Its been a good few weeks since my last blog. I guess I was just embarrassed about a few things that have been making me feel really bad about myself and I just didn't feel much like talking about any of it. Its been hard to get to grips with a lot of things, but I really didn't want to post for fear of being either judged or yelled at by various people. People are often quick to make judgements and criticize others for their less than perfect bodies and minds.
I am not perfect. I am flawed and I do have a LOT of unresolved issues in both my past and present, but I do work on them. I do get up every morning and try and keep a positive outlook, but there are days that this just doesn't happen and I feel my world coming down with a bang. I have often said this and I still believe that I am not the worst out there, nor am I the only disabled person now or ever. I do get up every morning feeling thankful for the fact that although things aren't easy,
I am STILL ALIVE.
I am STILL HERE.
I nearly gave up at the weekend. It has to be said. I was just so fed up with everything and wanted oblivion. I had began to write a text for my friends and family, telling them how I was feeling and in some ways saying goodbye and I'm sorry. I was saying that I was sorry for being so weak and just not able to carry on anymore. Then I stopped. I put the pills back and realised that this was a selfish act. Suicide is selfish and it never solves anything. Yes it meant that I wouldn't be suffering, but the price would be causing my friends and family, the people I love, to suffer and that would have been a lot worse. It's toying with not only my own, but other people's lives and its not fair. On anyone.
A lot of my problems began when I tried to stop taking the Seroquel (an atypical antipsychotic medication) after leaving Steve because I didn't want to think I'd need it anymore. Yes without him it is honest to say that I am not only happier, but finally able to get back on track. Maybe I thought that getting rid of a destructive force in my life would allow me to conquer my mental health once and for all. I didn't take in to account the scars which run both inside and out.
Inside my lungs is a LOT of scarring and some of the smaller airways have shut off completely. This means my lung function is only about 34%. I upset the scarring last weekend and had myself spitting blood for a few days as a result. All I had been doing is singing on Rockband and having some fun where suddenly, out of nowhere this black stuff started coming out when I was coughing. Black tarry clots of blood, and a visit to the doctor later and I found I'd made the scaring bleed slightly, which would settle down by itself. It was painful but it did settle down eventually.
So I guess thats all I've been doing just lately.
3 years ago