Blunt.

This post is less interesting to read and more… Life. There is an expectation for me to post, and absolutely no desire to do so on my part. I’m prioritising my attempts to get a life (which, after my birthday for a brief period were going extremely successfully). Things are tough right now. I’m going through a lot, and I have needed, and continue to need, space to fall apart and re-assemble into a human that can deal with this situation. Forgive me for that (and probably for the standard of this post). Also, trigger warning (I’m getting so sick of writing that so sorry if you’re sick of reading it).

My birthday was great. Seriously, it actually was. My smile was genuine for the first time in months. I was given the present of human presence, and managed to gather six other humans to join me for a meal out in Covent Garden (London), and then a trip to a gelato place (where I had the most delicious crepe ever and they cut the ice cream into the shape of petals so it looked like a rose in a cone) and then a slow stroll along the Thames. Many photos were taken by my friends so I have memories to hold on to. I have never laughed so much in my entire life. I felt 21. I was with people, I was back where I loved to be. I felt like I mattered but could not comprehend why… And I was so stunned I just couldn’t believe it was real. 

So reality hit me. Or rather, Skippy (my heart) teamed up with reality, and I was rendered unconscious on the London Underground at a tube stop that means both uni and (until the new year) home. I was beyond devastated. My heart was being an arse, basically. As the paramedics wheeled me through the ticket barrier before carrying me up two more flights of stairs, I made them stop so I could tap out my Oyster card. This was, and still is, the achievement of the year for me. After the paramedic telling me that if he let me out of his ambulance my heart would probably stop and he’d just be following me round London all night scraping me off the floor (he also told me I’d just have to have a second birthday and do it all over again just without the hospitals), I ended up in A&E with three of the best humans to be in A&E with. They stayed, they entertained, they made me laugh, they calmed me down. They went out and brought back McDonald’s at 2am. They were totally chill. 

My heart was totally not, but that was fine because my surgery is on the 22nd, so I was told I really did need this procedure, and to take it very easy until then. This procedure, if it works (50% chance) is going to change my life. The reluctant and cautious hope that this slow and involuntary realisation injected into my mind, filled the cavernous void of nothing that had opened up within me. And there was suddenly… A point. There was a point to me again. There was a point to existing, or at least, to resisting the urge to terminate my existence. There was a purpose for every action. Because there was a future. A chance at one. 

I’ll be able to attend lectures at university, I’ll be able to walk about without sleeping for six hours afterwards, and I won’t be worried about the ticking time bomb I feel lives inside of me. No more fear. Or at least, less of it. And maybe even at some stage, a chance at running… A chance at a life. A chance to be closer to normal than my heart has let me be for a while, instead of sleeping all the time and breathless and swollen and wheezing and unable to even lift my head sometimes. And that picked me up. For the first time since November, I was an almost fully functioning human. In three days I did 24 hours of work. I made lists and organised myself, and got into a routine. I started showering every day again. I cooked my food from fresh instead of buying something factory made. I let myself hope. I lost myself in this protective little bubble that surrounded me even in the tough times, warding off the worst and keeping my mind (and my mood, most of the time) intact. It was like having a force field and a superpower; a presence that I welcomed with relief. And that’s something I never let myself do.

It’s something I shouldn’t have let myself do. It’s something that is never safe. In letting myself climb and be lifted, I set myself up for a fall.

My surgery was cancelled last week. A “life or death” maternity case needs the slot. Two lives lost without it I guess. All of the above stopped. I lost myself in a void. I very nearly terminated my own existence. I very nearly drew my own blood. I sat in the darkness on the floor for three hours and cried. I lost everything, because I lost the hope I had accidentally been relying on and I was in no state to survive the fall. There’s a time when I probably would have explained my feelings here, explained why I was ashamed and guilty for attaching enough value to myself to feel upset at all and all the rest of it. But it still doesn’t feel safe to share here at the moment. Needless to say I have relapsed a little. Less so now. Denial is my home again. And it’s where I’m going to have to stay. My fellow third wheel and I are going to London tomorrow for the day – we’re going shopping and to see a film that he’s seen but that knows I really want to. We were meant for be going for a drink, but I can’t do that now. My entire family is against me going. If I go to walk anywhere or do anything they tell me to think of my heart. But life is about both mental and physical health, and I cannot just sit festering in my thoughts. 

I don’t want to be limited. I physically feel, and am being treated, like I just turned 80. I need to go places, see people, let my mind feel 21. Yes my birthday annoyed my heart, but I was on a knife edge and had been planning on ending my life. I’d go through all the heart drama again for another evening like that. When I’m thinking of other stuff, I forget that I’m scared, I forget that I’m lost, and I forget that I’m hollow. I hate my body right now. I’m angry at it. It’s all that people see, and now those people are joining forces and helping it to limit me. Every part of me rebels against that. I won’t stop everything, why should I? Because a cardiologist took away my hope? Should I die inside to stay alive? What is the point in existing if you have no will to live? I’d top myself before I ever made it to the 19th of April, without continuing my walks in the woods, and the chance to socialise (because this house is NOPE).

