Tag Archives: exhaustion

Anxiety & Chaos — The Antithesis of the Aspie Mind…

Anxiety and Chaos rules my mind. It feels like it’s been long buried under mountains of agonising pain, sorrow, grief. Fibro-Fog, medication, and more and more Chaos and Anxiety. I can feel my mind still there, calling, struggling to be freed, to be heard… yet, there seems to be so little I can do about digging it back out.

As long and all this overwhelming Anxiety and Chaos rules me, rules my life, is forced upon me – truly, it seems that no matter what I do to prepare against it, it floods and breaks through my defences and laying siege until I can do nothing more against it. – it will Rule me. It overwhelms me. Then, it eventually takes over me. My life. And now, it just simply continues to do so… because I have only so many spoons at all, and that number is barely above Zero, and none of those spoons are even remotely strong enough to fight against the sheer mountain of things that continue to suffocate me every minute of Every. Single. Day.

With no Short Term Memory to speak of, and pretty much no Long Term Memory to fall back on (although, thankfully, the odd one can be brought out with certain triggers, unfortunately few and far between), it’s like I am nothing and no one.

As an Aspie, who once remembered everything and anything just about, this fact is near killing me inside. I still don’t know what to do with it – the grief and frustration of going through this, being forced to live without something embedded into me, that was an intricate part of me… Quite often, it is all too overwhelming. Even the inability to control my environment was entirely reliant on this… and without it, Anxiety and Chaos reign entirely. It is painful and frightening, and there seems to be nothing I can do about it – and I feel this because I have gone through everything I can think of over these past Five Years this has been happening to me…

I physically cannot move – my condition leaves me with only the shoulders and arms and what is above it; pretty much nothing else is movable by my own conscious will. I must remain on the floor whilst upstairs because my chair (or any chair) cannot fit up here; the house is too old and the landing is far too narrow to accommodate one. This means that I remain next to useless up here – unable to move or control my own environment in my bedroom. Despite assistance, there is no way to keep it sane without someone perfectly able-bodied to take things out and put them away as required. Whilst I may be able to retrieve something, putting it back may cost too much spoons, or be too difficult – or worse, I might forget.

I have been numbed by the sheer and exhaustive amount of confusing and destructive emotions that keep washing over and drowning me. I do not like emotions – actually, I loathe them, and wish they did not exist. And, quite frankly, there are definitely far to many of them. It’s a cornucopia of horror that I flail at, until I fall victim to my terror and end up falling and drowning beneath them all. “NT” people have called this dead numbness “depression” – but I’ve studied psychology for years, and what I have has never quite been fully described by that theory, and it does not fully cover what it is that I experience.

I am TMI (Too Much [Sensory] Information) when it comes to all these emotions – and all are fuelled by my two arch enemies: Anxiety and Chaos. I literally cannot live like this – I barely even exist like this. To live, to participate in… well, something, anything… to do what I love again… That would be Everything.

So, by that measure, it seems that right now I would have nothing…?

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Keep Going…

Has anyone ever been through this before?! It’s not on the Internet if it is… or very well hidden! My catheter issues are exhausting me and causing even more pain than I already have… but without it, I can cope even less.

That point was proven yesterday, and part of the day before. And today, I’m really suffering for it.

Twice in 24 hours! I can’t believe it came out within just 8 hours… and I thought it coming out 24-72 hours was unnecessarily awful…! It’s caused unbearable pain, in me, who usually can’t really feel anything. I had no choice but to agree with them that the bladder and urethra required some time for R&R… even it it was just for a day, or a night.

After agreeing to leave the catheter out for as long as I could bare it, for at least 24 hours if possible, I did it. I tried and fought and it was horrible. Emotionally, physically, psychologically, it completely messed me up – which was something I did not require during a massive Fibro Flare-Up. Now I’m broken into even more pieces and too exhausted to barely move  – and don’t get me started on the fibro pain and even less moving parts than normal.

I lasted until 5pm yesterday, which is over 24 hours. It was a struggle, and… disgustingHumiliatingExhausting. Shaming. When you’re struggling to manage to change your own paper Grown Up Huggies Pull-Ups every 2-3 hours (if you’re lucky), struggling to move from a Fibro-Flare-Up, when there is no one to help you, when you’re stitting in your own ick because you just can’t move and are unable to – too exhausted to – change, and you don’t sleep. At all. Except for a short catnap between about 8:30 ad 9:30am… if that counts at all…

Eventually, I caved. I had to have it put back in. But it wasn’t happy from the start. As usual. By 1:00pm, it was already seriously trying to wiggle its way out. It’s pressing against… something, I don’t really know, I presume it’s something like the pelvic floor area, maybe?… and it’s setting off this pain like electric shocks and strange body-wide pins and needles and tingles – especially when the bladder spasms and pushes out more water.

