Picture This (night of 2/21/2010)

Try to imagine yourself at 26 years old; working, partying, traveling (etc.) long story short- (be prepared you will be eventually getting the whole story- can't say I didn't warn you)... And on a semi-predictable night with your current project (a.k.a. friend in need of guidance); only something's not right.  There's a echo you are currently trying to ignore telling you that you should have stayed home.  You take your second baby hit (insert assumption about a 'hit of what' here) decide that getting wasted is not on the agenda and decide to pass, now you're trying to figure out if you wanna go home or... when you get a pinpoint blast of INTENSE pain and instantly hear your most courageous self murmur "FUUUUUUUCK! Should have listened to that gut feeling, this shit's not right."  Your last man on defense, your ace in the hole is now panicking.  The Macguyver part of your psyche has been beaten.  But with no health insurance, a highly ranked PO for a father, a relationship still mending with your mother, and having just started back to school again you instinctively know that from this moment nothing will ever be the same....
Fearing high hospital bills you wait to go to the hospital trying to tell yourself that this is nothing serious.  You've had migraines since you were seven and while you know that's not what this is you justify the cavalier facade because you are no stranger to excruciating head pains.  You now notice (belatedly) that you've been in pain for about a half hour and are now DRIPPING sweat as though you went running through the Sahara for your life while being 50 lbs overweight.  But you're not, you are sitting in a climate controlled environment trying to convince yourself that you are fine, head hurting so bad it's bringing tears to your eyes and you are now drenched in your own unearned sweat.
As the hours go by you loose all sense of your left side without realizing it.  Attempting to cap a water bottle while holding the cap in one hand and bottle in the other proves to be life's greatest mystery; you know that they go together that it SHOULD be a no brainer but you are now just sitting staring at the objects in each hand.  In the time you were trying to figure out how to cap the bottle you lost the knowledge of what you were trying to do and why, now you sit staring at the cap and bottle and are not quite sure why you can't remember what they are, what they do, and how to get rid of them.  You look up to explain your quandary only to find that you have to comically over enunciate ev-er-y-th-in-g in order to make somewhat recognizable  sounds or grumlings.  The cap has now falllen out of your left hand but you can't feel it, see it or process that there is anything there. You know that you should get up and try to shake off whatever 'this' is but now standing is life's ultimate wonder.  However did you do that before? Now it hits, this is serious you need help.
Thinking you may just be lucky enough to sleep it better I took a nap and when I (miraculously-according to medical professionals) woke up attempted to stand up and fell face first "TIMMMBEERRR"epic fall and crack the upper right side of my head on the corner of the coffee table.  At this point my friends weren't fucking around listening to me anymore, they carried me to the car, held me up when the put me in and buckled me up.  Not conscious by the time we go.....
I got to the hospital to find that I had been suffering a stroke for the past eight to nine hours, and now could possibly die from it.  It took two days for me to stabilize enough for brain surgery in which they drained 200ml of blood and repaired surface damage to my brain, not being able to get to the ruptured blood vessel (it was so far in,attempting to stop it would've caused more damage than leaving it active).
 A malformed blood vessel in the right hemisphere of my brain had burst and in a blink of an eye I had become a 26 year old stroke survivor.  It turns out that I had always had a weak blood vessel in my brain that we never knew about and after a lifetime of 'poking the bear', it bit back.  While there was not enough toxin in my system to have realistically caused the stroke it definitely did not help, and now my life and myself have been irrevocably changed and this is my journey....

October 23rd 2010

I'm glad that after 8+ months I still find it "funny-haha" that my left hand more often than not reminds me of that damn claw machine that NEVER grabs the prize you were aiming for.  At least I don't have to pay $1 each time I try to use it! Occupational therapy would suck and I would be seriously BROKE.  I think that Natalie Portmans character, Sam in 'Garden State' said it best with:
"...what do you do? You laugh. I'm not saying I don't cry but in between I laugh and I realize how silly it is to take anything too seriously. Plus, I look forward to a good cry. It feels pretty good."

