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Dec. 25th, 2007 06:51 pmThis last month has definitely done something to me mentally. Unhinged perhaps. And I think it might have been more a month-long catalyst.
Right now I'm either having a very bipolar moment of EXTREME emotions for NO reason (seriously I was crying and depressed for nearly an hour and I couldn't fathom why) and being totally manic or else I'm coming to some needed realizations.
I don't hate computer games. I like them to some extent... I used to love them but I've started to hate them. I regard things I liked, even loved, with pure contempt. I'm mad at Puzzle Pirates and I don't even know WHY. I want to hide with them away from the world, and yet hide from them.
If I got better...
I had so many plans, how could I not? The day I got better there were so many things I wanted to do. Run around outside for HOURS, do situps until I dropped, then pause and do a million more. Color Guard... for WEEKS. Write and write and write and write. Take my SATS, go to college, write some more, have a real job.... so many things.
Sometimes, a lot of times really, it feels like this just can't be real. 8/9 of my nightmares involved trying to get back my old life or what should have been. Trying to go to school with the migraines and just ignore the pain. Strangely it never worked... and I always always feared that it was because I was too weak. Like somewhere inside me those guidance counselors and things were right and that I was afraid of failing so I didn't try or else I was afraid of succeeding. It's not that, at least THAT I know.
I wonder a lot if the pain can possibly be real. It's not like someone can just take my temperature to determine it and the things they have given me tests for all turn up more or less proving me as a sick person.
I don't want that to be my identity, I never have, never COULD.
Sometimes when things get worse I want to hide away from people because I can't explain to them the sheer restlessness AND fatigue at the same time. The desire to DO something, ANYTHING, and yet the fear of collapsing on the floor again or being in level 10 pain or having to go to ER just due to one solitary food allergy.
That's one of the things about CFIDS I guess, it sneaks up on you. It seems like one day you're relatively normal, maybe a little quirky, maybe a bit workaholic, and maybe even already with your fair share of allergies but then overnight you're allergic to your own shampoo, people wearing perfume give you asthma attacks, and all your favorite foods make you sick to your stomach. Then another day later it's actually 4 YEARS later and you've even got over the rest of the world moving on but you're still in the same place, doing the same things to try to ignore the pain and yet none of it feels routine; just wrong.
Will I EVER get over feeling guilty for not indulging my workaholic side? When I started getting better it seems like I completely slipped back, I was gung-ho about trying to do anything for myself and my foolish pride took over again. Yet if I try to indulge the side that just wants to hide from the pain, I go crazy. And I hate it. I don't know that I'll ever truly be able to stop hating it a little and I think the idea of embracing it scares me.... if I really really enjoyed playing games all day instead of something working-ish, how would I ever get anywhere? By nature I'm not very lazy to begin with and I thought I needed to learn to relax.
But what if I wind up too relaxed? What if I never get out of this?
I don't think that could happen. Hell, I know it could not. Even just ONE WEEK is enough to make me crazy. If I don't write for a week I lose it, and by 3 months I'm frazzled enough to bite people's necks and suddenly have crying fits of frustration.
But I'm scared... I don't want to go to the hospital. I hate it there. It's painful and uncomfortable and oh so boring. I want to do situps so badly... and yet I'm so scared. Even if everything inside me said right now "But the CFIDS is all gone, this is just migraines and lingering allergies! You can do it!" I'd be terrified that it was a lie. And experience reminds me that one sit up can leave me throwing up 48 hours later and trying to do five will put me in the ER.
I like situps... so I kept trying. So I know this from the past.
And yet I can't just hide from pain, there's nowhere to go. It'll never leave me alone even when I zone out the best I can, it follows. And I seem to be depressed whenever I'm not working.
Are humans just not meant to be happy?
I'd happily take meds but I rather suspect it's possibly one of the big problems/causes at the moment.
I need to switch off the lexapro and to something completely else.
That should be a good thing I think. I want it to be a good thing. I'm phasing out of the CFIDS.... I think. And my body is taking care of itself.
But I can't bring myself to trust it and just ride it out. Still something seems wrong, maybe something left unfinished, or else it's just not NEARLY as close as I keep thinking it is.