I was meant to be having surgery to remove Cedric (growth in my nose) on the 12th of April, and now can’t have that general anaesthetic, because my heart is an unreliable poop. Cedric has now grown to such a size that he obstructs my entire nostril, and is also pressing on a nerve, resulting in nerve pain that runs from my sinuses right through my face and down into my front tooth. Cedric was meant to be removed ages ago, and the surgery has already been delayed 3 times because of my heart. 

My body continues to rebel. Along with the new Cedric pain, Skippy has decided to intermittently hurt in ways he never has before. Through to my back, numb left arm, neck, jaw and then pain in my jaw… Accompanied by the urge to vomit and a tiredness so overwhelming I cease to function and then sleep for hours. I tell myself that I am an idiot, and it will stop, and that there’s nothing that can be done until that procedure (which can’t happen any sooner because it is such a complex case that it needs specialist people present)

And if they are rebelling, why not let my immune system join the show? Yesterday I changed my infusion set to find a small volcano in my stomach (a red lump with a hole left by the cannula in the middle of it which usually closes up pretty quickly). Grossness occurred, confirming my suspicions that somehow my immune system had allowed my subcutaneous tissue to be infected by a supposedly STERILE cannula inserted into a THOUROUGHLY DISINFECTED site. So I went to the GP today. I’m meant to have antibiotics at home because my immune system loves to welcome visitors into my body so often, but I ran out, so she prescribed me enough for my acute issue, and then some more to replenish my supply. She investigated the hard lump that has formed deep below the little volcano, and concluded that it was a collection of infected material and/or gloop about half a centimetre beneath my skin which was pushed much deeper by the cannula and has decided to set up home. If it doesn’t go down within a few days on antibiotics, or gets worse, it needs to be operated on. BUT… MY HEART + surgery that isn’t specifically for it = NOPE.

I’m dealing with normal life stresses. Family dynamics and issues that make me feel… like hurting just to replace the emotional pain with something that can’t last. Behind my health, I am a whole normal person, and most of the time normal life stuff is harder than being unwell. People forget that. I can’t talk about my emotions right now. They are… for my mind only (and my counsellor, a fairly recent and priceless addition to my life) and I cannot deal with being misunderstood right now. 

Reading all this, things aren’t even that difficult. I just no longer have the strength to remain resilient, and letting myself go through the process of feeling what my brain decides to feel stops me breaking down again. I’m trying to find my motivation. University are being absolutely amazing and offering me support that makes my life so much less stressful, so that makes it slightly easier for me to try and think about uni work. But honestly, all I can do right now is hug my dog and play Sim City and go for long dog walks with my surrogate mother (next door neighbour). I’m trying to get a life. But before that, I need to just figure out how to get to a place where I can start. 

I know it’s only four extra weeks until the surgery…

But 4 weeks is a long time to be scared.
Despite featuring in this post, my heart just isn’t in it. I hope you’ll all understand if I just stay away for a while. This just isn’t… Me, right now, and it’s hard enough trying to act more ok than I am on person, I just want to withdraw and just… Rebuild. Possibly. Because honestly, I’m on the edge of existing or erasing that existence right now, and I’d like to try and go with what’s right by everyone else, instead of what’s easiest for me. Which is going to take… Everything I have. 

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27 thoughts on “Blunt.

  1. I hope you know I never have any expectation of a post or a response. It’s just important to me that you know I’m here and I care.

    Cedric is a jerk, and he can go hang out with cannula-dude somewhere else. I feel like ending up in A&E and with ischemia is kinda emergent… what on earth else is going on that they can’t get their shit together to schedule you??

    Hope fuzzy rock is continuing to be fuzzy and also rock-like.

    Thanks for not killing yourself. You are important, and your story isn’t over yet.

    Liked by 1 person

    • It’s kinda just as important to me too I guess. Your comments achieve your aim spectacularly, and that goes a very long way. Often you’re more helpful and considerate than people I actually see face to face and I love reading your comments!

      Cedric is indeed a jerk that’s quite literally getting on my nerve.

      By ending up in A&E with ischemia you’re referring to the incident where I recently collapsed in a lab session at uni right? I mean… Skippy just seems to be feeling particularly arrhythmia-ish at the moment. My heart hasn’t been like this before and I guess the new arm stuff and everything probably also isn’t the best sign of my heart health. My surgery is down as urgent, but two lives trump one, and I guess it’s reassuring that my cardiologist is happy to let me wait. Maybe?