October 19th 2010

I feel different. It's like I'm six again and everything is detrimental; all those coping mechanisms you develop over the years (from unfair shit you justified as 'learning experiences') get washed away like blue prints on a fucking Etch-A-Sketch.  Bullshit.  I thought I was finally starting to implement a few of those (heehee).
On the bright side though I am learning some pretty important new lessons.  And I didn't loose ALL the old ones... Just a few of the whoppers! Some that could prove vital for some of the people that mean the most to me.  Well, more succinctly my dealings with them.  Bittersweet but considerable book material.
I wish I wasn't soo damned needy though.  I try to squash the feelings of loneliness and concentrate on the positives of more contemplative time but it doesn't quite stick... not yet anyway.

November 5th 2010

People write me off as emotional, hormonal or brain damaged; which I am. No argument but I am not merely being sentimental....
One of the paramount lessons I have learned since February is that it is VITAL that those who have a place in your heart know it, and know exactly what their role is.  People generally cooperate but you have to let them see your script.

3/7 starting from now...

Been a while since I last attempted this, apparently I'm ready to open the flood gates. It's officially been over a year since my stroke and things are definitely... bittersweet.  My hair is electric red (probably not the best choice), I walk with a cane am about and am about 4 sizes over what I'd like to be.  Not quite what I envisioned for the 2nd half of my 27th year.

What can you do though?  Make the best of it and love the life you have.  That's all.  Anything else is counterproductive.  Obviously channeling Pollyanna right now, oh well lets just go with this shall we?  I'm at least FINALLY slowly albeit, but finally headed in the right direction.  I allow for small or minor detours because the detours are where the more profound lessons lie.

On the personal front I find myself having to firmly decide to be accepting and appreciative of the 'new' facets of myself that I am discovering.  I was not ever this trepidations.  That's not entirely correct, I just did not let it hinder me before.  I do need to get that back; that "scared?...do it scared" mentality that dominated my psyche before.  I know I've still got it somewhere in me, I've just got to find it again... the race is on!  

long road...

On my good days I channel Pollyanna utterly grateful for my world and everyone/part in/of it.  I take this stroke, my brain damage, the physical handicaps as learning lessons and great blessings that I can work to try to earn as much of my life, myself as possible.  I do honestly see things that way, feel that way but on days like today the gratefulness wars with weariness...

There is an amazingly humbling amount of people wanting to help, encourage and watch my journey cause it inspires and as grateful as I am for all the love and support I am still utterly alone in this.  No one knows what it's like to constantly try to hide or make light of all my shortcomings, handicaps or challenges.  You see that I found my words again but you have no idea the difficulty I have using them correctly, effectively and processing the words you throw at me.  You see that I can still perform elementary math (most times) but have no idea that unless you tell me what function to perform I might as well have never seen a number before.  I did not lose knowledge I just lost my problem solving, information processing and abstract thinking tools.  It's like having all your money in a CD or IRA that you may NEVER be able to access.

I know that I don't have it in me to give up but it's terrifying to know that 80% of what I get back is a direct result of my work, dedication, and will to recover but the remaining 20 is up to nature, God, fate, the universe... not me. So as a defense mechanism I try to put on a 'recovered' face show only the strengths and none of the weaknesses (as much as possible) but it's bittersweet while people are less inclined to talk to me like a Make-A-Wish case that drools and has no real communication skills they also tend to expect more than I can deliver. My fault utterly and completely but for me it's a matter of pride and choosing the lesser of two evils.  It just makes for a terrifyingly long solo journey. No one else can get me better, no one else can find my shortcomings and ways to heal them, no one else knows how it feels to have completely lost yourself, your identity to this event.

I used to bemoan the fact that I was always "just Chis" but now what I would give to be just plain old, one of the guys Chis again.  I'm now either that young girl who had a stroke- poor thing, or I'm Chisa-did you know she had a stroke, or I'm the handicapped girl that's too much work to take out or take places.  I get it and I am grateful for those who are still around, still enjoy my company but is this really all I am now???

