The old saying misery likes company is bollocks. It is for me anyway. I seem to keep on pushing people away. It’s easier.
These days I don’t have the energy to talk to anyone. Nobody wants to hear me telling the truth that most days I feel like shit. I’ve got a migraine from the nerves in my neck and my whole arm feels like it’s been put through a cheese grater, or at best sunburnt. My chest feels like I have a permanent rubber band around it, and if I eat the smallest of meals I start coughing. It’s even happened after one bloody biscuit! Then I have to spend the next couple of hours trying not to piss myself sitting on the bipap coughing my guts up. This and I still get the feeling that the doctors don’t believe me when I say most days I’m under my recommended calorie intake, because nobody wants to admit that the meds make me fat! They do, I was talked back into taking gabapentin after they did it before, so I stopped taking them. But now after a few months of being back on them (because I was convinced it couldn’t be them even though face, arms, and leg swelling and weight gain is a common side effect) I’m nearly 20 stone and I eat less than a toddler! I’m told it may be what I’m eating rather than how much, but that’s bollocks too because I eat so little of everything. I enjoy healthy foods over processed.
Exercise is just not possible, but I used to use it to help stop me putting on too much even though I was overweight before. I can’t do the cardio type stuff that will burn fat now. I’m only just able to do 15 minutes treading water or walking very slowly on oxygen and holding on.
This now has the same impact on my breathing as eating so need to sit on my bipap afterwards. So I’m pissed off about that, and I’m pissed off with putting on a front. All my adult life I’ve been happy and bubbly as it’s part of the job description. I was always told to leave my problems at home or at worst in the staff room. And that’s how I tend to operate as a default, It’s how I went 6 months without anyone realising I had post natal depression. My smile is my armour, as well as perfect hair and makeup.
It’s all been stripped now, pretty hair is a thing of the past and I never wear makeup now. It’s way too much effort.
I’m even struggling to smile…my last tool in my armour is going and I don’t have the energy to fight it.
This is so much harder than I ever imagined. I remember being in hospital thinking that once I was home I would gradually get better, and I am. But it’s just so slow, and with the new curve ball coming up I’m terrified it’s going to send me back months.
As always like Dory, I’ll keep on swimming 🐠 even if I sometimes feel like I’m drowning.
Good news though is we pick our new motorbility car up on Saturday! So hopefully life will be easier when I can get out more.
Bex 🌈💕
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