      They can’t fit me in for four weeks because they need a certain group of people together including some specialists and they can’t arrange that for another four weeks after the 22nd. The joys of complex stuff.

      My furry rock is being absolutely amazing. I’m not exaggerating when I say that Labrador therapy is keeping me alive right now. He’s always been my everything but right now he is my EVERYTHING. He seems to just know I need a lot of support, and is happy to provide it. He can’t talk but somehow he says all he needs to with his behaviour and his body language. He’s way more understanding than the humans I find myself around. There’s something about a dog demanding only your attention that makes you feel loved in a way nothing else can. We’re playing fetch a lot and having extra cuddles and I’m not sure if it’s helping him or me more! He seems to be doing much better – no more seizures and no more nasty abscess!

      Thanks for still being here and reading and stuff. Apologies about the slipping standard of my writing.

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      • 🐢🐾❀ I feel like you should do something slightly special just for you tomorrow to show that the surgery does not define you. It is a thing that will happen. Hopefully it will make significant improvements in how the rest of your body deals with life. And maybe it will let you be more active.
        I recommend getting a cake shaped like a heart and enjoying cutting it into small pieces.
        You know, like you do. 😝

        Liked by 1 person

      • My fellow third wheel stated that we need to make today awesome for pretty much the same reasons I think. I am now trying to think of where I may find a cake shaped like a heart because I would take great pleasure in crushing it with a fork. I like the way your mind works here πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚

        Other people define me by this surgery and the state of my heart, and what’s funny is that until very recently Skippy was silently being an idiot and other health stuff was more dangerous. I wish they’d stop seeing my health in place of… me. But my fellow third wheel is very good at leaving my health in the worrying minds of others and just helping me feel human again so hopefully today should be good. I need to let loose and leave my heart and everything else at home. Just for a day, to stroll around a shopping centre and sit in a cinema and just… chill.

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  2. It’s wonderful to hear from you, London Blogger Friend! I’ve been thinking about you. I’m sorry for all the poopy things that are happening to you, between Skippy, Cedric, and your small volcano. Just one thing after another, isn’t it? But I’m glad your furry rock is being such a good rock for you. My kitties have been helping me through a lot, too, and I’ve been through some crap lately myself.

    But thank you for still being here. The world really would be a lesser place without you. Nobody else knows how to be you better than you, and that’s the truth.

    I’m so glad you at least have surgery scheduled. I hope next time it will follow through and you can start living life again. πŸ™‚

    I know I have more to say, but my brain is being a poop and I can’t remember anything else. πŸ˜•

    Liked by 1 person

    • It is equally/actually wonderful to hear from you.

      Yeah Skippy and Cedric and the small volcano… and then the rest. Although among all of the rubbish I’m honestly so relieved that my uni are being so supportive, it’s really going to help my mental state next year I think.

      Animals are awesome.

      That’s pretty incredible of you to say, I’m not sure my brain can find the evidence to agree with you but words are powerful things and the thought behind those ones means a lot.

      This “urgent” surgery has now been moved twice. I’m trying not to let myself look forward to it again, but no hope is… not a good place to be.

      It’s ok, there’s plenty of time in the world for words, and these are plenty enough.

      Even this doesn’t feel like me. These words are… Inaccurate. Sorry.

      Like

    • Was a tough day to start with. Got a little better. Then with what happened in Westminster a lot of stuff was brought up for my family and I cried many times for people I’ve never met but whose families I can empathise with. The world is a shockingly awful place right now. I don’t understand how people can have such malice and cruelty in their hearts. Seeing, and previously experiencing the effects of such bitter hearts… broke mine. My mum says we weren’t meant to be in London yesterday. My mind says… nothing. It’s doing it’s defensively empty thing again. I am trying to write an essay that I’ve been too unwell and too messed up to write (it’s due tomorrow, and I’m currently only researching it). It’s weird because when I switched everything inside of me off, I can function, but I’m kinda hollow.

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      • For family reasons the Westminster thing was very hard. Was totally on it today and then something shameful and traumatising happened to me that I never thought would in my own home. As if I wasn’t already a mess enough. I don’t want to say any more. I don’t know how to essay now

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    • I don’t know why that was so amazing to read right now but wow. The police are very involved and have been quite amazing but I don’t feel anything yet. I won’t mention what happened on this blog and I don’t feel comfortable blogging about it.