Recovering takes up all my days and most of my mental and emotional energy but I am so fucking tired of being defined by this my life, the way people see me but most importantly how I see myself is completely immersed in this.  And I am not even the same person on a base level, due to the location of my ruptured brain vessel the left hemisphere of my brain is now primary and overcompensating for my damaged right hemisphere... But being a right brained thinker for 26 years it's now as if I have stepped through the looking glass and turned around to view the room I was just in to find everything mirror-imaged, reversed.  It's not my vision that has been mirror imaged but my perspective I see and react to EVERYTHING differently than I would have before the stroke and even more trippy I know it, recognize it but don't know which reaction to trust... The current gut reactions, opinions and feelings or how I know I WOULD HAVE felt, done or thought as my pre-stroke self.  I guess ultimately I should be striving to reconcile and mesh the two halves to form a more complete version of myself.  I just hope that I have the stamina for it and that my loved ones, my support system have not all been drained soo much that I really do end up alone.

4/7/2008

it's absolutely infuriating to have members of your 'support system' breathing down your neck and disapointed in you cause "you're not better yet?", they're tired and have their own shit and I am an adult that should not have to be their responsibility but when I push myself too far too fast and hurt myself why are the FIRST people telling me not to rush, to take shit a day at a time the ones fucking tired of my situation?!? I didn't fucking ask you to be here, actually tried to distance myself from EVERYONE for this exact reason but what because you wanted to feel like a hero, wanted your praises sung you signed up.  YOU said you needed to be here that you weren't going anywhere no matter what, well I still give 110% ALL I HAVE to my recovery EVERYDAY so you tell me when the mysterious expiration date on your love, your patience, you high opinion of me was set for cause I'm confused.  I don't know if it was guilt 'cause you know beyond a shadow of a doubt I would do the same, no MORE everything I could for you if the situation was reversed (ooh ohhh and I HAVE) whatever the reason I am grateful but please stop looking down on me.  I may be brain damaged but I know patronizing, condescending, impatience and back stabbing still.  I am NOT that mentally challenged. I am doing my best I see that it's not enough for you but at this point there is NO WHERE for me to go, I have to ride this out and work through it, you're the dumb ass that insisted you be a part of this journey so I'm sorry you didn't think it through but what would you like me to do about it???

I can't rush this, I can't force my body, my brain to heal on my or your time-line if that was possible it'd be done by now.   I look at myself everyday and fight the vision of me as a failure a burden a blip on the radar of those who love me but I can't ignore the very reflection of that in your eyes when you look at me; ignore the tone in your voice when you 'talk' to me. I have been half a step away from 'resetting' this lifetime since the beginning and getting the feeling that I'm a burden or an unwelcome obligation does nothing to help squelch the urge.  Apparently I'm too contrary to give in, to give up but I sure let you make me feel like that would be the gracious thing of me... to just bow out gracefully and not bother anyone anymore.

4/10/2011

No matter how much i KNOW really know that we will not ever get more than we can handle it doesn't take away from the gratitude I have (yet can never fully express) once I get a little slack or when any of the weight is lifted.

But when so SOOOOOOO much of it is instantaneously removed homage MUST be paid; done happily and dutifully... thank you.

Baby Steps...

I remember being in the hospital and completely unaware that I had a non-functioning left side.  Nurses would ask constantly "where's you left hand?" and without fail I would answer with the location of my right, feeling like normal as though the only thing wrong was that my brain seemed to be a bit mushy
(like trying to navigate through a dense, murky fog).  Instead of the 'phantom limb' phenomenon that often plagues amputees  my subconcious defense mechanism was to block out the entire effected side making me think, feel and believe (until reminded) that my functioning right half was a complete body. 

