I did want to write a Wordful Wednesday this past week about how bittersweet I felt about my birthday, which was the 28th, but when the actual day rolled around, I ended up doing my best to put everything that was building up inside me to the back burner and just tried to focus on my friends and family who wanted to celebrate my life.
It was hard.
It's been a challenge to keep up with this blog like I really want to lately. Being sick makes everything a chore. This post might become a bit of a rant because I haven't posted anything "wordy" lately, but still yet, I need to air this not just for myself but also so you guys understand. I apologize ahead of time--this is going to be a "pity party" post instead of a "birthday party" post.
Now,
I know from talking with most of my friends that compared to when growing up, birthdays just aren't the same somehow anymore. It's not really about the presents (to most), and our energy is now focused on what is considered more "grown-up" festivities (usually). Those of us who can still take the chance to get pretty wasted, though, do. I don't blame them--I would if I could.
The reason I used the term "bittersweet," earlier is...for an overwhelming amount of reasons, really.
To cut to the chase, if you read this blog, you know I'm sick.
I've deteriorated a little I'd say in the past month or two--mentally and physically--but definitely mentally with depression, declining cognition, etc.
I've gotten to the point where I'm almost unable to tolerate certain loud noises like dishes clanging together as they're being taken out of the dishwasher or a repetitive and loud beeping sound, like the microwave or a phone. Even my dad's extremely loud voice has driven me to the point of tears lately.
I know I have misophonia, which is a condition where noises like people chewing gum, tapping their fingers, or sometimes even breathing heavy can make me restless or annoyed--especially when it's close family, I become extremely upset and enraged. I can't even make this up, guys. It sounds like a two year old having a temper tantrum, but it's real and it SUCKS and yes, mine was brought on by the Lyme disease.
This is just one of the things I've been dealing with lately and I feel absolutely crazy.
It feels bittersweet turning 23 because--what is changing?
Yes, I'm trying to take better care of my health as much as I have control over--diet, exercise, etc.
Yes, my doctor is trying to go about implementing a better treatment plan (but kept repeating in the last session that so-and-so doctor would handle my case much better, meaning she's pretty much done with me).
Other than that, I'm sick and I'm scared that much isn't going to change in the future.
Have you ever made a wish at 11:11 at night and woke up the next morning thinking, hoping it came true? That something in your life changed?
That's how I wanted to feel the day I turned 23.
I wanted to be able to go into a crowded place and not feel like I was going to have a seizure;
I wanted to immediately feel strength in my legs, in my arms...energy throughout my body;
I wanted to be able to go one day without having to take a nap in the middle of it;
I wanted to go a day without a migraine--just one day;
I wanted to go one day without realizing how much pain I was really in;
I wanted to have just one day where I didn't forget to take a pill or to eat a meal or what my name was.
I want to be 23, independent, and not a burden to my parents--never a burden anymore.
For my birthday, it was so nice and sweet to have people I love came together to have fun with me, even though the best I can do right now is drink maybe one beer and play UNO for a few hours. They obliged anyway, and that's why I love them.
But when I realized a migraine was hitting me, most of my joints were sore, and all the noise around me was turning into one large hum, I knew the big two-three was not some miracle panacea.
I'm trapped in this sick body and all I want is to be free.
But the older I get, the more I lose hope.
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