The chaos swirling in my mind pulls me deep into the pit of despair. I’ve found myself to be a fragile mess of sensitivity, shut down and paralyzed to life around me. I finally reached my limit and it’s broken me. I’m broken. I’m weak. I’m fragile. Something I’ve never wanted to be. Something I’ve never been. Something that just makes me sink deeper into myself and longing for a simple release from it all. Death doesn’t scare me so much anymore.
I went from being the rock, the picture of stability and strength to the mess I am now. And my choices have left me limited help and assurance. If only I can share the thoughts swirling through my brain. The deepest of the deep in my emotions, feelings, and view upon the matter. I feel stuck. I have absolutely no one to confide in all the secrets in my heart other than God and right now, I’m not so happy with Him. I’m pretty sure, he’s not so happy with me either.
I’ve made my bed and believe me, I’m laying in it. Hind sight… Not much I can do about it now. Choices… No point in the ‘if only’s’. Is this depression? I’m not typically a depressed person. I’ve always been fairly positive and happy go lucky for the most part, knowing I do suffer anxiety and that’s been pretty maxed out the last couple years. Can intense anxiety trigger depression?
It’s been coming at me from so many directions all at the same time, my life’s been flipped upside down and I’ve landed on my head, face first in the dirt and muck and I’m not sure quite how to turn it all around. I unhealthily day dream endlessly for financial winnings, the lottery, HGTV dream home, other sweepstakes, ect to at least lift the financial pressures and provide the financial security that can at least pay away some of the issues plaguing me. I can simply hire the help. I could know my children’s futures were taken care of. I could get out of the noose this home and our bills has tightened around our necks. It would solve a lot of our problems and pay to solve those that need more hands on deep work that seem only available to the rich.
The way our world’s going, I’m so ready for God to come back and fulfill the prophesies left unfulfilled in the Bible. Regardless of others beliefs, I believe it will happen. I believe it’s about that time. I’m not so happy with the world we’re living in and corruption is so deep and lies so tainted that we’re not truly free. We’re not truly living the ‘American Dream’ that allowed our country to be one of the greatest of the greats.
Having to come to terms with my health issues, knowing I will most likely never get better, that THIS IS my life. No cures, no fixes, no real medicine to treat the problem, only pills to mask the symptoms and provide some blessed relief from the pain and insomnia but nothing that helps the heavy limb fatigue that weighs me down. Nothing to stop the world from spinning upon rising and trying to fade to black. Nothing to stop the sensory issues that keep me hiding in a quiet corner, limiting my interactions.
This wasn’t quite the life I pictured for myself. This wasn’t my dream. I always hoped that one day a doctor would solve it. I just needed to hold on and find the right one. Took 15 years to put a name to a couple of the health issues I suffer with. 15 years!!! 15 years to be taken seriously. 15 years to have someone quit blaming anxiety or simply throw me into PT expecting all to get better. 15 years for someone to finally care and want to dig into it. And then she up and left me after being my doctor for a couple years. That was a crushing blow. But I’ve made some progress in getting my answers, a bitter little pill knowing that it will not get better.
Those who suffer ME/CFS seem to have a 5 year window. If you don’t get better within that time-frame, it’s your new buddy for life. I’ve had it for 20 years. Waxing and waning giving me bits of reprieve but always coming back until the last time it never left. It stopped waxing and waning at the mostly functioning level and now simply waxes and wanes at a disabled level. It also seems that a chunk of my medical conditions have also gotten worse with age/time. POT syndrome was like my ME/CFS in it’s waxing and waning though it had always been worse than my ME/CFS in a flare up. It can cause me to be just as weak and fatigued but it too seems to be hanging on and not giving me much reprieve. Just compounds the problem.