At 5:15pm it was pressing so hard it wouldn’t take much more of a hard Release flood to take it out. It was at the 24 hour mark, so it seems inevitable. I don’t win, either way. I need that Suprapubic Catheter ASAP. Except the Urology Department doesn’t seem to be taking much notice of it.

It’s in Retention-Release, despite also slightly draining as well. During the Release, it leaks (bypassing), and creates an immense amount of that pain mentioned just before. It’s so overwhelming I can hardly breathe and makes my eyes really water badly, as well as making me feel quite lightheaded and disorientated. It’s not nice at all.

It’s hanging in there but not my much. One big Release is probably all it will take now…  😦

*

Also I’ve had enough about the OT and social worker. I cannot get anywhere with them, and they won’t talk to me (despite my dad and I leaving messages with them since last week), and thus I have put in a complaint against them with Conwy Services. I’ve also had to call what they call single point of access to request a referral to a new OT. My fourth one now.

This is also along with the fact one of the district nurses thought it was perfectly OK to go and call the incontinence nurse to ask about getting me medication for bladder spasms, and then take that request to the GP all without informing me or getting my consent. I’m hopping mad about it, and she’s not even in today… Naturally. I wouldn’t have even known about it if the GP surgery hadn’t call me to tell me my prescription was ready. So, confused, I obviously ask, What prescription? And apparently it had all been done and dusted for me without my knowledge, my input, my consent. I don’t even know what it is. Or if I have sensitivity or allergies to it, or whether it will conflict with my von Willebrand’s.

Now I have to wait until tomorrow to see what this is all about, and, frankly, expect an apology from them. I’m a very tired and grumpy Lel right now… you really don’t want to get on my sulky side… It’s not pretty, and I will say what I think!


Does Nothing Ever Change…?

