Tag Archives: depressed

Unchargable Me

I really hate these flare-ups… Is it just Fibro, or is it more? I’m just so exhausted I can’t think straight, or even at all, anymore. It makes me so ridiculously ill, so tired and drained, so unable to do anything, not function at all.

I am lost inside it. Numb and dead inside with nothing more to give.

Drained Fatigue. Exhaustion beyond all comprehension. Exacerbated paraesthesia or neuropathy.  “Buzzing”. “Paraesthesia pain”. Severe internal temperature fluctuations, like when one has severe fever or flu. Bad Palpitations. Severe Nausea. Blackouts. Inability to wake up. 

Emotional fear. Scattered mind and thoughts. Inability to comprehend even basic things. Even less capability to remember things. No focus at all. Unable to do just about anything. Left with vacantly watching rubbish on TV because can’t focus. High Distress. Depression. Severe Hyper-Anxiety. Terrified – of everything. Overwhelmed. Barely able to move. Unable to function. 

All I do are the basics. Less than the basics. And yet this is still what I have to live with – that and so much more. It doesn’t seem to matter that I try and do as little as possible… I still end up feeling so awful, so drained, in pain. If I try and do more than nothing, then this… thing… punishes me relentlessly, by making everything so much worse.

This makes it so completely horrible, unmanageable, un-livable. I am unable to do anything I want to, and that’s not because I’m in so much pain or can’t walk. It’s because I am so very too exhausted to do anything. There are things that can be done to control pain, Fibro… well, to a certain extent, anyway… but there seems to be nothing to combat inexplicable and extreme exhaustion that’s so bad it makes you pass out. Might not be too surprising that coffee is barely of any use whatsoever, either. So there’s nothing at all to combat it. You really do just “have to take it”. Without a single antidote to be had to help at all.

Sleep does nothing. “Rest” does nothing. How can you even “rest” when everything all around you confuses and terrifies you? When you’re so anxious, so distorted, so “zoned out”, so unable to function whatsoever… how can you really “rest”? It’s like I’ve got a broken health bar… or one from Dragon Age: Inquisition… It just doesn’t regenerate at all. And I’ve got no potions to bring it back either.

Taking me out of the game, for as long as its there. Or maybe, quite possibly, for good.

 

 

 

 

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Falling…

I have the headache from hell. It’s been here since Storm Irma hit landfall in Florida a few weeks ago. It’s not going away now though.

I went to London for 3 days – home again after two whole years. Four years since I’d been to where I used to live and the West End, because once I moved to Leyton and was ill, I never could go back. I only went to Stratford (and frankly that was pretty good enough, too – great area!). This was the first time I had been and the first time I’d used a proper wheelchair there… But the biggest shock wasn’t being back in London (that was just normal, like visiting the hometown you grew up in and love). No… The biggest shock was coming back.

When I was there, staying in Angel [Islington], it was far from perfect. But things were easier. I wasn’t as ill. Wasn’t in as much pain. I was stressed to hell and kingdoms come, but I wasn’t as ill.  I was able to get up 1-2 hours earlier than [here] in north Wales, and with far more ease. But since I’ve returned to north Wales, the difference (whatever the difference is) has hit me with a sledghammer and then some. It’s, quite frankly, utterly shocking and horrible.

It’s bad enough this Aspie Girl had to leave her home (London) in the first place. Now, after going back like nothing had happened (except with more pain and a new wheelchair), the difference in… whatever… is striking. And maybe because I’m not used to it now, I can’t cope with it. With whatever it is here [Wales] that does make my condition that little bit worse. I don’t know if it’s a psychological thing affecting the Firbo, or a Fibro thing affecting the Psychologial. But whatever it is, it’s there and it’s real. And shocking. So to be so brutally tasked with trying to “Cope” with it, is boslutely horrible and really hard.

No, I did not expect this at all. If anything I thought I’d get a few days of respite, but not to this extent. Wishing now I’d stayed a damned week instead…

It was lucky I went with my new chair – GTM Mustang, from Cyclone. [Mine’s black and silver and so comofortable]. It made all the difference there. I managed to go around everywhere I wanted with absolute minimum assistance, which was amazing. Thus I question, how is it now, from the time I’ve come back, am I passing out with pain again? Did being back home make me stronger? Is there a radical difference being up north? Is the weather? Is it about living so high up [compared to London]? What is it about being here that makes it go from 9¾ was a maximum pain there, to being a minimum one here?

