Right now I'm in "anger" and possibly "denial". I'm so pissed off at what I've lost, what I have to deal with, what I must endure… I'm just sick of it. Honestly, I'm SO over this.
I continue to deteriorate, despite my best efforts. I can't remember what it's like to have a normal, healthy day. The last time I had a day that I could consider "good" (read: less pain than usual, no limping and stiffness, no flu like symptoms to speak of) was… the 2nd week of April. The weekend that my friends came and cleaned my house for me.
I keep racking up new symptoms, tallying up the worsening of existing symptoms, and I continue to battle the medical system for appointments and diagnoses and whatnot. I am very pleased with the pain doc I finally found, and I think it's going to be a beautiful, long-term relationship.
But seriously… I just have this deep seated anger that I can't shake. What I'm going through isn't fair, it isn't right, and I'm just too young and generally amazing to be incapacitated so! There is so much that I could be doing to better the world around me, but what am I doing? Lying in bed, posting inane things on Facebook, and sleeping (or not). I feel like my life is being wasted, frankly… and that pisses me off.
I had such promise, such dreams, so many talents, and they are being wasted. I don't feel like I'm contributing anything of worth to the world, or even the relationships that I hold dearest and closest. What do you do when you feel like your life has lost purpose and meaning? When you feel like you have lost purpose and meaning?
It's like… I still have these shreds of rebellion and hope that refuse to die out, but I'm not sure how to feed them right now. I'm just so… lost. I realized the other day (or was it today?) that even when we get my pain under control and some/most of my symptoms managed and handled… I will never go back to "normal". I guess I've been holding on to this fantasy that when I can finally get my pain managed that everything will stabilize and that I'll go back to being the same bouncy, energetic, productive person that I used to be. It's finally hitting me that my life is forever altered. I have no idea what my future looks like-- will it be full of the same untold suffering, day in and day out? Will I ever have a recovery to speak of? Am I going to spend the rest of my life just surviving?
Hell, I don't even know how to adequately articulate all of this. I can't explain what I'm feeling, because I really don't understand it myself. I just know that I'm angry, very very angry, and very sorrowful. I worked so hard to come to like instead of loathe myself, and now here I am again… I feel like all of my hard work has been undone, because I really don't like the person that I am right now. I mean, I like who I am inside well enough, I guess… I'm okay… but I hate the life I have now. I didn't choose this, I didn't ask for it, and I don't want it. Why me? Like, seriously, what the fuck?!
I'm also super pissed off at what this has done to my marriage. We're making it work, and we definitely love each other and all that jazz, but honestly it's hard. Marriage and relationships are hard to begin with, especially when you've got the baggage that I do, but with all of this chronic illness shit on top of it? It's like the odds are stacked against me so high and rising that I can't help but feel I unwittingly made an enemy somewhere who's in charge of all the cosmic, circumstantial shit. I hate how stressed Drogo is, I hate that the stress has killed our sex life, I hate all of the bills piling up and how inadequate it makes him feel when it's no fault of his own at all (and when he's actually borne up under this remarkably well!), and I hate being "that couple" that always has to ask for help from everyone around them. I hate that we don't have many friends, that we can't go out and do fun stuff, and that it's just such a struggle for so long. We have this morbid inside joke that we're ready for our sunshine and rainbows now! Any day, really. lol. But it's the truth. This is just so hard, on so many levels, and I'm sick of it. It's hard enough to have all of the sensations you experience be unpleasant ones day in and day out, but on top of that there's all of the emotional agony and stress to just exacerbate things.
I also hate that I'm fat now. Yeah, yeah, I'm still attractive, blah blah blah, but I'm over 200 lbs now. I have never been this heavy in my life, and it pisses me off to NO END that I try to eat well and I exercise as I can and I got off of the stupid meds that were helping me to gain weight, but I just keep gaining and gaining and I don't see much I can do different at this point. I mean, it's not like I'm eating any junk food at all. We spend $50 on groceries each week for both of us, combined, and Drogo is practically starving (I feel) to make sure that I get enough to eat. He is starting to realize that he needs to eat more, thank goodness, but it's not so bad because he's always been a rather spare eater in general. But I hate that he has to make that decision, and that we have to clip coupons and be so spare and careful in our choices because we have so many fucking bills to pay. I'm tired of actually coming up against the decisions of whether to buy food, gas, or medicine.
I know I'll work through this and eventually (lord I hope so) reach "acceptance", but right now… I'm just wallowing in the anger. Maybe it'll give me the fuel I need to keep going. It's either anger or soul killing despair, so I'll choose the more lively of the two.
I feel like what I'm feeling (and thinking, when I'm coherent enough) at this point in time can be summarized by the two following Skillet songs, "Never Surrender" and "Sick of It." Never Surrender, especially, is almost verbatim what my heart is sobbing to itself. (Emphasis mine, for especially applicable text.)