Death of a dream?

If I were still shoulding myself, I would say that because I just got married, I should be deliriously happy, right? That my blog should be bursting with pictures and stories and fun little things, because life rocks right now, right?

Okay, truth be told, I am very happy, and life does rock right now!

I kinda want to wait until the pictures come back before I start processing the wedding and telling stories. It's all too new and personal right now for me to reel it out, strand by strand, and lay it down here. I know this is my personal blog, but still... some things are too precious, even for this place. (Also, I'm a space cadet right now. Hehe.)

But right now, I find myself in a strange place. I'm a newlywed, a blushing bride-no-longer... and while it feels a little different, it's really not that different from before, except that I feel out of place on the wedding websites that I have come to frequent. I feel like that mom that tries to be cool with her teenage daughter's friends, but in reality is just awkwardly lurking. I'll probably get over that as I find new little niches on the web to hang out.

What I'm really here for today, though, is to spill my fears. Because really, I'm afraid... so very afraid. And sad. And not really sure what else...

...because I'm really sick. Again. As usual. The week before the wedding was the joy of another prolonged flare (sometimes it's just one day, sometimes it's a couple days, and sometimes it's a week... or more). I'm so glad that H was there to coordinate the wedding stuff for me, because by the time it rolled around, I just didn't care anymore. I didn't have it in me to care. My brain was not functioning well, and I kept getting asked to make all these last minute decisions (because, of course, things go wrong and then you have to roll with alternate plans), and I just really couldn't. And the day of? Don't even go there. I was as good as useless. Also, I was kinda cranky, because I hurt so much. If it hadn't been my wedding day, it would have been a "crawl into bed and never come back out" day. I just wanted to lay down and cry multiple times. But it was my wedding day, so I pushed forward... and it was great. I had a lot of fun, once the stuff actually got started. I've been paying for that day of fun, though.

The flare continued, and yesterday it was so so so bad. I got broadsided by a bad case of fibro flu... the kind of broadsided where all you can do is lay somewhere that is usually comfortable and twitch, groan, and pray for the end.

That brings me to why I'm here. Because I'm really sick. Again. As usual.

I hear other people with fibro talk about "good days" and "bad days". Yesterday was definitely a bad day. But even my "good days", well... they're bad. And that both pisses me off and frustrates me. I have had one day since early January where I have been able to function without taking a single prescription pain killer all day. One. And I can count on one hand the number of days since early January that I have been able to function with less than three prescription pain killers in a day.

Is it bad that I just really don't wanna do this anymore?

Because here I am, staring down my future, and wondering what the hell am I going to do? In four months, I'm supposed to start the intense massage therapy training program. I'm having a difficult time with the three classes I'm in now (and one of them is online!), and I expect to be able to pull that off?

I am in a treatment program that's supposed to give some pretty good results by July, but can I really pin my hopes on that? I just keep getting worse and worse, and so quickly... it scares me, y'all. I am frightened by the decline in my health.

It doesn't help when well meaning friends question me as to why I'm so sick, or how I declined so rapidly, or whatever. I don't know! If I knew, then maybe I could do something about it! As it is, it's like I've been thrown into a pool of icy water with my arms tied behind my back. I'm thrashing about, looking for purchase, but all the while I become weaker and weaker, sinking further and further...

Don't get me wrong. It's not that I don't have a lot of good in my life. C is amazing, and fully prepared to financially support us both in the event that I cannot contribute anything to the household income. In fact, he's planning it that way, and if I can help out then it's a pleasant surprise. I have a lot of good things in my life, but I am frightened, and I am tired, and I am hurting, and I just need to cry out once in a while.

I have a friend, C, who is an amazing lady. She is the one who cleaned my house for me before the wedding, and I asked if she would be willing to do so on a regular basis if I compensate her in some way. She waved aside the compensation and is going to be doing it out of the goodness of her heart. What a doll.

That, though, is a mixed blessing... for while it shows the awesome and wonderful people that are around me, supporting me and helping me cope with life in chronic pain... it also shows how far I've fallen. I can't even clean my own house anymore! And it seems so silly that something so small can send me into tears (I'm crying right now, actually), but it's just like... everything that used to be normal and familiar is gone. I don't know what to do with myself. I used to be so independent. I hate having to rely on others for so much, and I just feel so terribly useless.

The girl who hates to impose on others... is now brought to the point of needing help to clean her own apartment. It just makes me so sad... and so mad... because it's not like I asked for this. I didn't do anything. It just happened to me, and now I have to cope with this. It's like a giant cosmic prank, except there's no punchline or restitution... just the awful reality of a helpless, crippled life.

And this is what I'm staring down as I look four months into the future at this massage therapy program. If I am not capable of mopping my own floor without bringing paroxysms of pain and crippling fatigue upon myself for an undetermined period of time, how can I possibly hope to make it through this stressful, intense program? I know what stress does to me, and I know what physical overexertion does to my body...

...so maybe it's time to let that dream go?

It's hard for me to even consider that. I feel like a failure, a quitter, a flake, even contemplating it. After all this time, after all the noise I've made about becoming a massage therapist... how can I walk away from it? How many times am I going to have to quit something because of my poor health? This wouldn't be the first time. Am I just not trying hard enough? Am I not tough enough? Or will my life be a series of false starts and half finished projects? That's what it feels like when I walk away from something I've decided to do.

But maybe my path really does lie somewhere else. Maybe that dream's purpose was to bring me here, where I would meet C and work with the HJ and all the other stuff I've done. Maybe the purpose of the dream was not to be fulfilled, but to lead. Or maybe it's a "not yet" scenario. It will happen... but not yet.

So I'm starting to consider what else I can do with myself this fall besides school, besides the massage therapy program. Maybe that store I dream about. Maybe the HJ full time. Maybe something else entirely. I really don't know right now.

I would love to end this on a note of hope, because I do feel optimistic... I know that it will all work out, one way or another... but I also don't want to force cheerfulness. I am sad. I am confused. I am frightened. And that's okay. Because I'm also not giving up. I'll hang in there... one breath at a time. That's all I can do right now.

1 thoughts:

  • Optimistic Existentialist | April 3, 2013 at 5:22 AM

    I think the important thing is that you are allowing yourself to "feel" these feelings - the apprehension, the fear, etc. By allowing yourself to feel them rather than pushing them away (which is just a temporary band-aid), you are able to work through them.

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