Tag Archives: chronic illness

Things I Need to Get Out

I don’t know myself anymore.  I blame my illnesses, and yes… mostly they are to blame and I have the right to blame them. But part of me blames myself… and others.

I am not strong enough. I used to be the rock that kept everything together, the glue that bound it all up. I used to be strong… stronger anyway. I was very good at pretending to be stronger than I was. I was very good at pretending life was perfect.

Something very bad happened in my life, when I was about 24. It changed me, broke me in every way possible,  chewed me up and spit me out in pieces. I can’t talk about that now. It’s just too much… but it’s important to note that this event occurred.

Perfect life turned completely upside down and inside out. I lost everything… even my very soul.

I was able to pull it together somewhat on the outside after a couple of years, but the person I was before the horrific event… that person is forever gone.

I’m screwed up in the head, you see. I’m worthless… I’m a piece of trash too insignificant for anyone to even bother picking up or even kicking aside. No matter how many times anyone tries to convince me otherwise, I still know it’s true.  Because I’m the one who has to live with myself… it’s easy for someone who doesn’t even know you to try and make it okay with simple words.

I have abused myself in ways I can’t even describe.  Pain… I deserve all the pain… I need the punishment for being such a piece of shit. Punishment from myself,  punishment from others, punishment from my illnesses…

I let people emotionally abuse me. I deserve it. One person in particular really.  The only one I’ve ever let get close enough to me for it to really hurt… to cause emotional stabbing and beating and slicing and scarring… not just a sting from someone who doesn’t matter.

This person really fucking matters and I’m not even sure why sometimes.  I love him. Well, in the only way I know how to love… which obviously isn’t ever right or nearly enough… but still.

The only person who I can never completely push away… always within reaching distance… even though I know in my mind the emotional abuse is very bad for me… but still, I love him and he’s always there for me. Even when he’s not. I know that doesn’t make sense to anyone who happens to read it… I can’t find the right words to even begin to explain what that means or how it feels.

I am on an emotional roller coaster.  He has the controls and I’m sitting in the seat… but I’m blindfolded,  so I can’t see what’s coming next. Is it going to be calm and level?
Going uphill and getting better, more excitement and happiness, feeling high on the world, only to be dropped hundreds of feet and landing there alone at the end of the ride, disappointed that it’s over, that it ended suddenly,  that it hurt so much when it jolted to a stop, but still getting excited because this roller coaster is never ending and my brain can’t wrap around the thought that it is going to end up being the exact same thing every time…

That’s what loving him and being with him is like. Yet I can’t get off the ride. Ever. He has the controls and never stops long enough for me to leave the amusement park. And even if I did leave it, I’d be back. Because that’s where I want and need to be. It’s the only place I feel safe and secure, even though it’s the most dangerous place for me to be.

It wasn’t like this in the beginning of Us. I had a good job and good benefits,  so did he. We had so much fun together. He helped me as I began picking up the pieces of my shattered life.

Then I got sick. So sick. Two brain surgeries and multiple diagnoses later left me unable to work and in tremendous pain. Once again, just as life had started looking good… it ended almost as quickly as it began.

Depression overtook me. Apparently I became an abuser as much as I was an abusee. And I don’t think I even realized it at the time. I just remember feeling numb… nothing… he says I laid in bed for 2 years. I’m sure I wasn’t pleasant. It took a toll on him too… I do remember his abuse… just not mine.

I’m yet a different person now than I was before I got sick. So I don’t know who I am anymore… at all.

I am in too much pain… physically,  mentally, emotionally. He and I live in separate states now… but we’re still together. When he visits, it’s good. When he’s gone it turns to shit and I’m left unable to even talk to him on the phone because he turns into the abuser again.


Things I Collect: Part 1

So I’ve decided to do a series of posts on things I collect.  I collect a lot of different things, mostly because these things make me happy!

Being chronically ill and being unable to do a lot of things I once enjoyed, these collections help fill some of the void I have from being mostly homebound, especially during cold or rainy weather. (Which has recently started where I am… cold and rainy. I’m afraid Autumn weather won’t last long if at all).

I’m going to show a partial collection today, because some of them are still packed away from the move. The most special and unique ones are still in a box, but I will get them out as soon as I am up to the challenge 🙂

So I suppose you’re wondering what this collection is…

image

This is a part of my chopstick collection! The best are yet to come, but these ones are pretty cool too.

I actually use these chopsticks a lot… but not as eating utensils (I have regular ones for dining in my kitchen. Those ones are plain and uninteresting. )

These are the chopsticks I use to put my hair up with sometimes, in different ways. One of my fellow bloggers, Anouchka from LifeOfBun, actually asked me to do this post. She uses chopsticks in her hair too, and has a great tutorial on some of her styles here!

image

These aren’t technically chopsticks, but I stuck them in here anyway. They are called hairsticks. They are a bit difficult to work with because  their width and my thick hair don’t cooperate. But they are so adorable I don’t mind a little frustration to make them work!

image

These are made of a special kind of wood… I forgot which kind, but they came in a set a friend brought feom Japan. I love the shape of the tops!

image

These are quite unique and have lots of different colors and textures. I wasn’t able to capture all of their amazingness with my camera…

image

These are plastic chopsticks… I love the black base and the colorful contrasts towards the tops. I wear these a lot too.

image

These came from an Asian restaurant in Chinatown years ago when I went to San Francisco for a few weeks. I don’t own many clothing items that match these, but I love the gold detailing so I wear them anyways!

image

These are one of my favorite sets. They are shorter than most of the others and much simpler to use, plus they are lovely, I think!

image

image

These last two are from the wooden set from Japan. They have interesting patterns. The thing about the Japanese set is that the chopsticks are very long. I wear them on occasion but they are troublesome and I always end up poking myself during use. I really want to use a dremel tool or something to shorten them up, then they would be a joy to wear!

Even though I don’t get out much anymore, I still use these some. Plus I have them arranged in a vase on my nightstand so I can look at them and get instantly happy!

So that’s it for part 1 of my chopstick collection.  I can’t wait to show the rest! Several of them are super old and have history behind them 🙂