Yeouch!

Well that was scary and ridiculously painful. I can’t help but wonder; if a partial kneecap dislocation feels this bad what the full dislocation would feel like?

I’m actually terrified of knee issues. When I was a child, one of my friend’s kneecaps (yes both kneecaps) just shattered. One minute he was standing there next minute he was on the ground screaming.

Since then, every time I get so much as twinge in my knee I tense up.

Advertisements

The waiting game.

When I had the endoscopy 2 weeks ago I was told that I had no serious issues with my esophagus, stomach and duodenum. There were signs of inflammation that the GI believed was due to my medication intake. Waiting for the biopsy results seems to be giving me a stress induced ulcer.

It odd for me to be this affected by stress but I suppose that not being able to exercise and being off the generic Prozac has a lot to do with that.

My health seems to be getting more and more complicated. My stomach hasn’t reduced in size since the treatment for E. Coli. In fact it seems to be holding steady at around 6 inches of what appears to be permanent bloat.

Some of the diseases being thrown around to explain my complicated health situation include connective tissue disease and a blood related disorder. There’s still the fact that I need to see a therapist to deal with my depression and dissociative episodes since antidepressants and anti psychotics have failed miserably.

Right now I’m feeling more than a little useless and so very lost. I think I’ll buy a kindle so I can escape. I’m probably very close to my limit for dealing with these things gracefully.

I wish I knew which problem to focus on first.

I realized that while my depression leaves me numb to my own pleasures, I’m easily affected by the plights of others. Which is a pathetic situation to be in since my depression all but guarantees that I won’t be able to help.

I’m still doing the best I can. It’s an excruciatingly slow process and I want to give up so often but then I think of the people I love and get the energy to keep going.

I suspect that the way my health is going, its too much to hope for a long life with my darling but maybe I can do something lasting for those I leave behind.

Living with the spectre of abuse

Living with the spectre of abuse

One of the things I find myself struggling with is the damage my family did to my self identity. I thought that with one parent dead, cutting off contact with my mother and brother would close the door on those dark times and yet I’m haunted by the things they did to me. It colours everything that I try to do. I always hear their voices in my head taunting me whenever I find something I think may be worthwhile. I believe this is what drives my compulsion to help others.

I did see a psychiatrist early on but he was of the Freudian set and they don’t recognize victims of sexual abuse particularly if the abuser was a family member. So I ended up being verbally abused by the person who was supposed to help me cope with abuse. Not to mention the damage that the abuse coming to light did to our family myth. My family could no longer pretend that nothing was wrong and that we  were perfect. As the one who destroyed that illusion, I bore the brunt of the blame for the situation. I know that it was not my fault and that their failure to protect me was theirs alone to deal with but it still took years for me to accept that my family would never change. I desperately wanted them to love me and take responsibility for the mess they had made of my mental health but they couldn’t and I was just torturing myself.

Intellectually, I understand some of my mental issues but my emotional state is volatile. I simply don’t know how to get myself to internalize positive and factual messages about myself. I know that if I can’t do that I won’t be able to move on. I am tired of living like this and I want to seek help, but how does on learn to trust again? How can I trust a psychiatrist to help me destroy my demons if my first meeting with one destroyed what little was left of me?


CC Image by PCT

Thought’s on social media.

The way I see it, the only probable way to control who has access to your information is to probably host your own little home on the web. Privacy issues never bothered me much since I bone up on the changes to the TOS of the social networking sites that I use. If I don’t like the terms I don’t sign up, and I pay attention to revisions to said terms in case they introduce a clause that I don’t like. That isn’t a fool proof method because as you’ve all probably noticed by now Facebook’s management just loves to twist the wording of said TOS. Like this nasty psychological experiment they ran a while back. Mind you there was no mention of them possibly doing this in said TOS or the revisions up til that point. I’m sure there is by now but I’ve honestly stopped caring.

There is a new service called ello that seems to be a step in the right direction but it’s currently in beta so for those of you who like that sort of thing it might be useful to check it out. As for me this is the platform that I prefer. Though I occasionally check in with my friends on Facebook and Google + since I’m mostly confined to my home, so I find it quite useful for keeping up with distant friends. Of the two I’d say I prefer Google + but to be honest I haven’t got the energy to keep up with either one. Most of my communication goes through KIK or What’s app. The people I don’t talk to there I check in once or twice a week to keep in touch.

I’m not surprised with the controversy because since the time I joined back in 2006 it’s been a cycle of never-ending bullshit on the Facebook front. A cycle that somehow seems to end every time with the users going “EH! Screw you Mark!” and then getting used to it. And they took advantage of that tendency by taking more liberties every time they made changes until we arrived here.

On being left behind.

Thanks to becoming ill, I ended up developing a fear of being left behind. The reason being my friends abandoned me when it was no longer convenient to be with me.

Sometimes there was no warning just a silence that stretched longer and longer until I figured it out. Other times they told me they couldn’t bear to see me like that so they couldn’t support me anymore. Some of them thought I was faking it. Those people utterly disgusted me. I was ashamed that I had associated myself with them. After all how could you claim to be my friend and know so little about my personality? I figured I was simply receiving punishment for the many masks I wore to interact with people.

It was absurdly upsetting. Especially when the one person I exposed my true self to betrayed me at the worst possible time. Thinking back on it, I’m surprised that I survived that one considering the level of depression I was living with at that time.

There are so many things I want to do but can’t. I love seeing people progress but the jealously is killing me. My hubby is doing really well now and I’m incredibly happy that he’s pursuing his dreams. I offer him advice when needed because I’m good at seeing thing objectively.

But even though I love him so much, I still get jealous and scared. Mostly because I’m no longer the capable woman he fell in love with. I’m still relatively intelligent and interested in a variety of subjects so that part of me is still the same. But as I help him grow so does my insecurity.

I’m beginning to wonder if I should seek counselling or get a new prescription for antidepressants. I think that’s the hardest part about chronic illnesses. That ridiculous depression. I still haven’t found the right prescription to manage my chemical depression so it pretty hard some days. And the constant pains don’t help one bit. 

I had a lucky escape today. Got an awful leg spasm while I was walking on the main road.

Luckily I managed to grab a sign post which was a happy surprise since I’m generally about as coordinated as a newborn deer.

I’ve got pains where my hand slammed into the post and the leg that was wrenched as it spasmed.
Contemplating going to the ER but they never take me seriously because I have a chronic illness. Its seriously frustrating.