Thinking, writing, coughing
For those at home in need of distraction and some humor, watch the documentary on Nora Ephron. Although she was infamous for writing everything and anything about her life, it was the most significant health crisis that she had at the end of her life that she managed to keep secret from everyone close to her.
Sometimes I feel like I am dying, I had a dream last night that I was in a twenty year old body, prancing around the streets of the city I live in, in a little teensy weensy bikini. Only, it turned out I was terminally ill and didn't tell anyone. Before I went to sleep, I asked my spirit and my soul for some guidance through a dream. That's what you gave me?
Shit, I woke up even more depressed.
I am not having a terribly good day. You could say I have fallen into despair. I think that accurately describes it.
My nerves are burning. Lots of new symptoms and no outlet because I can no longer exercise due to being quite sick. I tried watching some Sarah Silverman but I didn't even feel like laughing. I meditated for 45 minutes and felt some surges of electricity but nothing feels right.
Trying to keep my head above water.
My husband has taken the kids to get their haircut, now to a late night show, yesterday on a hike to a waterfall and lunch with friends, the week before to a pool party with other friends. I. Have. Been. Home. Home. Home.
In bed. Or near the bed. Sitting down. Laying down. Sitting up. Moving lazily from one soft cushion to another.
I feel defeated. Despondent. Life is happening but I am not a part of it. Even when I have been doing little things here and there I have been so absent. My kids grabbed me for a big hug today. The guilt I feel is enormous.
And yet, I can't be around them for long because I am so ansy. I need to keep moving, walking, doing and now....the universe has flattened my capacity to do so. I have taken off another week of work. My third week of work off. And my husband's third month off work. Feeling nervous. Feeling resigned. Feeling like I want my life back. I look at photos of me healthy and happy (let's say happier) and I want those moments back. I want 4 years ago back. But we can't go back. And I know that that kind of thinking leads to only more despair and more suffering. I have ten more days off and if I have to look at my garden and my couch all day I think I will lose it. I know I need rest. It's the only way out. Out where? When am I coming out? Am I just starting to head into a dark tunnel? After all, it's the end of my taper not the beginning. Many questions and today I don't feel hopeful I feel I need to survive this for my children. I feel scared and hopeless. Not even the doctor can reassure me, because quite frankly he doesn't know and I don't know what my CNS will do at the end. I feel it frayed. I feel it frying. I feel myself sinking. This is a marathon like no other. I don't wish this on my worst enemy. I want to know what the fuck I can do moving forward to stop this from ever happening to anyone again.
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Someone who found themselves accidentally dependent and suffered an iatrogenic injury from medications that were prescribed. Sharing experience, strength and hope with others. This is written as a person on this winding path and NOT as a professional. Please contact a licensed professional for any medical/psychological care or advice. This is NOT a substitute for medical or psychological care. What is written here reflects my own personal experience ONLY.