Once I got to acute rehab and in a wheelchair and days full of occupational, speech and physical therapy (think of it as a recovery boot-camp) I often forgot my left hand and with no sensation did not even realize it was there until it knocked over something, got trapped under me or stuck and crunched in the spokes of my wheelchair.  My therapists went as far as to equip me with a lap tray attached to my wheelchair and tape a rolled up towel to the top of it that I was to rest my endangered limb on to help.  Sadly enough while attempting to navigate or think of something other than my new task of maintaining eye contact with poor lefty I would often hear shouts in passing "where's your hand Chis?", "I can't see lefty so I KNOW you can't"; or just have a perceptive passerby pick up my arm themselves and take it out of harms way.  Thank you.

Now a little over a year into my recovery I still sporadically need the use of my wheelchair and while I no longer need the lap tray or forget about my still struggling appendages I attempted to man my wheelchair using both my hands instead of propelling with my right hand and steering with my right foot; not ready for that AT ALL. lol, While I have some sensation back in my left side it is no where near 100% and without staring at my hand to make sure each grab and push was executed  safely it is still more likely that I'll just get my hand crunched in the spokes of my damned wheelchair. True story. Last week I went to Trader Joe's with my mom and due to an uncooperative knee needed to use my wheelchair for the expedition. And this was when I decided to see if I could work my left hand and arm while my lower half was sulking and the only difference between then and now is that when my hand gets stuck in my wheelchair I now feel the damage I am unconsciously causing. It was hilarious, hand caught, wheelchair not moving because of the stuck digits and me hysterically laughing while simultaneously howling in pain; and my 4'10" Filipino mother scrambling trying to help while also valiantly attempting yet beautifully failing at trying not to laugh.  Needless to say we put on quite a show and I maintain my belief that, that alone was the reason why the staff and customers alike were soo friendly and proactive in assisting us during that particular excursion.

Now I could let myself get discouraged because after a year I still cannot do something as simple as utilize a wheelchair the way it's traditionally designed to be used but that's exhausting and counter productive, so instead I embrace the laughter, appreciate the hilarity of the moment of discovery and recognize the baby steps I am still making.

Bad Day

Here I am about to be 28 needing to move out because the obligations that come with having me here have become too much for the friend first in line to help out.  I now am blessed to have two sets of friends willing to let me move in one offers as long as I need (but I know there will be an eventual expiration date) and the others aren't looking to stay where they are through the upcoming winter... the biggest consideration I need to contemplate is being solely dependent on one couple or being dependent on another while still having my mom 20 minutes away for another few months, either way I'm dependent on EVERYONE else, they can still get, and understandably so, tired of meeting my needs.
I was compulsively independent for 26 years and now.... now I am humbled, blessed, grateful and... done. I'm fuckin done being the white elephant in the room everyone avoids talking about I cannot will not do this, alienate anymore loved ones.  Being a young stroke survivor, telling my story, SURVIVING is not fucking worth it if at the end of EVERY SINGLE DAY at my heart of hearts I have to feel worthless, indebted, like a plague or unnecessary expense.  What's the use? Who benefits? NO ONE. The number of those concerned loved ones will continue to dwindle,  so who am I suffering for? Why post pone the inevitable?  Why did I get through that? So I can die alone having exasperated the patience, stores of love and sheer energy of everyone I hold dear? You can say all you want that anyone worth having in my life won't mind, but at the end of the day everyone has a limit. Obligations get old it's human nature... it's inevitable. Lots of things are.

trying my best

It comes in waves; the manic productivity, the Pollyanna- nothing can break my smile and now the crushing loneliness.   I have an amazing set of friends that want to joke me out of this part of the cycle and if we catch it in the beginning it works, but not now not when I'm soo far into it that for the past week it has taken EVERYTHING in me to get up and feed my cat, get myself clean before and after the gym and concentrate on my workout  (the one productive thing that this suffocating fear, despair will let up enough for me to attempt).  They want to help but how do you tell them that being around a bunch of people that want to make it better so much it forces you to fake it just makes it worse?  No one understands this, I don't expect you to but the only thing right now that won't make me feel MORE alone is not surrounding myself with well meaning friends who have their counterparts within arms reach; it is that one man who can hold me and say I don't know if things are gonna be okay, I don't know if you'll gt back to 100% again but I will love you now and to the end no matter if this is as good as you get.  Short of that I pull myself out the only way I know how... sheer determination.