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      • Maybe the nice therapist person can help you process? These things are always impossible. They become your whole world but are also intensely private. Transatlantic hugs ❀

        Liked by 1 person

      • Saw her yesterday. Don’t want to talk about it with anyone. She wasn’t helpful, she was just appalled. I’m so tired of talking about it. It isn’t my whole world, I’m actually trying to forget it. Other people are- yeah I don’t even want to write this any more. Plenty of people know thanks to BBC radio MY MOTHER. Thanks for the hugs.

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      • Sorry for annoying you. Really, I am. That wasn’t my intention, I was thinking as I wrote and just can’t talk about it any more. I try to and then I just shut down. I have a brand new journal that I’ve filled with nothing but the aftermath of what occurred and that’s the only place I seem to be able to write without causing hurt. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude. My counsellor was just shocked and appalled by what happened when I told her yesterday and she was sympathetic which always makes me recoil because I don’t like to feel or show weakness or vulnerability and sympathy implies that people perceive both of those things. Everybody is showering me with sympathy and I just… I’m just really sorry. I didn’t mean to make you “Ugh. πŸ˜‘”

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      • It was not an offended or horrified ugh, get that’s out of your head!!!

        I am such an optimistic person most of the time. I truely believe that people want to be kind, that they are good at heart, and that the world is a good place.

        Then there are weeks like this, when in all aspects things seem to go off the rails. These are the weeks where evil and entropy reign. Our national politics are a joke and a train wreck. People commit acts of terrorism and good innocent people die. Senseless crimes are committed, and people’s whole worlds turn upside down. My boss tries to guilt trip me. And my friend feels pain beyond her control.

        I want to believe in good. But weeks like this make me doubt. They make me feel naive. And that makes me go Ugh. Because it’s all too much, and there aren’t any words that can make it better. All I can do is commiserate that life is hard.

        But I have to believe in the future, because it’s impossible to go on otherwise.

        … glad you found a safe space to word-vomit. In the immortal words of Shrek (the cartoon ogre), “better out than in, that’s what I always say”.

        Liked by 1 person

      • Your quote selection has been on point may I just say.
        Sorry, my knee jerk response is kinda always that I’m to blame, especially as I’m somehow blaming myself for the badness of another person. I’ve had about 2-3 hours of sleep tonight and that’s all I’m going to get. The world is a scary place right now, and this week it seems to have decided to remind people of that. I’m sorry to hear about your friend. I’m sorry on behalf of the world for it stealing any hope or faith you had left that there might be good at the core of it. But people like you are proof that there’s good. Minds like yours that hurt when others hurt, and have any sort of faith to lose… they belong to good people. You ARE the good. You ARE the hope. You are a key player in the world of your daughter and I can guarantee that with your presence she feels the world isn’t bad at all. When you have a good mind, you notice the bad in others, you see it everywhere and struggle to understand it. And what would be bad would be if you weren’t troubled by the events you’ve learned of this week, both personal and otherwise. Everything went off the rails but YOUR morals remained, and a lot of other people hurt too. All these things tried to take away the good in your heart and didn’t, and they tried to do the same to a lot of other people and didn’t. For example, over here we had the Westminster attacks and people pulled together, London and England and the UK united. The world didn’t descent into anarchy. The badness didn’t win. The badness happens, but it doesn’t win. It doesn’t get everything it wants. People fight back. So it is present, but never victorious. The day it starts winning… then I’ll let you lose faith in the good guys. (Also your boss sounds like a πŸ’©, and the fact that you have guilt with which to be manipulated again shows your good nature. “Tried” shows that I assume your boss was unsuccessful?) you are more than the bad. People like you are the very reason it doesn’t win. You are surrounded by it, overwhelmed by it, but you have not let yourself become it. And there are literally billions of others who have and will do the same. Find more of them. Take comfort in them. I promise you they are there. K well now I may have to copy and paste part of this into a blog post because I like the philosophy behind it, is that ok?

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      • Oh. Pain is very accurate right now. A phone call from a very nice detective set off an emotional rollercoaster that my counsellor joined me on and got worried I was going to… throw myself off of. It’s been a rough few days, but today it all suddenly felt… real.

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      • Giant hugs, a big fluffy blanket, a cup of hot cocoa, and unwaivering support that’s you will do what you need to in order to get through this.

        Liked by 1 person

    • Let my daughter put on her rain boots and go splash in the puddles after it rained today. Do something that makes you grin ear to ear.

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    • I’m alive. Stuff happens. Needed space. On all the levels of which human interaction occurs, not being able to handle this one bothered me the least. Sorry for the worry. Thanks for sticking with it, I appreciate your… remembering of my existence despite my lack of presence πŸ˜‚ its more than a lot of my “friends” manage (a completely unrelated yet valid point). Probably sound like a πŸ’© right now because I can’t really words but hey, these were all I had and I owed you something so… words. I’m gonna… stop writing now πŸ˜‚

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