I know I've been away for a while. I've just been a bit physically drained recently. It's not that I've given up, far from it. I took a small break which only served as a way of strengthening my resolve. I guess this time of year brings up a lot of horrible feelings. And when you have a reminder of that on your arm every day, it's hard to forget how you felt at that stage. I won't go too far in to the story, but those who know me know exactly how a scar on my left arm was a turning point to getting help and that was probably the worst day of my life. It gets a bit gross here so skip forward a few lines if you aren't easy with that kind of thing.
Basically after a huge arguement with someone and generally feeling like I couldn't cope anymore with being ill (this was early on in my illness journey so I guess you could call it my adaptation period), losing ground on the degree I always wanted and other things, they left (don't even remember what we were arguing about) and I shouted after them "people don't change". I was angry with everyone and everything at that point and I really felt like I couldn't go through this anymore. What happened next was a combination of numbness, a rather stupid action involving a huge toothed bread knife.
I then snapped back and got help. I still have flashbacks of that very moment to this day which leave me shaking and nauseous.
It won't ever leave me. Around the anniversary of this event it gets worse and I still get nightmares about it and seeing that scar always reminds me that it happened but it did also remind me of something else. I survived it. For whatever reason, I've been very resilient and have survived an awful lot in my life. I'm fighting all the time but no matter what gets thrown at me, I just can't stop because there's too many people in my life that I want to keep going for. Maybe, even though I felt like it, I didn't really want to die, I just had to open the valve and get help because I really couldn't go forward as I was.
Right now my lungs are the biggest issue but I've been in the ever frustrating zone where I feel like crap and can't really do much but it's not so bad that I need urgent medical intervention. People think being sick is easy. Don't you just love when people assume you don't do much when you're unable to work due to illness? No? Me either. People often make the assumption that as I don't work, I somehow get to live a slothful life of doing nothing and watching daytime TV. It's so wrong though. The truth is, I have a job. It's a very tough job and it's one that doesn't have regular working hours, breaks or days off. My job is surviving. My workplace is wherever I am or wherever I will be.
It's not easy.
It's not always enjoyable.
I do this job using various tools, strategies and things. I have to make calls to the pharmacy to order my meds, chasing them up whenever it goes wrong (this happens more than you would think) and make sure everything is done on schedule. Although if my deadlines aren't met, I don't face a chewing out from a boss. Instead I have to face symptoms that can range between pain or breathlessness. The closest thing to clocking off is sleeping but that doesn't always go to plan as I can find myself spending hours on end trying to sleep but not being able to, then there's days where I'll sleep a lot. I don't think my body quite understands the idea of regular hours. I don't think it ever will.
So please don't be too upset with me if the house isn't perfect, my gardens need doing or that sometimes I'm just laying about doing something simple or quiet. I am trying. It just takes me twice the effort to do normal things and Jace is busy doing all he can to help and still trying to make time for himself too, so when I'm resting or just laying about, that's really what I need to be doing, like charging a battery.