It's been a year I know the cycles, I have tried letting my friends try to help and it took all my strength not to hit the 'reset' button on this lifetime so I know that I have to let myself feel this ride most of it out so I'm actually dealing with the good and bad of this seemingly never ending experience but I also know when to grit my teeth and RIP myself out of it, painful as it always is.   But it's been a week, a week in which 3 clean loads of laundry occupy the empty 2/3 of my bed that he won't.  A week that I have panted my way through daily grueling workouts trying to punish myself more than the loneliness more than my heartache does so maybe I can feel something else at the forefront of the pack.  A week that my cat has not left my side because she knows somethings up, a week that the only time- literally the only time I can get out of bed is to punish myself at the gym then when I get home after my shower I get directly the fuck back in bed next to my clean laundry that I can't seem to muster the energy up to put away.

The funny fuckin thing... I'm not feeling sorry for myself, I don't begrudge this chapter even now while I try to find a way out of the belly of the beast, I'm just tired, so fuckin tired of every single thing being too exhausting, so draining. I know I will pull out of this, I know I have to pull myself out of it, I know that I will but this is me; right now trying my best from the belly of the beast, the pit of despair suffocating from loneliness attempting to refill my stores of energy, patience, resilience, and optimism so the cycle can start over again...

new focus

I've been working my left leg like a psychotic drill Sgt attempting to be able to permanently park the wheelchair, ditch the brace, burn the expensively hideous handi-cap moon shoes (stabilizing shoes four sizes too large to accommodate said brace complete with Velcro straps) and give my aunty my cane.  I have realized that in focusing so completely on my leg I have let my left hand fend for itself so it still very much so resembles the claw machine.  I am not even comfortable petting my cat with the impaired hand cause I can't feel her or feel how hard I'm actually petting her... not a good combination.


I want to be able to pick up my niece again, carry things reliably with both my hands and most importantly give a PROPER hand job again, not the lazy might as well be giving head, one handed half assed hand job; the kind that men actually appreciate.  Not that there's an immediate demand for that particular skill but I liked having that under my belt, in my arsenal... I take pride in my work, lol.

how do i?

How do i know i will continue to get better? How do i know that i won't alienate the support system i have left? how do i continue to be this woman,this shell of my former self? How do i merge who i was, who i am and who i want to be? How do i get my emotions under control? How do i keep my head held high when i look, move and sound LIKE THIS? How do i continue to build self-confidence when there's sooo fuckin little to be confident about? How do i continue to give you me heart when i'm so unsure of where i fit in yours? How do i trust that you love me this much when you are so far out of my league? How do i know you miss me when you are never here? How do i keep away when you have my whole heart in your strong hands? How do i give you what you want or need when this is all that i am? How do i even begin to reach for your heart when i know you can do so much better than me? How do i continue to work through or try to ignore the suffocating loneliness? How do i continue? How do i continue this terrifying, exhausting journey alone? How do i continue? How do i continue to pick myself up during every down spiral and claw my way back to positivity? How do i continue?  How do i continue and pretend that i know it will get better? How do i continue? How do i continue to trust in His plan? How do i continue? How do i continue to believe that this time i really haven't been given more than i can handle, that He hasn't overestimated me? How do i continue? How????

boundaries

Since the stroke I have HAD to curb my 'captain save a ho' tendencies and focus all of that positivity and resourcefulness on myself ; something I almost never did before.  It's now drilled home that no one else can get better for me, and no one else knows exactly what I'm going through so myself and my rehabilitation HAVE TO come first.