Time is a weird thing in CFIDS. When I wrote about Mikal having his sense of time skewed it was just an idea I'd been toying with, not an experience. Now it definitely is. It's like the world speeds up but you slow down. Every minute is there but as soon as it's gone it fades away and the giant collection of them is even smaller than the one.
Many times I get frustrated with my inability not only to cope with my situation (why can't I just deal with it already?) but to set goals I can just follow through on. Mini battles fought ever day just to survive once again I can outlast but whether there is more to dealing or not, it doesn't make me content. Some days I'm completely fine, I can remember perfectly that it'll end sometimes, and other days I feel like it can never ever end. At all those times it feels like I'm fighting myself, body vs. mind, soul vs. heart.
Today I'm just fighting the past.
I don't want to wake up and have it be 4 years ago and I'm supposed to just "muscle through" the pain. I know full well it wouldn't work because no matter what I seemed to have convinced myself, that wouldn't have worked. I was already at my limits just as I am now and even knowing what I do now couldn't change that.
And I LIKE where I am now. Well, enough that erasing it would be absolutely horrible. Yes, I'm stronger, even if I feel weaker and AM muscularly weaker. But I made new friends and took completely new directions I couldn't have made without this experience. And yes, old friends slipped away, but that's ok, even if I hadn't been sick many of them would have been lost in the shuffle. I like having One Piece and manga, and anime, and having had more time to work out little things about myself/the world/and everything. And I don't want to lose them.
I don't want to pick up where I left off. I want to start a new life, a better one than I could have had otherwise and one where I don't hate myself for not working -- even if I CAN work. I don't want to be lazy, and I don't think I ever could be but for once I'd like to not hate myself if I slip up. I don't want to loathe myself for mistakes I HAVEN'T MADE. I want to be able to sit for a weekend watching an entire One Piece marathon JUST because I LIKE it and not get mad at myself for wasting time.
And I don't want to live each day just trying to pass time. I don't want to pass time. I want to ALLOW myself to enjoy it. Even if I'm not working. Even if I'm being lazy. Even if I'm migrainey and watching tv and playing Pogo. Even if I can't find what to do with myself and just sit still for an hour in order to conserve energy.
And I get the strangest feeling that until I can do that, I won't get better. And maybe it's because even if I did get better, without that, I'd never be happy and I'd never have the excuse to learn how.
And I'd like to stop having repeat this argument with myself every time I have a relapse.
And you know what else? Even when I DO get better, I still want to write fanfiction. It's fun. And it gives me something I don't put as much pressure on. And it's "easier". And if I just dropped it, I'd miss it. I don't want to lose the things that make up the ME: be it Tigger, Smoker, Ryoga, video games, writing, reading, or even learning to play Pokemon to chill out.
I don't think I need to worry about the SATs, or any of the rest because when I get better, it'll all come to me naturally, and it'll be a new adventure. But that doesn't mean this isn't one too. So why can't I just let myself make the best of it? Am I incapable of enjoying games? Or even just free time? What balance would I need to incoorporate of "work and play". It scares me because I don't want to admit it but what if a workaholic life even when I get better isn't for me? Would that be so wrong? Maybe I'd just burn out too fast.
It's strange because I don't even mean a high-powered executive job, but even just something as a waitress. I would LIKE being a waitress... And I would if my health let me. But maybe that's not something reasonable either. What then? Is it WRONG if I want to work??? But what if I can't ever make it? I don't understand these things. What else is there, I wonder. And it's sad because all I can come up with is God and family... And I don't want kids. Not just because of work, but a million reasons. And maybe it wouldn't be so bad... but at the same time it WOULD. The genetics alone.... *shakes head* And I don't WANT kids. I want a lot out of life and I'm willing to shoot for anything but I don't want kids, I'm selfish.
People don't always get what they want and I think I'm going to keep planning and shooting for the stars. I'll become the high-powered exec, and if nothing else, I'll write TONS, and I'll script, and I'll try at it even if I'm still trying and getting nowhere in my 100s. But for now, I really want to be happy with just being alive. And I don't want to worry about things I have no control over because I already know I've done the best I can, I WILL do the best I can, and worrying won't present solutions, just make me miserable. And I'd like to be able to be energetic without making myself sick, and yeah, I don't think that's going to happen, but then I should at least be happy with keeping still.
