanted me to cry, but I was exhausted. Completely exhausted from my episode.
My shower was quick as I felt myself getting weak and find not know if I was going to pass out or have a seizure. Any sort of distress seems to be one of my triggers to have a seizure. I took my handful of nighttime pills and headed off to bed, even though I felt like sleeping on the couch to avoid my three boys who surely were upset with me.
As I laid in my dirty bed, I mumbled softly to Dave, “I love you”. He gave a quick reply, “I love you too.” I could tell he was angry by his tone, but it still gave me enough comfort to fall asleep. In that moment, I sure didn’t love me.
I got up slightly before my alarm for work. Without bedding. Dave had gone to the laundromat to wash the comforter in the morning, the dishes were done, and all the trash for the week was brought to the dump. There was also another batch of clean clothes in a basket.
I definitely wouldn’t advise having an epic freak out to get things done around the house. LOL But things were certainly moving, that’s for sure. Dave is mad. I know he is mad. That is why he was doing everything I was screaming at him about. To prove a point that he could and would do it.
At least my dogs still loved me when I got up and out of bed. I was greeted with kisses and tail wags, so I knew all was forgiven. It breaks my heart I yelled at them. I am so glad that Cooper and Chance can forgive me and still love me unconditionally.
Today was another hard day. I have been tearing up all day, my tics are back, and I am stuttering a lot. I feel like I am in a daze. I set some things up at work for tomorrow and had to leave early yet again. Ugh. I just couldn’t handle doing anything else for the day.
I brought Dave a coffee from Dunkin Donuts as a truce when I went home, as he was out painting the house (yeah I know I was screaming he doesn’t do shit yet he is painting the entire house by himself), and I told him I was sorry. I told him I could not help it. He then said to me, “I know that, but it still happened. If it was the other way around and I acted that way there would be hell to pay.”
He was right. It still happened. I don’t think he fully understands that it isn’t an excuse, and I really have ZERO control over these rages, yet I also know he is pretty forgiving, even though he was clearly still angry. Being angry and forgiving in my mind are two different things. At least I was forgiven, even though I knew he was still mad.
“I am so sorry for what I have done, something that I have no control over. I hope you really know that.”
I teared up and left to go inside. I had no balance, and was looking at the ground as I couldn’t lift my head upright, and stumbled across the yard until I made it to the door.
Someway somehow, after sitting for a bit, I was able to manage to wipe down the kitchen and bathroom sink, and then sat outside trying to suck up to the dogs. I felt like Cruella Deville. I have been making sure their unconditional love continues as I have been feeding them little treats all afternoon. Love meeeee….
I have been hanging out here in my usual spot, the couch for quite awhile now. I am losing my peripheral vision, it reminds me of looking through stained glass. I am weak and just want to curl up in a ball and fall asleep.
Dave is sitting here with be, but there are no words. I am still holding back tears, and I am so angry at myself. I just need him. Even though I know he loves me and he is right here, I need him to make me feel like everything is going to be okay. I don’t think I am going to get that tonight, and I don’t blame him. I am being awful, I am being a monster. I just need to know that everything is going to be okay. That I am going to be okay.
Information on Lyme Rage: https://kimmiecakeskickslyme.wordpress.com/2013/09/29/lyme-rage/ This is a must read for those who are going through it, and to loved ones to try to have a better understanding.