With that also comes another first... boundaries, I have to make them clear or I am the only one suffering. They are everywhere and I can no longer afford to ignore them, not to mention I no longer have the inclination or patience to curb them.  I mean from my space bubble to my feelings and over to my needs.  It boils down to safety for me... everything is on an extremely delicate balance.  Things I need really need are the only things I ask from others and that need stems from either a emotional, mental, or physical safety issue so when I get ignored, forgotten or judged upon those needs I no longer retreat back into myself unwilling to inconvenience anyon,e I have to now tactfully assert myself (no easy feat since I no longer have a damn filter either).  This was all very uncomfortable for a long time and still is (in my more sensitive moments) but if I have to then I REALLY have to now and I must say that I'm becoming very proud of that.  I'll no longer be a doormat to feel loved and appreciated, I still am.  And now that I really have to ask for help (as hard as it is) I am no longer too proud to do so. 

I'll admit that I still wait as long as possible to ask for said assistance more often than not compounding the problem(s) attempting to figure out a way to get it done solo but I can now admit when help is vital and proactively seek it... damn 'growing pains'.

life has no pause button...

It's another hard day, one that started out hopeful enough I woke up struggled to make the decision I have to every day; to be happy, to be grateful and fight.  I went through my exercises, played my brain games then get hit with IRS owing from 2003, an expired extension and battles with medi-cal.  I go through the motions, communicating my current situation and my difficulties and form plans of action- all of which involve me depending on others for transportation, form help for my damaged brain and being treated like a lower life form.

I already feel worthless, going through each day fighting to get better and stay positive enough not to end this journey so I  can tell my story and hopefully one day have someone stumble upon this blog and by reading my heart and thoughts feel less alone. I arrogantly assumed that getting better was to be the hardest part for me , but I forgot that life has no fucking pause button.  The universe does not wait for you to catch up, things still pile on and the past is still waiting for resolution. I am completely overwhelmed and overburdening my innocent loved ones... but for how much longer? My stamina is rapidly fraying, I feel hollowed out, completely depleted and yet still expected to, still attempting to pull my weight, somehow reciprocate what  I can to those who continue to stand by me and try not to expect anything in return.

But I am the only one on my journey, I am the only on that can make me better, I hold the key to my happiness I have the tools I just have to find then again but when does enough get to be enough?  How much punishment does on endure before things start to look up?  How many obstacles must I scale before the tide starts to turn and I can clear away some of the worries to do what I need to in order to fully recover? Will I ever fully recover? If I am destined to remain lonely in the midst of dozens of distracted, half-assed, well meaning, patience expiring loved ones I might as well quit while I still have that.  Too bad I've never been a fucking quitter and I don't fucking have it in me to disappoint the ones who have rallied for me, I'm stubborn enough to suffer this and try to prove the nay-sayers wrong.  I just don't know if what I have left will ultimately be enough.

I've had 26 years of life prior to this, filled with sexual abuse, mental abuse, abandonment, struggling to remain independent, working for everything I have done and acquired, becoming the best in challenging jobs, rising up in the face of adversity, heartbreak and enough mistakes for three people... They say the what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, I don't feel stronger right now I feel tired, old, vulnerable, damaged and fragile.

5/30 4:14pm...

Just got home from the bay fed Joy, cleaned her litter box, stripped down and grabbed my computer so I could get this down while it's fresh...

One thing my most recent speech therapist/ friend Marty said to me really hit home yesterday.   I was talking, emotionally purging, and having much needed time with Shmo when I found myself outlining my cognitive difficulties for her.  To me they seem obvious; when you suffer a trauma the world including yourself looks different to you, TO YOU... the rest of the world will not see the scenery the way you do, but they may not even notice certain differences in you.  Marty told me that my greatest strength will be my Achilles heel; my ability to compensate- or more succinctly- my need to camouflage my deficiencies will not only allow for better communication and an accelerated recovery but also distract from areas that still need attention... counter productive character trait at best.  But it suddenly dawned on me that Shmo has known, really known me for majority of my life and this applies even to her (dramatically less than with most people but still applicable) and it amazed me.