Even when I was very stressed there (just try taking the train from Euston station when you’re in a wheelchair!), it still didn’t get too bad… well, until I’d been on that damn train about two hours, and it was already 7pm! And yet, all I’ve done since is, well, nothing, because I can barely move.

Is it psychologically-induced? There’s no denying the immense depression and fear I have living here, and not back in London. I’ve never liked it here, and I am horribly resentful and fearful of life here. I feel restricted because I’m forced to be more reliant on others here – you have to drive or be driven here, there’s no public transport available (certainly not adaquate enough for indipendent wheelchair use, like London has). There’s a lot of depression and fear involved to being here. I am just a completely different person there – I’m home, safe, and I know and like how the world works there. Here… Nothing of the kind, and I’m terrified and agoraphobic when here. That can’t help.

It’s always cold and raining, so wet, damp, painful… meaning that it has an immense knock-on effect on my physical well-being, and thusly has a knock-on effect on my psychology. Clearly, the answer is that it’s everything together doing this. It’s a messy, tangled ball of knotted string…

The fact there’s no help or support in any real way, means I’m left floundering. I’ve had to ask to be re-referred to neurology because this is getting worse. Physiotherapy has dumped me (there’s no NHS money for long-term help, and she was a wet blanket and a half anyway…). I’ve been waiting about a year for psychological help, and I’m still waiting, desperately trying to tread water in the meantime. The pain clinic waiting list is a joke – they took 4 months to get back to me, only to tell me that from then (July) they notified me it was going to be yet another 9 months of waiting list to go. And nothing else has been offered, or is available, because I live where I live.

I had a nightmare of coming off the road on a corner of a steep mountain road and falling down hundreds of feet into a deep canyon. I turned around in my car seat, squeezed my eyes shut, and said goodbye as we fell and fell and fell. Just in the moment before hitting the bottom, I came round. Before then though, I didn’t realise I was dreaming… I really thought I was going to die. From disbelief in the first instance, I turned and accepted my fate. It was so horribly surreal to face death like that… and perhaps miraculous to find out it was just a dream.

It’s how I feel in life – it was a very Jungyan dream. I feel like I’ve gone off the edge of a cliff, and I’m just falling and falling… but there doesn’t seem to be any way to be woken up from this nightmare that I’m living in. And I just keep feeling like I’m falling the whole time, because there doesn’t seem to be any kind of end or stability in sight at all. I’m closing in on the 4th anniversary of the start of this [next month]… and I’m just not even close to getting this sorted out. I don’t even have psychological support. I’m just on a useless waiting list, and it’s not like those call centres where the phone queue tells you where your place is… They just make you wait in Limbo until you finally get that letter to say it’s “your turn”.

I don’t like being back. I wish I didn’t have to live somewhere that’s not interested in being good to me, and in fact, only makes things worse. There’s no long-term support of any kind, and I have no emotional support from the professionals. I’m a lost Aspie, falling and floundering… And I still can’t understand why they can’t help me to level out and fly…

 


Being Literally Under The Weather…

More long days of Fibro Flareups again. They really are tiring, and they really get to you. They get me down, but even more so do they really get to me. They hurt and they’re difficult to get through, you can’t do anything, and of course that all mixes in with the stresses of the permenany Hemiplegic Migraine.

In and out of something that borders between unconsciousness and sleep, I’ve been able to accomplish nothing I hoped to today. They’re only basic wishes –  brush hair, shower, play game or read, perhaps go out or watch a TV show (Versailles is the current favourite). However, I instead literally get to do nothing because I’m passing in and out of consciousness, and it’s really not nice at all.

This is, quite frankly, dehumanising, disheartening, frustrating, and upsetting. When you just want to do one or two basic things and you can’t you start feeling really, really, pathetic. And inadequate as a basic human being. My hair is a mess, a shower would help on numerous level – not just the obvious one – and playing my games actually puts my brain to work when nothing else can. It’s pretty terrible when you can’t just do at least one of them.

