*ripppppp*

  • it’s not ok to say you’re not ok. people don’t want to know why you’re not ok.
  • when your friends say they understand you, they actually don’t. really.
  • and so, never seek to be understood.
  • don’t open your heart to anyone. it’s irretrievable and regret is inevitable.
  • there is never solely a single panacea.
  • keep your words to yourself if your words don’t lift the other person up.
  • love and care too much at your own peril. you’ll be fucking damned.
  • don’t look for love. love will find you.

since my discharge i’ve been very troubled, very pensive. there’s too much going on, and i don’t know why. in my head is solely self-reproach. there’s no room to be kind or gentle, however much i try. i close my eyes and i hear disparaging words, berating myself for all that i’ve done wrong. i sit in the present, helpless in changing the past, and looking to the future feeling extremely hopeless. i don’t know what to do. every single moment i’m awake i’m ruminating, and the only reprieve is when i’m asleep, or when i…

it weighs heavily on my heart that my final school year starts in 2 weeks. i hate to return to classes and a 10,000 word dissertation in such a state. there is no room to fall, no room to say “i need some time/space”.

and the worst part is that it is likely nothing can be done to alleviate all of these.

can i just walk away from life and disappear into nothingness?

 

 

to love so deeply and to care too much can be quite tragic.

and it is a part of me i could never accept nor embrace.

after the fall

so as i chased after darkness, i fell. serves me right. it was painful, not for the act itself, but the repercussions. when did it ever not hurt? questions rained down on me throughout the 5 days i was in the system. it sowed doubts in my heart and rendered me discombobulated. and it did not help that i could not find the light anymore. i walked out of there as soon as i could. i wanted to find the light, and i couldn’t find it while locked up in there. i know it is out there somewhere. but out in the splendid darkness, if light is not to be found, that is most dangerous for me.


i guess recovery constantly tests a person’s spirit. it’ll always ask “do you want this badly enough?”, as if to keep you on your toes. and if you let slip that you don’t, that’s when you crack and fall. and as long as you choose the light over darkness, recovery will demand that you damn well put in whatever effort it takes to get through each day. choose it, or lose it. mmm. that’s harsh.

 

 

the struggle

what a tragedy it is, that in recovery i am still struggling to live. a state of being deemed normal to others is a state of being too strange and uncomfortable. i seemed to have forgotten what it means to truly live. these 2.5 months have been good yet too surreal for me. everything seems strangely quiet. it’s so quiet it’s deafening in my head. i can’t sit easy. i struggle with the peace. why are things so calm? but despite all i try to celebrate my cut-free days. but it seems that i’m still very early in recovery attempt. he tells me that i can’t celebrate. not just yet. i’ve had better days- 7 months straight. and my psychiatrist can’t forget how hard i fell right after that. (he also couldn’t rule out the possibility that i may fall into depression yet again.) so in the meantime, i just have to hold on tight. normal is good. strange but good. and i would just have to settle with that, and learn that it will be ok.


everytime i see my rheumatologist or anaesthetist, i tell myself “this is it!”. i tell myself that this will be the consult that will make things all better again. ┬áTEN years down the road, and it cannot be more untrue. there is no cure, no fix for all these chronic pain stemming from RA and fibromyalgia. nothing can truly make them go away. to wish that my doctors, however good they are, can make them go away, is unrealistic. and i am only being too hard on myself for asking to be rid of all the pain.

i begged my anaesthetist to take away all my fibro pain (at the least; my rheumy can take care of my joints). going through all my symptoms and then the list of medications he’s been giving me, there really wasn’t much he could give me. he kept all the medications the same, except that he increased the topiramate now to 50mg BD to help with the tension headaches. he was quite appalled by my usage of ergotamine, but i told him this was the state of my headaches. i decided not to get any trigger point injections or intra-articular injections because it’s been proven to be quite futile over the past few years. and i’ve told him i’ll be continuing with physiotherapy, but will be stopping acupuncture. i walked out of the consultation room heavy-hearted. as usual, nothing could be done. i am going to have to live with the debilitating back pain by myself. it doesn’t help that RA is flaring bit by bit each day, and Arcoxia is not helping much.

without considering the 17 years i was undiagnosed, it’s been 10 years. with each day i’m growing more and more weary fighting the pain. and people wonder why i am tired??? i don’t know what i would give to make it all go away. but that would be bliss!