Tag Archives: alone

Silent Suffering, All Alone…

Does the grief ever really go away? The one you feel from all that you’ve lost?

The shame, the humiliation, the degradation, the demeaning secret truth of the life you have to… exist with… it just never seems to become “OK”.

To lose so many of the general functions you were used to your body doing for you, that you took for granted… does that ever really become something that’s really “OK”? You lose so much… I’ve lost so much… It’s not OK. Not even close.

It’s hard to know that the people around you just do not understand what you have to deal with… whilst at the same time so relived about that too. But then… they do and say things without understanding the impact on you, or the extent you have to push yourself to meet their expectations, or their level. What I mean is that they just think “popping out” is just something you can just do. Just like that. Or walking just anywhere they want is just fine, etc. When you live with a chronic illness, when you’re living in a wheelchair, when you sometimes can barely breathe because it hurts so much or your just too exhausted to manage it, it’s not that simple. Not even close. Getting out of bed is nothing to them, but to you, that’s every spoon you have and then some. Then they expect you to do even more.

I run on zero spoons. I do as much as I can on it, from going out for the day, to trying to do something normal like reading or reading, to attempting to make some food (which also requires at least one other person, too), but when they’re then a little tired from it they want “a little lie down”… as if they’ve done so much more than you have, expecting you then to do things for them… that really grates on me, and they do it because, quite frankly, you’re so damn used to it and they’re not. You live with the mind-killing exhaustion of chronic fatigue, so you therefore must be more used to it and are OK… Right? I’m not sure what this logic is, but it’s rather mean – and frankly, either ignorant or naive.

It’s not nice when just getting out of bed was utterly exhausting, then spending your day in your wheels, and your (frankly) grown-up Huggies, having no say over when you go or how, and just about able to stop yourself crying from pain or exhaustion or paraesthesia symptoms, or all the above.

It’s horrid when everybody leaves you behind for their “normal” lives, and look on with distain when you turn up in their lives… You’re supposed to deal with it, but Heaven forbid they do for a day or a few hours. What’s worse, is they make their jusgments without knowing the true extent or details… and they really don’t want to, either. What’s worse than the reality of seeing you is acknowledging the true reality of what you have to deal with. And they don’t want to know that… you know, in case it upsets them. Poor, poor them.

It’s hard so see everyone else in your life get on with being “OK” and you struggle to simply go to the bathroom. As your very basic functions, ones that you don’t even remember living without before, fail terribly and leave you stranded back in those days once again… How can you even look them in the eye with your head held high? Siting in grown-up Huggies pull-ups, or giant-tabbed Pampers, knowing they might not even do the job properly, how in hell are you supposed to have any self-esteem left?

I can barely feel anything from the chest, the lower rib cage, down (including not being able to feel the diaphragm), and thus I’ve been left with less and less control over things – first the legs, then a little bit of the pelvic floor, to having no concept of most of my abdomen, or lower abdomen, and my pelvic floor is barely even a memory anymore. Today, a really bad thing happened in this area and it was extraordinarily humiliating, and overwhelmingly shocking – to be faced with the reality of how far my body has slipped from my own grasp has left me reeling and unable to comprehend where I am (figuratively) in my own self, my life, my entire existence.

I’m hurting inside, but again, there’s no one there who really understands what’s going on… and once again I am alone. How do you even explain? It’s horrifying to you, so what does it evoke in other people? If you’re ashamed, what will they think? You can only imagine they would be horrified. Like you are.

I do not know how to deal with feelings. I don’t like feelings. They’re messy, unquantifiable, horrible, uncomfortable, and usually I can’t even cry (which I don’t like anyway because it makes your face soggy). Right now, I have a lot, and I don’t know what to do with them, how to process them, how to manage to get the hell rid of them, to be honest. I think there’s guilt, maybe shame… There’s definitely sad. Loss. Grief. Reeling and shock. But they all get so very overwhelming, and then I get very confused and upset.

In the last few days, maybe a week or so now (I lose track of the days), my hands have started playing up, and started not working properly. The paraesthesia in them is astounding and so painful. I can’t move them they’re so numb (imagine someone tied your wrists so tight it cut off the blood flow and you have them tied up like that all day). They can spasm so badly they curl up on themselves so tightly, they leave deep nail marks in your palms. They can never open out properly, they’re in a permentant “claw”. It prevents me from being able to do even the simplest thing, and also can prevent me from playing games, or even following a conversation because the sensation (or pain) is so bad there is no more room in my brain for anything else. It makes writing [typing] so hard sometimes that if I manage at all, every word has a spelling mistake at best and is gibberish at worst. It’s emotionally painful to endure, to be honest.

I feel like I’ve been left to rot by the system. Everyone has been less than useless. I’ve just been left to my own devices, and I’m floundering in trying to help myself. The diagnosticians throw me to general services (pain clinic, psych, physio, etc) and discharge me to make their targets look good. Those other services have nothing to  offer except inefficiency and long waiting lists you stay on just to see how inefficinent they are. It’s certainly not to be helped by them.

