Letting Go...

Sometimes I wonder to myself when (or even if) things will get better. Everyone always seems to believe that it's the case and that no matter how long this has all seemed to last that it will all stop soon. Well, it hasn't happened yet. Yesterday I spent most of the day doing all manner of treatments and who knows what else to try and avoid being admitted again. I have too much going on at the moment, what with my psych and our American friend returning to see the one he loves as well as my own love coming to see me as well. It's all getting a little crazy at the moment and to be honest, as much as I love being caught up in activity, I am actually starting to hate the effect it has on my body some days. For the last 4 days or so, after the run around and getting through it all, I have found myself taking short naps to try and just make it through the day.

It's been quite nasty and because we're due for even colder days and the possibility of snow and ice, I think my lungs are deciding that they have had enough of this now. I know I probably shouldn't complain, I mean I know there are people out there who have it a million times worse than I do, but there are times when I just feel so sick of being, well, sick. There are times when I wonder how much more of this can I actually take until it completely wears down my sanity to the point where I am little more than a gibbering wreck. And I will admit that there have been times when I have resorted to a very old habit to just make it through the day. I won't go in to great detail as to be honest, a lot of people would struggle to understand anyway, but I did start cutting as a way to relieve the pressure and until recently it was a common thing and after a while I began running out of subtle places to do it and not get caught. I'm breaking that habit now, but it hasn't been an easy one. To be honest, I was feeling rather embarrassed that something that I used to do in my teens was still my primary coping method.That feeling of embarrassment was really close to the surface when last night when I was in A+E being treated for yet another asthma attack that had gotten out of control.

I never in a million years expected for a nurse to look at my arms and when the Sister asked about the scars, she said "Self harm" almost straight away. I'm not used to people noticing my scars, and usually when they do, people jump straight to branding me as an "Attention Seeker" so when someone sat down with me and asked me what had been happening to make me feel the way I had been and how it had gotten to the point where I was looking for either a pencil sharpener blade or piece of broken glass to drag along the skin. Its not been easy to explain how alone being ill can make you feel and how you just want to scream at the top of my lungs that unless you have it, you just don't GET it. It's not really easy when you go on Facebook and see how much fun everyone I grew up with or went to school or college with are having. Sometimes I wish I was out there with them. Sometimes I just feel thankful that I made it this far through will alone. Simply put, although I know at times its what you would think as the "easy" option, but I am really just too stubborn to die.

I spent years lamenting about the past and time I wasted being foolish and reckless, wishing that I had made the most of everything and done everything I set out to. I always knew I had brittle asthma, that much was made crystal clear to me when I was 18, but those 3 years between when it was easier to live with and when I was 21 and it all just went downhill, and I should have spent every hour of everyday filling them with memories and doing everything I had set out to do. I guess hindsight would have been a fantastic thing back then and I would have known that my time to be a "normal" young woman would be limited, but its never the way things work and I know and understand that now. I think I finally allowed myself to let go of "what if" and just embrace what's important to me now. It's not been easy and there were times when it would have been a easier to just give in. I know it sounds strange but in allowing myself to feel what I needed to and do what I had to to relieve the pressure from making me want to burst. I will admit that it was a self-destructive method, but it allowed me to finally let go of everything and I felt better because of it.

Last night wasn't completely unexpected. I know my signs as well as anyone else. For the last week, I was becoming more and more symptomatic (although at times I don't notice because I am so used to how things go that I find it harder to distinguish whats going on). I was more quiet than usual and everyone was noticing that I was just not right in myself and as the days went on, I became more and more disinterested and by yesterday, I was just not right at all. I slept all day and by the time I went in, I was at the point where had I left it to get worse then I dread to think what would have happened. The result was a night in A+E and TTO medications of 50mg pred (never had that much at once before) antibiotics and pain killers. The thing I have noticed, the last few times I have been in, I have been in cubicle 10! There was a point in the late summer that I was in number 12, but as I was lying there just waiting for things to happen, I just looked ahead of me at the uninspiring view! I did amuse myself with the signal my phone had and tweeting random thoughts, this picture made me write about how no one had promised a splendid view!

Once I got home (with kind help from Martin) I sat talking with Becky for a while. Then I was having a cuddle with Kadaj, who when I first adopted him had a reputation towards being a bit vicious, and for the first time ever (hes always let Becky do it but not me) he allowed me to cradle him like a little baby! I guess he is my little baby and I love him dearly, whenever I stroked him while he was doing this, he licked my fingers gently and affectionately. So much for the aggressive "ASBO" piggie of the past!



Loves
Wendy xx