I’ve been to hell and back. I think maybe I’m still there… but at least my life isn’t on the line anymore.
27th January I got taken into hospital, half-conscious, and apparently in a bad way. They found streptococus and staphylococcus in my blood, along with a “horrendous” UTI and a bowel infection. I’m not quite sure how much longer I would have been saveable for.
Luckily, I’ll never have to find out. They saved me. It took 6 weeks of being under their care, during which I also contracted more UTIs and a mystery infection that sent my temperature to 40.9˚C. I hate to think how much Tazoan [sic?]they actually pumped into me, but I’m almost convinced my blood is now mainly made up of that and coffee now…
Sheldon–What Fresh Hell
It is completely disingenuous now to wondering it if was the right call… And, after all, I’m not in as much extreme pain as I was – is was about 1000/10 by then. Now it’s down to 9.9 or 10/10 … so there is a big difference.
However… To what end does it really matter, when you’re half-dead anyway? A brainless zombie who is still in the utmost of pain, lost in the system, broken beyond repair, not even the ghost or shadow of a shell of what I once was?
I have a catheter because I can no longer control my bladder – or feel it. And it doesn’t even want to stay in. I cannot walk or dress or wash myself. I can no longer drive, or shop, or go out, do chores, tidy up. I have no control over my environment because I can barely move.
I have difficulty eating, moving, functioning. I have zero quality of life.
No one would ever keep a dog or a cat in this state. The humane thing would be to let it go. And yet, because I am human, there is no humanity given. Instead, I must just somehow “put up with” being tortured every second of every minute of every hour of every day… for years. Five, to be exact. Well, it will be in a few short months.
Nothing ever changes. Fine – yes, I have painkillers now that make it a little better. But now the new storms have hit (Thank you, Storm Hector…), again. I’ve been rendered completely buggered once again. There is no mercy here. Just tragedy and trauma everywhere you look around. Unable to ever comprehend, never being able to correlate, just whathas happened here to me. How far I’ve fallen. How much has been lost… destroyed… 
Being eaten away, drained of everything I am, by a condition no one seems to know anything about. By one that took away everything I worked my entire life to achieve. That took away everything that I was. Who I was. What I was.
 High Pain DayI fought my way to the Summit of the mountain I climbed, and in one fell swoop I was thrown off, plummeting to the bottom of the deepest mine beneath, crushed, broken… and no one heeded my screams nor saved me on my way down. Now, I am a nothing… and I was so close to being a something… something I really wanted to be.
I was about to achieve what I had wanted my entire life – I was about to join a career-making opportunity, based on skill alone… despite not having a single official qualification for IT, and based entirely on my own brain and ability. Just a brush away from a proper salary, a permeant contract, a proper job. With one of the most incredible NHS hospitals in the country.
All gone because of something no one wanted to stop.
That plummet, bouncing, crashing, falling, spinning, all the way down past the ground level I began at, straight past it and crashing – broken into too many fragments to ever count – onto the bottom of its deepest mine… Looking all the way up… Wondering how in all Gods’ name did I get down there, and how in all Hell on Earth I was even going to attempt to get up, let alone get all the way back up there…
Holding On
Now it’s nearly Five Years hence. It’s been a living nightmare. A waking Hell. Walking the darkest horrors and enduring torturous months and years that Satan himself would balk at.
And I am genuinely wondering why I am here… How I came to be here… How was I ever supposed to be OK with the trauma of being left and ignored for all those years, until I was broken beyond repair. Listened to only because I came close to very nearly not being here from blood poisoning… and only then given a little help. Where were they when I needed it, before I got here? 
Before I was left crushed to dust with nowhere to go, unable to move or walk or even go to the bathroom… Before I needed a wheelchair and my parents to even begin to do anything?
I can’t have a shower unless it’s at a Premier Inn – who have amazingly easy to use img_0904shower wet rooms, and cute, comfortable bathtubs too. I went over 2 months without a proper shower – barely struggled, badly and horribly had one just after leaving the hospital. I only had one when I went to the Blackburn Premier Inn a couple of weeks ago. And I had my properfirst shower since I left hospital on 8th March. And I actually felt happy and relaxed after a shower for the very first time in a very long time.
Funnily enough, I can’t say anything like that about home. It’s not suitable for use. Yes, I’ve told them. I’m not holding my breath that they’re going to actually do anything about it…
That’s the world I live in… From being fully in control of my life, of my existence, of my choices, of everything… I am now at the Mercy of everyone. If I want to wash, if I want to change my Tena incontenence pants, if my catheter comes out, if I want to eat, if I want coffee, if I want to get dressed, if I need medication, if I need something from downstairs – or even from the other side of the room, if I want to use my own goddamned shower… You get the picture. For pretty much anything.
And the most insulting thing? I get paid to be ill. That’s what Disability welfare – stupid PIP and ESA – is … and it is pittance. It’s not even enough to be classed as pocket money. That’s your job now. To be unequivocally unable to do anything. And getting a tiny amount of finances to supposedly help you whilst you walk through the shadows of the Valley of Death alone, frightened, and without hope you’ll ever, ever leave again.
And the Government has the freaking impudence to think that not only can they put a price on that, that the price they choose is nothing compared to what you really need…
Somehow they think it’s enough… And if they think that, they’re either insane or delusional. Certainly certifiably stupid and ignorant.
Back to whence I came… Back to being trapped as a prisoner in my own body. Back to being imprisoned in my room. Back to not being able to wash properly. Back to struggling with agonising and debilitating pain that refuses to allow you to actually even move. Or even breathe.
Storm’s Calling… And Hell Is On Fire Once Again…
  

 