shit or get off the pot... 6/2/2011

I went all in and he folded... figures.  I can't even call him a dick or find fault; I had to go for it and he just doesn't feel the same way.  I'm not the one for him, not enough to risk a relationship, hurt feelings or bruised pride.  Serves me right I guess for hoping that my best friend would miraculously be the love of my life.  I wonder how long it'll take me to get my heart back? How much longer will I be in love with a man who no doubt loves me but is not IN love with me?  And why fight me leaving all those times if ultimately you weren't gonna choose me? I don't want to believe it was a game, the thrill of the chase but if it was you won, you got me and at my most vulnerable I stupidly gave you the power to throw me away.  When it fully hits and I'm in the darkest hour of my mourning this lost dream I'll no doubt wonder if it's because I'm impaired now but in my heart of hearts I know it's not; without the walls I had spent 26 years subconsciously building I simply could no longer hold back my feelings, my love and my wants/needs.  So for the first time instead of just enjoying him, taking the easy chicken shit- no acknowledgment of my actual feelings way out- I stepped up tortured us both and put it all out there.  At least I know now that I can, get rejected, and still know that I have to go on, get better, that life goes on and I've faced worse.

6/2/2011

On Monday I went in for a psych eval ordered by social security and long term disability to help them determine my eligibility.  The psychiatrist asked me curt yes or no questions that I feel were somewhat unfair then ran me through a gamut of  cognitive tests remarkably similar to the ones from the hospital and rehab, I expected to breeze through them when we started assuming it had been over a year and I should have made tons of gains... not even. It was humbling and terrifying and I left feeling embarrassed, dejected, and emotionally/mentally bruised. FUCK!!!!!!! I'm trying not to spiral but I feel I'm losing the war fast.

life has no pause button...

It's another hard day, one that started out hopeful enough I woke up struggled to make the decision I have to every day; to be happy, to be grateful and fight.  I went through my exercises, played my brain games then get hit with IRS owing from 2003, an expired extension and battles with medi-cal.  I go through the motions, communicating my current situation and my difficulties and form plans of action- all of which involve me depending on others for transportation, form help for my damaged brain and being treated like a lower life form.

I already feel worthless, going through each day fighting to get better and stay positive enough not to end this journey so I  can tell my story and hopefully one day have someone stumble upon this blog and by reading my heart and thoughts feel less alone. I arrogantly assumed that getting better was to be the hardest part for me , but I forgot that life has no fucking pause button.  The universe does not wait for you to catch up, things still pile on and the past is still waiting for resolution. I am completely overwhelmed and overburdening my innocent loved ones... but for how much longer? My stamina is rapidly fraying, I feel hollowed out, completely depleted and yet still expected to, still attempting to pull my weight, somehow reciprocate what  I can to those who continue to stand by me and try not to expect anything in return.

But I am the only one on my journey, I am the only on that can make me better, I hold the key to my happiness I have the tools I just have to find then again but when does enough get to be enough?  How much punishment does on endure before things start to look up?  How many obstacles must I scale before the tide starts to turn and I can clear away some of the worries to do what I need to in order to fully recover? Will I ever fully recover? If I am destined to remain lonely in the midst of dozens of distracted, half-assed, well meaning, patience expiring loved ones I might as well quit while I still have that.  Too bad I've never been a fucking quitter and I don't fucking have it in me to disappoint the ones who have rallied for me, I'm stubborn enough to suffer this and try to prove the nay-sayers wrong.  I just don't know if what I have left will ultimately be enough.

I've had 26 years of life prior to this, filled with " what doesn't kill you makes you stronger", well, I don't feel stronger right now I feel tired, old, vulnerable, damaged and fragile.

thankful...

 thank you for finally giving me the answers I needed to hear and lettin' me go. I promise to try not to begrudge you the pain for too long.  Thank you to the rest for the support and objective compassion offered.  I am honestly blessed.