Eight
Some nights I sit down at the computer with a pretty good idea what I want to write about. And many of those nights, like tonight, I hesitate. I realize that after a while, this blog starts to read like a soap opera, or a big fat drama festival. I know that it is sometimes a chore to read.
This is sort of how I feel in life too. Like I’m crossing the threshold from being a daughter, wife, sister, friend, etc, to being a burden. Some days I wonder if I’m contributing much besides trouble and tragedy. And often I think the answer is no.
But even when I put on a happy face, or choose to write a light-hearted blog post instead of a harder one that’s rolling around in my mind, I don’t stop living this tragedy. This drama festival.
Tomorrow will mark 8 months since my head started hurting. Each month, each silly milestone, shocks me a little. I’ve lost two-thirds of this year to pain and unlike last month, there’s no end in sight. There’s no treatment shining ahead. There’s no hope this month, this milestone.
Instead, there’s a sense of seriousness. A sense of permanence.
This is my life.
I’ve found myself concerned lately with what this new reality means for my family, for my friends, for my relationships with those people. It’s one thing to have a friend who is temporarily ill or in pain. It’s not easier, that’s not what I’m saying at all, because I don’t think that’s how pain and sickness work, but there’s an end to most conditions. If you wait it out, things usually normalize. It seems like it’s becoming obvious that this isn’t normalizing. Or rather, it is, but this headache is now the norm.
I’ve always been one of those people who said that if people walk away from your life then they weren’t meant to be in it in the first place, but at no point had I wondered if maybe it’s the other way. Maybe if you can walk away from someone, they aren’t worth staying for. That maybe it’s not really them, maybe it’s me.
With all these new worries are the normal ones. The worries about school, about holding down a job in the future. It just seems like as much as I want things to get easier and want life to become less complicated, the less it actually works that way.
What I want more than anything is a break. I’m tired in every way. I’m not sleeping well again, which has made all the little things seem so much bigger. I’m tired of fighting all the time. I’m tired of feeling hopeless. I’m tired of pain. It’s not like I just need a nap in the afternoon and everything will be better, it’s like I need a nap from my life.
But that’s clearly not an option, so I continue to fight and move forward in spite of my fatigue.
I have managed for 8 months, and though it seems harder every day, I’ll continue to find a way. I am discouraged, sad, and tired. But I’m not defeated.
Not yet. Not this month.
7 Responses to “Eight”
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Welcome! I'm Katie, a 28 year old, full-time graduate student who just happened to have brain surgery in November of 2007 to give my ginormous brain a little more space. This blog chronicles my daily life, from relentless headaches to being a doctor's wife. Sit down, get comfortable and stay for a while.
so sorry. i know that people *not* living with pain can’t really understand it. holding you in my thoughts.
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hooray for not being defeated! s
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You have friends that are chronically ill, chronically in pain and you know it’s not the end of the world. The grief when you realize it is what it is can really suck, but eventually you learn to deal.
I hope for your sake that you aren’t chronic, but if you are you will find a way to deal with the new worries that you face.
I wish you could have a break, but unless you lower your expectations of yourself it isn’t going to happen.
Take care.
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You go ahead and keep using this blog as an outlet to vent your frustration, sadness and pain. You need to get all these emotions and thoughts off your chest. If people don’t want to read it and empathize or sympathize then they can just go elsewhere – easy. Having said that I DO NOT like reading that you are still suffering. It truly sux.
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Katie, 8 mos of constant pain is alot; especially going to school full time. When my migraines became Chronic my life became way harder. Life is harder with daily pain. The pain wears you down. It takes a toll. There’s no denying it. But we are still a value to our friends and family. I don’t think anyone considers you a burden. If anything you are a very strong and special person and I am sure you are very much valued.
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Katie, I read your blog all the time, but I can’t even remember if I ever commented. (brain fog) While reading this, I had to stop twice so I wouldn’t start crying. It felt as if you had written this post just for me. I hate being sick and tired all the time. I hate that you are in pain and tired all the time. It’s bullshit that we have to live like this day after day. But we do, and we will continue, and we will not be defeated.
xoxomaureen
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Keep writing, no matter how dramatic it feels. It’s your blog. If someone doesn’t like it, they don’t have to read it.
Try not to think that it’s you who needs to be walked away from. You can’t help that you are in pain. Anyone who can’t have compassion and doesn’t want to stick around isn’t worth it. I feel this way a lot, too, but we just have to keep reminding ourselves that the people who are worth knowing will stick around.
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