Saturday's Thought Of The Week

I am finding it very hard to keep my head above water today. I'm feeling very overwhelmed with physical pain, and emotional pain, and it feels like whenever I'm going through some of the most difficult times in my life, there are people who insist on adding more struggle to the mix. I'm tired of getting over things. I'm tired of having things done to me that I have to get over. What if I don't want to "get over it"? What if I have reached my limit of getting over it and my tank is empty? Does anyone care about that?

People have become so much more selfish and self absorbed it's almost unbearable. There is no more sentiment to anything. Nobody creates bonds anymore, or if they do, or try, they seem to always get broken. Nothing is held sacred. I don't know what to blame, be it technology or what, but the world is becoming an unfeeling, robot-like society. It's as if it's easy to break ties because the world has become a much smaller place with the internet making us able to find someone else to fill that void within minutes. What people don't seem to understand is there will never be any real ties or real connections if this continues. How can anyone form a real and lasting bond with another human being if one, or both of them is constantly searching the vast internet for something more.

I've experienced enough pain in my 40 years that I am simply done trying. My heart has always been so big and full that I have always wanted to share it, even with the most difficult of people. My father being one of them. He's a granite statue of a man; very cold and unyielding. Not easily moved by anything or anyone, not even his own blood. For most of my life I tried over and over to show him love. I wanted him to realize that life isn't always about suffering and pain, that there are people in the world who will love you and care for you, but all that did was push him farther and farther away from me. Finally, after being hurt by him over and over and over, I just gave up. In order to preserve whatever was left in me that was good and pure, I had to let his negativity go. The problem is, I choose men who are very similar to him, and follow the same pattern of giving myself fully to try to "heal" them with my love. I pick men who have been hurt, and I want to love them so much that they no longer hurt. All that gets me... is hurt. When will the cycle ever end?

I can't stop being "me", but I can stop giving myself away. I think.

So many people have become so afraid to love. I don't think love is a bad thing, I think the inability to love is a bad thing. It will catch up with you in the end. I believe that at the end of your life, when you are approaching that time when you will no longer exist, the one regret people will have will be not allowing themselves to love more. Yes, a broken heart hurts, but it heals. What about all that wonderful stuff in the middle you're missing out on? What about all that potential happiness and joy that was wasted because of fear? Not me. I will never stop wanting to feel love and give love.

Unable Once Again

A lot of you may not know this, but when you have a hysterectomy there are a few different versions to choose from.  Mine was a total hysterectomy, which means they took my uterus and cervix, but left my ovaries.  At only 37 years old when I had it, had they taken my ovaries, that would have plunged me into menopause, which to say the least would have sucked.  However, the odd thing that comes with leaving the ovaries is I still experience all of the hormonal changes a woman goes through monthly since the ovaries are, in fact, what produce a woman's hormones.

So, although I am sans a uterus, I still get PMS.  I get the cravings, the mood swings, the bloating and the sore breasts, just no period.  I'm grateful for the last part, obviously, and also grateful to not have gone through menopause at only 37, but I do get tired of still dealing with all of the annoying side effects of being a woman without the ability to at least have more children if I choose.  Not that I would have any at my age and in my current condition, but it's nice to have the option.

I decided to write this today because I am having one of those days.  A day in which I feel fat and bloated but all I want to do is eat.  Sick of being cooped up inside, but don't want to leave the house. Enjoying the sun shining, but also kind of wishing the inclement weather that is on its way would get here sooner so I can hole up and be a bum all day without feeling guilty.  I need to clean my apartment, so much so that it's driving me crazy each time I look at it, but I have no motivation to do so.  And, add to all of that, I didn't get any sleep last night as my legs decided they weren't going to let me.  The pain, the spasms, the tightness -- it all makes a recipe for zero sleep.  Imagine if both of your inner thighs were in a charlie horse spasm, but also were contracting in real, and very painful spasms over and over again every few seconds non stop all night long no matter what you did, unless you sat up. That's what I am dealing with.  So exhausted I can't keep my eyes open, but forced to sit up on the side of the bed until they feel a little better for at least thirty minutes or so, and then I can lay down and pray for sleep for about an hour before the entire process starts all over again.  The contracting spasms themselves wouldn't be a huge deal.  I've been dealing with those for 18 years, and they always came on worse when I laid down to rest.  It's the new symptoms I can't handle.  The tightness and lack of motion.  My legs won't go straight, and also won't really bend, they are just kind of stuck in one position.  I'm quite literally crippled up from the waist down with everything just kind of contracting and contorting whichever way it wants to go, none of which is comfortable.  The pain is a burning kind of pain like everything is on fire.  That's a hard pain to treat with even the strongest of pain killers.

I miss being able to stand and walk short distances.  That was what gave me that added freedom I hadn't had for many, many years.  Rather than being stuck in the chair - like I am once again - I had the ability to climb a few steps or walk enough to go where the chair couldn't go.  That is once again all gone and I miss that little bit of freedom.  My daughter and grandson are moving in to a new apartment today, and I can't go see it or be with them because there are concrete steps out front.  I would love nothing more than to be there with them, helping her unpack and get organized.  I wish I could enjoy her happiness and her new found freedom, too.  She has sent me pictures and is telling me all about it via text, but I'd give anything to be there with her watching the joy on her face as she begins this new chapter of her life.

