Is it really worth all the damn effort to keep me alive?
That's the dopamine depletion talking. And acetalcholine deficiency. And autoimmune disease. And all of the other things that are slowly degenerating my brain.
I don't ask that question often, but when I do, it consumes everything.
I am generally a very functional depressed person. I go through the motions, maybe with a slight background hope that being productive will make me feel useful. Worthy. But mostly I go through them numb. Even if they don't make me feel better, they are things that need doing.
Some of my health puzzle pieces are falling into place. And when I find pieces that fit, it gives me hope. Until I get a long stretch of no pieces. Just chaos. A 5000 piece puzzle and I've got a corner, a short edge, and a small blob or two in the middle. Sometimes I find a doctor that is curious and enthusiastic enough to sit down and try to piece a few together. But it seems that eventually they lose interest. I can't blame them. I do too.
I'm not sick enough to raise the alarm system of the western medical model. I don't trust many of their treatment methods anyway. I'm definitely sick enough to not be able to cure it on my own. It's a maddening limbo. I'm reliant on brilliant "alternative" practitioners that my insurance won't cover. I'm reliant on favors, and what little I can pay for, and piecemeal care. I'm forced to be my own advocate- which means I'm forced to rely on someone who often doesn't care, and cares far too much, and is too exhausted or anxious to even have a phone conversation much of the time. In the meantime, my symptoms come and go. Some days are good, and some bad. But find me on a bad day, and with tears jamming my throat, I'll tell you honestly- sometimes I wonder if it's worth all the damn effort.
This post is far too negative. I shouldn't even be writing it. But I'm nothing if not honest. Shoulds and shouldn'ts be damned, this is how it feels today.
Wednesday, November 9, 2016
I am an empath. I feel you. All of you. Buzzing in my head, aching in my chest. On a day like today when emotions are high, I can hardly contain it. You are angry, confused, happy, anxious, worried, saddened, hopeful, devastated, relieved, and tired. So tired. I woke up with the urge to write this morning and when I sat down to channel it, your wave of emotion sent me tumbling. No use. Too much. I'm sorry that you hurt so much. I want to come to each of you with a golden, shining bucket of joy and wash the pain away. It's not my place, and beyond my capabilities, but that doesn't stop my desire to relieve your tension. And after yelling at my kids when even their little voices overwhelmed my senses because I was filled to the brim with all of yours, I did the only thing that made sense. I ran it off. I went to my mountain trails and soaked in the last minutes of light as the sun sank below the horizon. I marveled so fully in the alpenglow on the mountains that I shouted out loud. I let go of all of the fear and worry for a few minutes to throw my arms wide and call to the sky. I found joy and love and gratitude. And for whatever it's worth, I sent it out to all of you. There is always hope amid your pain. This will all pass and we will take the future as it comes. You are so much! You are brilliant and adaptable, capable and kind. You are Hope. Never forget that. You are powerful. I can feel it.