*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!

recovery

to be entirely honest, the state that i am in right now is rather disconcerting. recovery never felt like this, all these while in the past 6.5 years. it’s been 2 months since i entered this stage of normalcy where nothing quite happens. everything seems monotonous and flat. and i then i wonder if this is really life? it feels so awkward?

despite still being on a school break, i still try to keep up with managing my pain. pain always seems to outrun me, and then also the painkillers that i’m willing to take. painkillers, anti-emetics, physiotherapy, tennis ball, acupuncture, TENS unit. despite all these i still can’t keep up. i also have psychiatric appointments to keep every week, and they make me so tired *phew*.

my friends tell me that they noticed that seem more joyful, more at peace (really??). 2 months of normalcy hasn’t been easy, and i wonder what it would be like to lose it all again. too easy. i know i am very vulnerable right now, especially with visual triggers. and i know i will fall again if i lose to my impulsivity. but no one ever said it was easy?

let’s just pray that i will keep wanting this. because i sure am hell ain’t used to this.


after edit:

i don’t know what clicked. how recovery could’ve eluded me for 6.5 years, and it happens just like that??? i know it must’ve been divine intervention.

but nevertheless, no matter how rosy it seems, the struggle seems real. i still have bouts of sadness, but i do feel inexplicable joy at times. i don’t hurt myself anymore, but i had an incident, and i get triggered constantly and the threat of falling any second is very real. most of my other symptoms have improved from the tireless pursuit of psychiatric medications.

dei gratia


by the grace of God (latin)

God doesn’t necessarily gives us what we want. He gives us what we need.

in the same vein, thinking for years that i needed answers to heal? i couldn’t be more wrong. i always wondered why i couldn’t find the healing that eluded me. i believed that if i had answers, i could heal. but to be completely honest, i already have the answers. but answers don’t magically make everything go away.

going to the retreat in early January, not knowing much of what i wanted out of the retreat except that i wanted healing (by default that is always what i want out of a retreat), i left feeling rather unchanged. i didn’t “feel” like i was healed. but then again, what does it feel like to be healed? i felt underwhelmed. but as days go by, it became more evident that God’s grace was working in me. i was more joyful, less melancholic. i was able to cooperate with His grace. i am even more than 2 months cut-free! ah, such grace! also, God’s grace working inside of me though intangible, was even witnessed by my community!

this grace He gives was what i needed. it was a long time coming, but we live in God’s time!