I haven’t written in a very long time. I go through phases where I simply have no energy to write. Also, I go through long phases where I feel as if keeping a blog is absurd and only helping myself. Then, I read the reader comments you all post on this site and I feel much better and inspired to keep my “log” going. A “log” of my hurdles and triumphs. I was also waiting for a “good time” to happen in my life for a longer stretch than 2 days, because I get exhausted writing about the things that are wrong with my life. One of the only reasons I’ve stayed alive is because of my need for optimism and rejoicing. In fact, until I experienced true, real, honest to goodness massive depression last year I felt I wasn’t “allowed” to be down. I already have enough cards against me with my poor health I don’t need the extra social deterrent of depression or complaining. I’m a “never-give-up” type of person – not a complainer.
The actual reality is that I am extremely grateful. I have a ton of health problems that have drastically altered the course of my life, but after watching the images of Haiti and remembering Katrina, I think how awful it is for me to complain about my ongoing health issues. BUT the difference is that those situations are immediate crisis, death in some cases within days rather than what sometimes seems like a very long and drawn out death sentence. Either way, living with a chronic painful illness is horrific (not to take away from the many people in these crisis that will now also have life-long health issues as a result of the crisis…). For example, recently I sadly discovered a colleague of mine is dead – I found out from Facebook because she lived in New York and I hadn’t bumped into anyone in her circles. So I read how she died – A very short sickness and then – boom – she’s dead. That’s what I don’t understand. Why have I lived through some extraordinarily bad scenarios and also why has it been so long and drawn out? It has required every drop of energy that could ever exist in my body to stay alive – but when my colleague is sick for a week only – she’s dead. I used to love to girl talk with her (my dead friend). She helped me out in ways that I’ll never totally know.
I’m torn between feeling awful for my dead friend all the way to feeling like I’ve been cheated out of death myself – In many ways I feel I should be dead by now also. Of course that is absurd, and I waffle back to feeling extremely grateful that I am alive. But the reality is that I’ve been so deathly ill so many times that it just doesn’t makes sense to me. Regardless, her life was important to me.
Last year I had such severe depression due to my many health problems that I had hit a wall. I found that I could not work , could not think, and that I had also lost all of many of my ” friends” because of my illnesses. I checked into a 5-month long partial hospitalization program in the hopes of getting my life somehow back on track. The program was part of the mental health department of a very good hospital). There, I was told I have severe PTSD – post traumatic stress disorder (I had a very tumultuous and violent life before 21 yrs old).
The program ended for me in November and I met all my goals except for one. It worked well for me – I was able to rebuild my company from ground up. I re-opened the doors, took on clients again, brought on a new assistant and 9 trainees. I’m finally working hard on the projects I had crumbled over in the Spring and Summer. I at least got all of that back on track. I wasn’t able to bring in enough clients to grow my company to anything close to its former size yet, but I’m working on it.
In truth, I don’t even know if it is possible for me to continue my job. Even though my work is my true passion, my body is making it impossible to do. I am fighting to continue my work, but I can see both scenarios happening (1) me continuing to build my strength and fighting against all odds to continue doing my company & job. (2) me not being able to do the job I’ve always felt I was put on this earth to do. So facing the reality that I might not ever be able to my work in the same way again is beyond heartbreaking and crushing.
There are so many things I still can’t get back. First, my Jax. Even though we are best friends now and see each other 2-3 times per day, I have not been able to get him over his fear of me getting bed-ridden again like I was before I got my medical pump put in (for chronic pancreatitis). He’s still shell-shocked about all the times I couldn’t walk (from RA). The one thing I didn’t accomplish in the “program” at the hospital was that I still haven’t gotten an appointment with a proper nutritionist. BUT I have gotten a disabled placard finally and am applying for SSDI (disability insurance) on Thursday via a non-profit organization’s help. This is the key to my entire future. I can only work very limitedly so it is critical. Luckily, over 2009 I found many resources in Los Angeles to live with chronic health issues. Another resource is that I got approved for a disabled van services so that I can take my sleeping meds and not be on the road.
I do feel like I am past that wall, but the new one is the fear that no mate will ever want me. Who would be crazy enough to want to put up with all of my health issues theat often cripple my life? Who would want to stress about whether I should give up on the idea of kids forever or try to be cool with the concept. So much to have running through my head!! I hate it!! In 2009 I’d often say “I want my old life back!!” But now I ‘m way past that though
- I’ve got too much going for me – too much I’ve rebuilt to give up or go back now. But the one that’s still the hardest for me is not being “with” Jax.
Anyhow, I clearly have tons more to write about so I’ll just have to check in tomorrow and try to get all caught up with what’s been happening.
Lv, sasha xoxoxo