Down the rabbit hole …

Had a complete meltdown in my doctors office this morning and in an instant, I had a plan to die and knew I’d never make it home if I left. Sitting in that room, sifting through the past month’s tests and prescriptions, hearing that staying the course is the only way through. I told her that I felt overwhelmed emotionally and was physically immobilized. I can’t be poked anymore, tested, gnaw at my nails awaiting test results while my vision sporadically leaves.

There’s just no words to describe how weary I’ve grown. Yes, I’m a strong woman, but this appears to be my tapping out for the time being.

Now, I sit in an emergency room a few floors down from my doctor’s office with a 1on1 nurse. I’m still in pain. My circumstances have only gotten worse by choosing this path to take care of myself.

Fuckin A.

I feel complete hopelessness. Everything feels nihilistic.

Sunday’s Song

This past week proved challenging and there were both sweet and sour unexpectedly and simultaneously.

Valentine’s Day was low-key due to my own limitations, but in the end will be more dear to my heart than most any other before.  I feared for my life and wanted to surrender to death at all once, due to uncontrolled pain which anguished me both physically and mentally. I hoped for my future relationships while sulking in the loss of others. There was both confusion and clarity. There were moments of bravely being vulnerable, bearing my soul and asking for help, while wanting to run away and hide from everything and everyone.

I dared greatly, but not yet all the way. Not because I can’t go there, but because there is no where to go, nor anyone to go with.

drapetomania

After 2MRIs, another spinal tap (STAT!) and providing enough blood to fake a crime scene, I’m beyond tired. I’m the kind of tired that sleep doesn’t fix.

I feel like a medical guinea pig. I’m always genuinely surprised when something does show up in a test because if you know anything about autoimmunity, it should be that there are many years of chasing symptoms to test. I feel like an immense burden to any and everyone that cares.

I retreat so as not to owe

Sunday’s Song

This past week I had a friend of the opposite sex tell me that I wounded him with malice, without me even knowing I had ever had such a thought.  I cried and made my case. Then, somewhere in the midst of sending paragraph explanations, I quit. I’ve got nothing but love here. That’s my heart. There is no reason for me to tip-toe when I know my intent. Also, I have noted this interesting pattern: Usually when someone assumes/accuses ill intent where there is none on my part, it’s the accuser shadow boxing their own transgressions, or those that have previously trespassed against them.

If you want to be trusted, you have to trust. If you want more love, you have to risk love. That’s the whole thing.