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The reason for this flareup is the weather. I have discovered personally that if the isobar pressure drops into a low of under 1020mb (which is quite high), then I suffer. 1010mb and under and I may as well be dead. I certainly wish I was, to be honest.

On this day, it sat at 1011mb, but was also thrown at me alongside heavy rain, cold temperatures, high humidity, and high precipitation. All together it teams up into the proverbial perfect storm. And I am trapped right in the middle of it.

It’s been hit with everything I have – Pregabalin, Pukka Ayurvedic teas, Key essential oils, even Courvoisier. All given throughout the day – the parts I’ve been awake, anyway. It’s kept a lid on the worse of the “pain” (which in my case now means extreme paraesthesia, and not “normal” pain, which I had before) – however, not enough to stop me from crashing out the entire day. Until now, of course, at 1:00am. No… Now I get to be wide awake. Yey…

The bad days do not make the bad days better. The good days only serve to make the bad days more frustrating and upsetting. When you see others getting on with the basics, you feel like something between a complete failiure as a person, and so utterly usless you may as well not exist. When it’s hit-or-miss as to whether you can do them too, then it’s just hugely magnified. I find that very difficult to deal with, and feeling non-funcional is one of the worst thing that I can go through and experience.

I’m hoping it’s going to get better – supposedly tomorrow should go up to 1020mb with no rain, so that might offer a little respite. Next week is supposed to be quite warm with high pressure too (although with a Bank Holiday looming, I doubt it will do nothing but give way to the patently required Bank Holiday showers and soggy weather…).

But… it’s days like today that really makes it hit home just how bad things really are, and this is a seriously debilitating condition that I have no control over. This is the psychology I can’t get my head around – accepting that this is the case, that I have no control over it. Yes, there are some things that can be done, and I am doing them… what I know about, anyway. It’s not like I’m getting any guidance here…

I hope one day I’ll be able to… coexist… in peace with it, and I hope that day comes soon, because the upset I get from days like today took their toll a long time ago, so every one since has been adding to a high burden I already carry around – what I call my “ball of wrong” in my tummy. It sounds silly and vague, I know, but it’s the only way I can identify things or emotions in me that this is causing, and there’s a lot of them. It’s like a giant “Miscellanious” cupboard stuffed to the brim with unidentified thoughts, feelings, pain, confusion, and scared, whigh has been accumulating since this has started, and it lives in my tummy. That’s just ASD for you, it seems.

Being as Aspie Girl with all these things going on everywhere certainly isn’t easy…


Alone Without Precedent

The more I am in this situation, the more it eludes and confounds me. It doesn’t help that it thus far has no definitive name. What really doesn’t help is the psychological aspect.

I checked around the Internet… There seems to be really little on ASD/ Autism/ Asperger Syndrome with neurological or physical chronic illnesses. There seems to be no precedent, nothing out there from other people  who are or have been in a similar situation. There’s one or the other – but not both together.

I feel I am wondering out in the wilderness with no way of knowing which way to go, or where I am even going. There is so little help… Nothing but Waiting Lists, and then some. Lots and lots of them – Neurology, Occupational Therapy, Psychological Services… and then there’s more to come for diagnostics, physiotherapy, treatment, more appointments… A never-ending carousel of waiting. With no one to help in the meantime. Without a clue as to what might be wrong with you or why you’re suddenly like… this.

All I know is that it’s no longer Fibromyalgia. Last time I checked that required pain. Mine is all gone, replaced by horrible other things instead. No longer hyper-sensitive to cold, no longer in that pain I was in, no longer able to feel… well, almost anything. I’ve never hit my “funny bone” before and barely noticed. The dog can walk or bounce on me, chew [gently] on my arm and play with it. I don’t notice bumping into things, or people accidentally knocking into me, or things falling on me, or even touching my own arm or leg. I’ve been told there’s a terrible rash on my back and neck as a response to using oils – and I would be none the wiser if they hadn’t told me. I can’t feel it and it doesn’t even bother me. But when I touch it, it feels pretty rotten, I must admit…

img_0886Today my fingers went really numb… like someone had tied super-tight string at the bottom of each one; that feeling of the blood flow being cut off – and yet there was nothing on my hands at all. Not even gloves. I have also had a very hard time with extreme Fatigue (and I do presume I have a cold, to be honest), argued with gathering a Shard on Dragon Age: Inquisition, and my back and legs (especially my legs) have been quite “buzzing” and/or tingling (varying through the day). This morning I couldn’t even move or feel my own self to even try.