Right now I'm either having a very bipolar moment of EXTREME emotions for NO reason (seriously I was crying and depressed for nearly an hour and I couldn't fathom why) and being totally manic or else I'm coming to some needed realizations.
I don't hate computer games. I like them to some extent... I used to love them but I've started to hate them. I regard things I liked, even loved, with pure contempt. I'm mad at Puzzle Pirates and I don't even know WHY. I want to hide with them away from the world, and yet hide from them.
If I got better...
I had so many plans, how could I not? The day I got better there were so many things I wanted to do. Run around outside for HOURS, do situps until I dropped, then pause and do a million more. Color Guard... for WEEKS. Write and write and write and write. Take my SATS, go to college, write some more, have a real job.... so many things.
Sometimes, a lot of times really, it feels like this just can't be real. 8/9 of my nightmares involved trying to get back my old life or what should have been. Trying to go to school with the migraines and just ignore the pain. Strangely it never worked... and I always always feared that it was because I was too weak. Like somewhere inside me those guidance counselors and things were right and that I was afraid of failing so I didn't try or else I was afraid of succeeding. It's not that, at least THAT I know.
I wonder a lot if the pain can possibly be real. It's not like someone can just take my temperature to determine it and the things they have given me tests for all turn up more or less proving me as a sick person.
I don't want that to be my identity, I never have, never COULD.
Sometimes when things get worse I want to hide away from people because I can't explain to them the sheer restlessness AND fatigue at the same time. The desire to DO something, ANYTHING, and yet the fear of collapsing on the floor again or being in level 10 pain or having to go to ER just due to one solitary food allergy.
That's one of the things about CFIDS I guess, it sneaks up on you. It seems like one day you're relatively normal, maybe a little quirky, maybe a bit workaholic, and maybe even already with your fair share of allergies but then overnight you're allergic to your own shampoo, people wearing perfume give you asthma attacks, and all your favorite foods make you sick to your stomach. Then another day later it's actually 4 YEARS later and you've even got over the rest of the world moving on but you're still in the same place, doing the same things to try to ignore the pain and yet none of it feels routine; just wrong.
Will I EVER get over feeling guilty for not indulging my workaholic side? When I started getting better it seems like I completely slipped back, I was gung-ho about trying to do anything for myself and my foolish pride took over again. Yet if I try to indulge the side that just wants to hide from the pain, I go crazy. And I hate it. I don't know that I'll ever truly be able to stop hating it a little and I think the idea of embracing it scares me.... if I really really enjoyed playing games all day instead of something working-ish, how would I ever get anywhere? By nature I'm not very lazy to begin with and I thought I needed to learn to relax.
But what if I wind up too relaxed? What if I never get out of this?
I don't think that could happen. Hell, I know it could not. Even just ONE WEEK is enough to make me crazy. If I don't write for a week I lose it, and by 3 months I'm frazzled enough to bite people's necks and suddenly have crying fits of frustration.
But I'm scared... I don't want to go to the hospital. I hate it there. It's painful and uncomfortable and oh so boring. I want to do situps so badly... and yet I'm so scared. Even if everything inside me said right now "But the CFIDS is all gone, this is just migraines and lingering allergies! You can do it!" I'd be terrified that it was a lie. And experience reminds me that one sit up can leave me throwing up 48 hours later and trying to do five will put me in the ER.
I like situps... so I kept trying. So I know this from the past.
And yet I can't just hide from pain, there's nowhere to go. It'll never leave me alone even when I zone out the best I can, it follows. And I seem to be depressed whenever I'm not working.
Are humans just not meant to be happy?
I'd happily take meds but I rather suspect it's possibly one of the big problems/causes at the moment.
I need to switch off the lexapro and to something completely else.
That should be a good thing I think. I want it to be a good thing. I'm phasing out of the CFIDS.... I think. And my body is taking care of itself.
But I can't bring myself to trust it and just ride it out. Still something seems wrong, maybe something left unfinished, or else it's just not NEARLY as close as I keep thinking it is.