With limited abilities and illness also comes the loss of communication with people in my life.  It's unavoidable no matter how good friends are, or how much they may love you.  People don't want to be around someone who is in constant pain.  They may feel bad for you, and may say they will do anything for you, but in reality (and I know this from lots of experience) most people will fade away during really tough times.  I understand the process, but it doesn't make it any less difficult.  It's just another thing that gets lost during tough times like these.  I don't have the energy or the ability to do much of anything, anyway, so I guess it's for the best.

So, that brings me back to today.  During all of this pain and suffering, the one thing I can embrace is my ability to rest and do as I please and everyone just has to understand, including me.  I am physically simply unable to do much else, so I might as well embrace it.  Lots of people would love to stay in their jammies all day and do nothing but watch mindless TV and take naps, so I will appreciate the ability to do that.  With the loss of other abilities comes new ones.

Long Time Gone

Wow, I realized today that I haven't posted anything worthwhile in a very long time, yet again.  I don't know why I keep failing so miserably, but I would like to apologize again.  Life just seems to go by so quickly anymore.

I'm not sure how I'm doing, exactly.  I feel like I'm at such a stale-mate.  I am having a really hard time getting motivated lately, and I don't know if it's because of a little bit of depression, or maybe health issues, or both.  Whatever it is, I want it to stop, and I want to feel good and have energy and want to do things again.

I had an idea today for something that might work at getting me moving around more.  I've been addicted to Pinterest lately, and I have a board called "Food" that has upwards of 300 recipes on it so far.  I was thinking I would start with at least 1 recipe a week; make the dish, take a picture of it, post it here with my awesome wordiness attached, and then move it to a new board called "Finished", or something along those lines.  I think it might be a good way to get me out of the house to get the ingredients, then of course moving around the kitchen to create whatever fabulous dish is up for that week, and maybe even some more exercise if I decide to share it and bring it to friends so I don't end up 300 pounds by the end of it all.  And if I really got motivated I could do more than 1 a week, maybe even 3!  I don't know.  It's an idea.

What I do know is something needs to change for me, and I'm the only one who can make the changes.  So, I better get my ass in gear and figure out what I'm going to do.  I'm starting to get a little moldy like my apartment.

OTC and prescription medications

I have recently come across some great forums for motivation and inspriation, and in one of those forums I found a thread about Ambien and it's awful side effects. Someone mentioned an elderly man who froze to death because of sleep walking while taking this drug. This got me thinking about the time when I was on several different prescription drugs and how awful they made me feel, when their sole purpose was to make me better... it doesn't add up.

Understandably, when I was in ICU, the medical staff put me on several different medications to aid with anxiety and depression. I mean, how can someone not be depressed and all together freaking out in my situation? It's certainly not easy being paralyzed from the neck down when just a few days ago you were fine! There was something for my depression, several things for pain, something for my anxiety, something to help me sleep, a sedative to calm me down... all together I was on seven different class 1 narcotic prescription drugs. I was on so many drugs that when I got out of the hospital and went in search of a new primary care physician, one of them (whose office I stormed out of) said to me "I just want you to know I don't hand these out like candy". Needless to say I never went back to her. Did she think I really WANTED to be on all this garbage?

My trips to the pharmacy for refills were amusing. The pharmacist would look at me with seven shades of wonder and awe. I simply hated my life and wanted to be off of everything I was on, including the pain meds which I couldn't function without.

All of these supposed medications were meant to make me feel better, when all they really did was make me want to slit my wrists. In fact, I tried to kill myself, unsuccessfully, a couple of times. I was in this whirlwind of emotions, and none of them good. I was fresh out of the hospital after being there for six months, had my 2 year old daughter to care for and no idea how to do that from a wheelchair, and I just wanted it all to be over with. I was extremely skinny, undernourished.. and every time I tried to eat I would have a major panic attack, living alone with a toddler, and every day was a new experience, and not necessarily a good one. I remember one day my daughter fell in the bathtub and cut her chin. My chair did not fit through the bathroom door and I was unable to get to her, and my first thought was that if I wasn't around someone else would have to take care of her and at least they would be better equipped.

I eventually found my rhythm and was able to adapt and cope on a somewhat normal level, but I was still not emotionally fit. I finally found myself a great doctor who could see my pain plain as day, and we worked together to get me off of the drugs that were causing all of it. After three months of slowly eliminating everything, including the pain medication, I was back to a somewhat normal level of emotional stability and felt like myself again. I was also much more able to cope with my situation with a clear and healthy mind.

After that experience I am hesitant to take anything that doesn't occur naturally, and even some of those things can be quite harmful to our bodies and minds. I am glad I was strong enough to pull through it all and stick around for my daughter, because in the end she was better off with her mommy, but it was a close one for both of us at one point, and all because of drugs. Prescription drugs, but drugs nonetheless.

Nowadays my anti-depressants are in the form of healthy organic foods, lots of exercise, lots of water, writing in my blog, and days spent enjoying the company of my wonderful daughter.