I’m lost, broken and alone, still trying to find something of myself in all this, wondering if I can ever rise to get the better of it, so I am what is driving me, not this.

 


Going Solo

Pain is exhausting… and troubling. It’s now my worst enemy, and today I am facing it alone.

I have an appointment with a physiotherapist to discuss Hydrotherapy today. In two hours. My cab is now booked, my appointment is for 1pm. My friend was supposed to be here with me to help – I am not anywhere near ready to go out somewhere alone. Yet today I must somehow do so. She has an interview today, a last-minute request for a job she wanted – in Wales. So she left yesterday to be ready for it this morning.

I have been alone so far for 24 hours – but that’s not really the problem. The problem is that having to do things myself hurts. Too much. Far too much. So I go without, I avoid, and I do not do anything that will make the pain worse. But today… today I have to do the exact opposite.

I must somehow manage to endure the pain and go to this appointment alone.

 

Solo Expedition

All Stressed OutI am daunted. Overwhelmed. Scared. I’m sitting here, with the Dragon Age Inquisition [PS4 game] launch window that plays the gorgeous symphonic theme music on a loop, over and over again. It’s comforting, soothing, a noise I know well and gives me strength and calm (operate conditioning: it’s how I feel when I’m playing the game, hence it makes me feel the same when I just here the music). I feel rather… trapped. Like a rabbit in a corner that knows it’s going to be done in, and is just waiting for that moment to come, trembling in that corner and just… waiting.

I have never been out on my own before – not since this happened. I don’t like going out anyway. Add this to the mix and I’m borderline terrified.

Somehow, I must prepare my own wheelchair, then get it out of the house (aka tiny flat that the wheelchair doesn’t really fit in) on my own, and over a rather tall hump where the front door frame is quite raised from the floor (I’ve tried getting it over it before, and it’s excruciating and such a difficult to do). Then I have to get it and myself out to the cab. Get in the cab and get to the hospital. Somehow then take myself in my chair all the way up to the physio department. Have my consultation. Then do it all again – backwards.

 

I can only prepare so much, but I’m doing so. I’ve taken Pregabalin, Devil’s Claw, and my joint pills. Just before the can is due I’ll take the 8mg co-codramol (I can’t take anything stronger). And that’s it. There is nothing more I can take. The rest is mental and emotional willpower alone. And my innate stubbornness.

I must try and remember this is no gauntlet compared to what else I have faced in my life and this awful pain I will endure will still be nothing in comparison… Although, that is difficult to remember whilst going through it all. But what is one more crucible when you’ve already had several?

 

It doesn’t help that I was already in a lot of pain this morning – today, the shoes my friend wanted for her interview came… after she left for it yesterday. They came at 8:30am – whilst I was still asleep. I realised it would be the shoes, so I gritted my teeth and dragged myself up on my own (I usually am helped to prevent so much pain), with my stick, and put on my dressing gown and went to answer the door. By the time I then got back to bed, I was in too much pain to sleep anymore or rest, but I couldn’t get up until I had psyched myself up enough to endure the pain it would take to do so.

I couldn’t make coffee and I had to wait until the Pregabalin kicked in… so I didn’t have any until way after 10:30am. It’s already been a nightmare day before it even starts.

Now I have my appointment to look forward to.

 

Uneasy Wait…
Soul on beanbag

Soul

Even Soul (the dog) can feel something is very wrong. He’s lying next to me whining and then trying to play with me, chew me (he’s a Staffie), rolling on his back with his little tail wagging madly, and licking my face, trying to cheer me up. Poor guy doesn’t understand why, but he certainly knows things are just not right.

My head aches, my mind burns, my bones ache. One coffee just isn’t enough… but choices must be made, and I must choose to not inflict more pain than necessary, if it is going to cost me more than I am willing to handle. If I am early enough, perhaps I can get something from the shop/cafeteria or whatever they have there (although, it’s not the best hospital for any services, least of all food – in fact it’s one of the most under-funded hospitals I’ve ever seen, and I’ve been to/worked in many).

It is now just half an hour before the cab comes. I must get everything ready that I can… And I really hope I am physically capable of doing this, even if it does inflict pain. As long as I am physically capable of this, I will manage… unfortunately, the reason I am going is that I am not physically capable of much and require hydrotherapy to support and strengthen me again (with less pain, thanks to the warm water). The idea is you go to hydrotherapy first and then do stuff like this, when you’re stronger. Not the other way around.

I said before Asperger’s and pain do not mix well together. Well, now they’re downright exploding like domino-effect multi-detonations. I’m about two minutes away from a panic attack and subsequent meltdown (hence writing this to calm me and make some sense out of it, and the repetitive gorgeous music from my joint-favourite game). I’m alone with no one to help me… well, no one human. And if I didn’t have Soul here to comfort me I would be in pieces without a doubt.

Now I must go and prepare… and pray that I can somehow make it on my own.

 

Focus On Your Strength

Focus On Strength