Right now I have to manage on the – rather genius and amazing – essential oil recipes for neuropathy and then for fatigue/brain focus, Devil’s Claw, Magnesium Oil (amazing), Neurozan vitamins, and coffee. Occasionally there’s minimal Co-Codramol (8mg/500mg) – almost always when I have a cold or infection – and Boots Botanics Ylang Ylang & Manderin “Aromatic Rollerball”. That’s on top of maxed-out Pregabalin pills. But without a definitive diagnosis, we’re all just pissing in the wind, guessing and hoping for the best.

I feel alone. Lonely. Because it really does seem I’m all by myself with this. Yes, peopleimg_9891 have neuropathic chronic illnesses, and yes, people have ASD. I am yet to find someone else out there who has experienced this and at least attempted to navigate this.

With the NHS in turmoil, and Social Care drastically underfunded, I’ve pretty much relegated myself to the Raggydoll pile. I just now wish to be the best I can be, especially psychologically. It’s a big ask, but it’s all I can focus on – and the only thing I can control now. There is just nothing left in my life I have any control over, and I have no idea. I am in the middle of it and I don’t understand any of this – so it’s hardly like you can expect anyone else to… But I do wish that at least I did. And this new numbness twist? That just hurts my head.

I am just lost, and I do not like that at all.


No Such Thing As A Good Night’s Sleep…

Another long night. Yesterday I was up until around 6am because of an asthma attack. Today, it’s all back to normal and I’m up because of the pain instead. Nothing new, in these days of warmish and wet… soggy… damp.

Dry and cold I can pretty much cope with, but when it’s like this, it’s just another kind of hell to live in. There is no settling it, nothing that can take the pain away. I try, but there comes a time when it’s going too far, and you just can’t take any more – or any more pain killing things – it’s put up and shut up time.

These days, I count going to sleep before 6am a “good night”. 3am and before is positively a miracle.

Anything to aid a good night’s sleep isn’t an option… Just like everything else, really, in times like this.

Going out is not an option. If I force the issue, it exhausts me for days, if not weeks, and I daren’t do too much… which is no more than a short visit to a supermarket or a couple of shops in town – with the help of one or more people. I don’t get to drive, or cook, wash my hair (I’ve been forced to be a huge fan of Batiste), or take a proper shower (so… bed baths… at my age…). Making it to the bathroom on two legs is considered a luxury (crawling is often a used option). I don’t get to see downstairs. I don’t talk to people because it takes up too much energy – literally breathing is, frankly, taking up all my effort on these kinds of days/weeks/months. I don’t even get to play my PC games when I want or need to. I have courses that I should be taking. I have programming projects I wanted to undertake. I had new (IT) languages to learn. New games to play. Books to read. Audibles to listen to. I don’t actually get to do much of anything, really.

This weather takes all of that away. Fibromyalgia takes all that away.

This keeps me a prisoner in my own house. My own room. My own body. What is worse, is that everything that makes me feel better, that cheers me up, is no longer an option… so trying not to give into all the miserable is extremely difficult. Fighting depression is hard enough when your own illness is co-conspiring against you with it… it doesn’t help when all your favourite things are taken away as well.

So… I feel depressed. Despondent, is probably a better word. Rather hopeless and helpless… and pathetic. I alost doubt feeling this exhausted on top of the usually overwhelming fatigue helps. I try not to, but it’s so damned difficult to even try, let alone succeed. It’s hard not to think about what life was life before, or feel entirely disheartened by how everything turned out, how you were descended into your own private hell no one else can ever undertand unless they have the immense misfortune of knowing what having a chronic illness is like. Something you would never wish on even the most evilest of evil in your entire imagination, it’s so horrible.

So instead of good times, I get to writhe in agony, trying not to cry (and not because I have dignity… oh, no, that vanished a while back… but because it hurts to damned much to), whilst all the time gritting my teeth (probably quite literally, too) and just trying to survive every moment it just hurts so damned much

Thus is the life of a #spoonie

Yey.