Fibro Flare-Up

It never ends

More cold. More pain. It’s been literally freezing and being home instead of in the Premier Inn has caused a lot or problems… unfortunately.
If there is a Hell on Earth, Fibro has got to be an entire district.
Inside me, it’s horrendous pain. Crushing, buzzing, snapping electric shocks, stiffness that’s impossible to overcome, feelings of pain I can’t even describe because I have no outside reference. All I know is that right now I’m at a 9.8. At least. I’m struggling to breathe, because as always, the crushing stiffness is also against my ribs, meaning my lungs can barely move. Mucus then builds up and makes things worse, emulating (but not being) and asthma attack.
To make matters worse, I’m unable to change (as in my “Grown-Up Huggies”), and (yes, oh yes, it’s gross) therefore I have to put up with it, without the privilege of being able to cry about it like babies do… I’ll only be able to make that better once the pills and Courvoisier have taken proper effect and I can move a little better again, without enough pain to pass out in the bathroom [again…].
Life also sucks when it takes [quite literally] hours to recover just trying to crawl to the bathroom and back. It’s also not nice when your Pampers are full, and I now understand  why babies cry. Because I certainly want to .
As bad as it was the last time, I really wish I was back in the Black Cat Premier Inn – all is forgiven right now. Did I say I (my parents) bought one of their Hypnos mattresses? Tried and tested in every room I’ve been in, they make everything so much better in just two or three nights. The only problem is they’re apparently handmade and it takes 30 days to make and deliver. That’s a long time of a lot of pain…. Therefore, roll on 27th December so I can finally get some sleep…
I put my courage to the sticking place yesterday and finally finally finished Dragon Age II on PC… Something  I’ve been trying to do for many years now [Character: Seranna Hawke] and Ii managed to do it. And it took a lot of stubbornness and self-medicating, but I did it!
On the other hand,  I still was unable to sleep and I think again went to sleep about 6am again. I  feel absolutely horrible today, another flu-like flare-up common to Fibro, and CFS, and I’m wrapped up in my specialist outdoors -6ºC sleeping bag, trying to ease some of the pain. It’s not doing to badly, either, bringing the pain down to a more reasonable 8 – especially in back and legs and shoulders.
On the downside, there’s a good chance of a full blackout, and I nearly had one, which is disconcerting. I’m horribly uncomfortable (thank you, Incontinence – really hoping will end up with catheter because I cannot function like this – I’m severely dehydrated – My lips are dry and cracked and painful, have to sit in wet Huggies, and am exhausted for hours just from having to go to the bathroom, and often pass out trying), exhausted beyond life itself, and in a heck of a lot of pain – even the touch of my hair feels like stinging nettles everywhere it touches.
Late this evening, around 9:30pm, I tried to go to the bathroom and ended up being such in there for over 2 hours, because I simply could not move. I couldn’t feel anything below my breast-bone – other than some serious paraesthesia in my spine and back of my hips, and so meaning Ii couldn’t move anything either. It took a lot to bring the pain down to a manageable level, then I dragged myself (commando-esque) all the way back to my room. That wouldn’t have been hard before this, but after having a lot of muscle weakness since, it was not to easy to manage. And I now had to do it all oved again not half an hour after I got back, because I had to go again.
Now it’s 4:25am and I still can’t sleep from the level of pain I’m still in. But at least I’m finally back in my room, in my tent.
It’s pretty tough to be ok with all of that.
Sheldon–What Fresh Hell
SLXLM
MXLLS

Combating The Cold…

After spending perhaps about two and a half months downstairs, I really want to go back up… but it doesn’t look like it’s going to be an option just yet.
It’s a Catch-22 situation – it’s so cold down here I need to go upstairs, back to my tent and my computer, but I can’t get upstairs because the cold is searing my entire everything and turning into solid spasms of rock-hard stiffness and making me ill… and then because it’s so cold I need to go upstairs, but I can’t…. and so on, and on, and on… So, obviously I’m stuck and getting nowhere fast.
However, there may finally be a solution to this… Today, I had a brainwave and thought that if I’m that cold, then I should get something made to keep me warm – a really puffy
and special sleeping bag created for literally freezing weather.
Ayacucha Sirius 300 Sleeping BagThe Ayacucho Sirius 300 is a really warm and cozy bag, capable of keeping you warm and toasty in temperatures down to -6ºC. So that should be warm and puffy enough for down in the living room! It also means I don’t have to have the fire on, or hurt myself trying to keep it going. This bag is immediately keeping inside my bones and joins warm and happy. It’s not just superficial warmth, and goes really deep like the fire does, and just sitting on it, on the open inside, is making a huge difference. On a basic camping mat, just keeping it up off the floor, it’s really great. And amazingly really warms my bones so they don’t hurt so much anymore.
It’s pretty great –  and it might make absolutely all the difference in the world tomorrow morning when I wake up. This morning I couldn’t even move on my own and I was in agony. I’ve been in hell all day, in a hell of a lot of pain, and even in a spasm – but when the bag was put around me during the spasm it really helped stop it from escalating, which it was doing quite badly until then.
I’m not comfortable right now, to be honest… I’m having a flareup with a hot flush (although I tested my core temp with a thermometer and it shows as being just 35.8ºC, which looks so strange, given how very feverish I feel!), I am having really strong palpitations (probably quite tachycardic), I’m quite discomforted in my own self, in quite a bit of pain, agitated, pretty bad sweating (I really hate that bit the most), and my face and teeth really hurt… basically, I’m not well, and probably because I overdid it today.
I went out for the sleeping bag and stuff, and then tonight I finally went for a shower (it’s impossibly hard to have showers with this much exhaustion and fatigue), with the idea (if the sleeping bag idea works) of dying my hair tomorrow. I’ve got 4-5 inches of badgering (that’s what I call the regrowth because with the white/grey and dark brown hair I have naturally now looks like a badger), and the hope is that the sleeping bag warmth will allow me to get up and do so. I’ve been waiting to do this for so long, it would be nice to finally get this done.
It’s been a hell of a couple of months… I do hope this is the start of something at least a teeny bit better.
Ayacucha Sirius 300 Sleeping Bag
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