I feel like a grandparent. I am in the body of a elderly woman, wondering how I lost my youth so fast. Full of ideas and desires that want to be lived out. Saddened by the reality that my body cannot fulfill my wishes. Wondering what the future holds. If I want to keep open the possibilities of my future I need to stay in reality. If there is to be hope I have to see the gravity of my situation or I will not make daily choices that will guide me to health.
At times I find it haunting to realize where I am at. It is constantly telling my body “No. Don’t touch that, do that, be part of that.”. It is having to then rationalize to myself WHY I am unable to do a simple task such as load the dishwasher when it will only take 5 minutes. My stubborn voice will argue, "But, it will allow for the kitchen to not be such a mess!". It is giving myself a scolding, "NO don’t pick up the items that have fallen to the floor!", and adding the kind reminder of "You are too sick. You don’t need it picked up. Do something else.".
As I listen to the dialogue in my head I am trying to be submissive but am distracted once more with my stack of paperwork, things that need to be sorted. I decide I can sit and do this. I spend 10 minutes, and have accomplished piles. Nearly complete. Just need to put away piles. The pain within me becomes unbearable-headache, nausea, exhaustion, mental fatigue. I must stop. But now I have created a bigger mess. I am leaving things cluttered and am disgusted with myself. I move to the couch and on the way see my purse flown on the couch and say, “Oh that will take one quick minute to put away. I can help do SOMETHING!”. However, once it is “away” I see shoes out of place and a sweatshirt on the floor, a dish that needs to be brought to the kitchen, Buddy's toys across the floor and in goes on and on and on and on like the yellow lines on the midnight road.
I feel this craziness in my head all day long. Debating, pleading, begging, arguing, justifying. It is utter confusion. It is not healthy. It is a stage. It is depression. It is chronic illness. It is normal. It is OK. It is awful. It is a coping mechanism. It is important. It is necessity. It is my life.
And now I think, what will I eat today? "Ah, too tired to think about it! It doesn't matter!"! Then the reasonable, patient me says, " Yes it does! You want to heal so you must eat and eat well. You can take time to prepare a little something.". Once again the debates in my head begin. Same battles, new topic. Where is the retreat for my mind? Where can I find a break from the multiple personalities constant bicker? Meditation. "Boring!", "Everything doesn't have to be FUN! Just do it. Try. Hope. Believe." ….the bout continues……
I wrote this in my journal last August.
You paint a vivid picture of your struggles Chrissy. That dialogue can drive one crazy! It sounds like you're able to come to pretty damn healthy realizations through it though. The struggles over what appears from the outside as such small things like picking up. I hear the frustration. Good for you, journaling! LOL at the "boring" comment. Who can't relate to that thought?!
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