Time is a weird thing in CFIDS. When I wrote about Mikal having his sense of time skewed it was just an idea I'd been toying with, not an experience. Now it definitely is. It's like the world speeds up but you slow down. Every minute is there but as soon as it's gone it fades away and the giant collection of them is even smaller than the one.
Many times I get frustrated with my inability not only to cope with my situation (why can't I just deal with it already?) but to set goals I can just follow through on. Mini battles fought ever day just to survive once again I can outlast but whether there is more to dealing or not, it doesn't make me content. Some days I'm completely fine, I can remember perfectly that it'll end sometimes, and other days I feel like it can never ever end. At all those times it feels like I'm fighting myself, body vs. mind, soul vs. heart.
Today I'm just fighting the past.
I don't want to wake up and have it be 4 years ago and I'm supposed to just "muscle through" the pain. I know full well it wouldn't work because no matter what I seemed to have convinced myself, that wouldn't have worked. I was already at my limits just as I am now and even knowing what I do now couldn't change that.
And I LIKE where I am now. Well, enough that erasing it would be absolutely horrible. Yes, I'm stronger, even if I feel weaker and AM muscularly weaker. But I made new friends and took completely new directions I couldn't have made without this experience. And yes, old friends slipped away, but that's ok, even if I hadn't been sick many of them would have been lost in the shuffle. I like having One Piece and manga, and anime, and having had more time to work out little things about myself/the world/and everything. And I don't want to lose them.
I don't want to pick up where I left off. I want to start a new life, a better one than I could have had otherwise and one where I don't hate myself for not working -- even if I CAN work. I don't want to be lazy, and I don't think I ever could be but for once I'd like to not hate myself if I slip up. I don't want to loathe myself for mistakes I HAVEN'T MADE. I want to be able to sit for a weekend watching an entire One Piece marathon JUST because I LIKE it and not get mad at myself for wasting time.
And I don't want to live each day just trying to pass time. I don't want to pass time. I want to ALLOW myself to enjoy it. Even if I'm not working. Even if I'm being lazy. Even if I'm migrainey and watching tv and playing Pogo. Even if I can't find what to do with myself and just sit still for an hour in order to conserve energy.
And I get the strangest feeling that until I can do that, I won't get better. And maybe it's because even if I did get better, without that, I'd never be happy and I'd never have the excuse to learn how.
And I'd like to stop having repeat this argument with myself every time I have a relapse.
And you know what else? Even when I DO get better, I still want to write fanfiction. It's fun. And it gives me something I don't put as much pressure on. And it's "easier". And if I just dropped it, I'd miss it. I don't want to lose the things that make up the ME: be it Tigger, Smoker, Ryoga, video games, writing, reading, or even learning to play Pokemon to chill out.
I don't think I need to worry about the SATs, or any of the rest because when I get better, it'll all come to me naturally, and it'll be a new adventure. But that doesn't mean this isn't one too. So why can't I just let myself make the best of it? Am I incapable of enjoying games? Or even just free time? What balance would I need to incoorporate of "work and play". It scares me because I don't want to admit it but what if a workaholic life even when I get better isn't for me? Would that be so wrong? Maybe I'd just burn out too fast.
It's strange because I don't even mean a high-powered executive job, but even just something as a waitress. I would LIKE being a waitress... And I would if my health let me. But maybe that's not something reasonable either. What then? Is it WRONG if I want to work??? But what if I can't ever make it? I don't understand these things. What else is there, I wonder. And it's sad because all I can come up with is God and family... And I don't want kids. Not just because of work, but a million reasons. And maybe it wouldn't be so bad... but at the same time it WOULD. The genetics alone.... *shakes head* And I don't WANT kids. I want a lot out of life and I'm willing to shoot for anything but I don't want kids, I'm selfish.
People don't always get what they want and I think I'm going to keep planning and shooting for the stars. I'll become the high-powered exec, and if nothing else, I'll write TONS, and I'll script, and I'll try at it even if I'm still trying and getting nowhere in my 100s. But for now, I really want to be happy with just being alive. And I don't want to worry about things I have no control over because I already know I've done the best I can, I WILL do the best I can, and worrying won't present solutions, just make me miserable. And I'd like to be able to be energetic without making myself sick, and yeah, I don't think that's going to happen, but then I should at least be happy with keeping still.