Then there’s my bone inflammation. I’ve never had an answer for that one. 5 years! 5 freaking years of intense deep severe bone pain that put me in a wheelchair and left me unable to walk far or without excruciating pain. No answers. Just inflamed hip/thigh bones that felt like they were expanding and ready to burst open, pulling my muscles off my bones along with it. I’m thankful it’s gone down. I’m thankful to have a reprieve from the intensity of that pain. Will it come back? I’ve felt inklings of the pain pushing to the forefront when overdoing it trying to walk, making up for lost time. It’s still quite painful to walk in my muscles and joints but the bones are holding. Every little niggle of bone pain though…. scares the hell out of me, jump-starting my anxiety with questions on whether or not it will come back. If they couldn’t give me a name for what I suffered, how can I know? The limbo it’s left me in is devastating and mind screwing as I simply don’t know if my ability to walk will be taken from me again. Granted, I can’t walk long without breaks or without pain but I can WALK!! Oh how so many take that for granted.
I’m one of those people who NEED to be productive. I’m a hard worker at heart and sitting here day in and day out watching life pass me by, watching things pile up, left undone, building my list of things need doing, just added to all the frustration and havoc swimming in my mind. I’m a doer. My release from anxiety, anger, and frustration is to clean or sing. I actually love to clean. How can one clean to release their frustration when they’re as disabled as I am? Yeah, kind of taking away my outlets for this bottled up frustration. I love to sing. Belting out a song as it washes away the tension and anger but guess what? Bet you never thought how much energy singing uses up. Guess what? It’s a lot. How something as simple as singing is taken for granted. Imagine being so physically fatigued and short of breath that you can’t even sing without wearing yourself out and putting yourself in bed to recoup. All of my outlets taken from me. The music finally came back to me this week. I can handle just a little more than I use to. It’s something.
My life’s journey has taught me a lot. Hind sight.. Oh hind sight. How do you impart your wisdom on your children and make them listen rather than having them suffer some of the same mistakes? How do you protect them from the health complications that can surely be passed down to them? They say many of what I suffer is not genetic and my kids have low risk of acquiring them. Guess what? My son has been suffering like I do. Imagine watching your child hurt from doing simple tasks. Imagine the pain and anger from watching your own child suffer physically knowing the end result and how your own medical journey took 15 years and no real treatment… Why? Doesn’t he have enough on his plate? That crushes me. I fear for my daughter.
Being such giving people and helping when able and watching your extended family walk all over you and take advantage of you after years of helping them… that’s crushing. Realizing that no, you’ll never have the full love and acceptance from a parent that you’ve been seeking all your 43 years. The reality that psychologically, that’s what I’ve been seeking and the crushing truth that the gene is simply missing in that one. It’s not going to happen. Time to toughen up on that front and quit seeking out the acceptance and need for that kind of affection. That ship has now sailed, door closed, chapter ended, reality has finally hit home. I can only do the best for my own children, giving them what I’ve never had and trying to correct my own mistakes from my own upbringing. Life is tough.
And why oh why do I have to have such heart?!!! Why do I have to care so much about others? Even those who take advantage of me, I worry about their own well-being and situation and my son says I’m too soft. I’m a bit of an empath so I can feel the emotions of others around me and even though I know some of them have made their own beds to lie in, I still feel the sadness and gut wrenching feelings for them and don’t want to add to their troubles even if they earned and deserve it. Maybe that’s why family takes advantage. Maybe they innately recognize my heart and know I’ll be the net to catch them when they fall. I don’t want to be that net anymore. I struggle enough trying to take care of my self, let alone, my children. Time for people to stand on their own feet and pull their big person pants on and take care of themselves. I’m burnt. I’m done. I just wish I didn’t have to feel the feelings I feel about it.
All the weight pressing me down and paralyzing me, numbing my mind and shutting me off till I’m simply not functioning anymore. The rock has crumbled. Pieces of me scattered about and broken down wondering how to put it all back together again. I fought so hard to rise above the ashes of my childhood only to sink into a pit of despair in my adulthood. The fighter in me weakened and left with little fight in me anymore. My children have suffered because of it. I feel the guilt from that. Why did my health have to continue to be taken till I was left a blob watching life pass me by and then more hell piled on top with all the other issues that have been added to it. Wasn’t my health enough? Yes, choices, some of my own choices are responsible for some of it. My brain no longer thinking as sharply as it once was and decisions made that never should have… hindsight. Will I ever be able to pull myself from this rut? Can I win the lottery?