Coping with ‘still’ being disowned

Family has to have a broader meaning or I wouldn’t survive. I put on a good front but what silently rips me apart everyday does so even more relentlessly at this time of year. So many of my fellow patients have also been disowned by members of their family, courtesy of neuro’ symptoms and the resulting accumulated misunderstandings. It’s a horrific ‘norm’ but I never thought my family would be that kind of normal. We were so close for so long. Two family members outright believe I’m some kind of opposite of me, one has never said what they think but hasn’t acknowledged any messages or even my basic existence since the others disowned me. One definitely knows I’m still me and I am blessed to have them in my life.

Family is those we care most about and who cares most about us. Some of those I care most about think bizarrely incorrect things of me which is a daily torture I struggle with. But the rest of the people in my life know who I am and their (your) mutually reciprocated love and care is what helps me to keep going. Thank you. For just being you. I love you being you.

Like many other patients I keep thinking that one day this nightmare will end. That those three members of my family will wake up one day and remember that I’m me but after, what is it now? Five or six years? I try really hard not to remember how long it’s been. After this long I have to find a way to let go of the need for that to happen whilst still keeping hope more generally. I have to find a way to stop the ‘why? wtf? how-is-this-even-possible? argh! I-can’t-cope-with-how-wrongly-they’ve-got-me’ going round and roouund my head each day.

Pain of confusing loss, broken heart

I live by distraction. It’s a chronic illness tool for survival which I try to apply to this kind of pain as well. Distraction is the only way I keep going in this regard but at this time of year when Magic Dude is at work and I can’t phone my Mum to wish her a happy Christmas because she’d hang up on me over stuff I don’t even understand, well, it’s a whole new level of hurt and confusion.

There’s aspects we hang on to in the hope that an answer will magically appear. In my case I’ll likely never find out what the confusing conversations were taken to mean. They were during my neuro’ downslide which was reducing my processing so swiftly that none of us stood a chance of finding out about that before it affected communications and interpretations. And why hang onto that? Even with the med’s that I have now I can’t read the explanatory email because my fight or flight still responds by trying to make me pass out. I actually tried to reply to that email in the beginning. We often try to deal with things as we would have pre-illness because we don’t realise at the time how cognitively compromised we can be. I made that mistake. I would read one paragraph then battle not to pass out and then, once I was vaguely upright again, I’d attempt a reply to that one paragraph without realising how severely my processing was being affected. It took me three months to write a reply because it took so many days to recuperate after reading each paragraph. You’d think I’d have cottoned on but I just thought it was the extreme distress causing it. I’d never been disowned before, but I’d never been so cognitively compromised before either.

To this day I have no idea what was in the email I received or the one I sent and as I can’t read either without getting severely symptomatic I have to accept that I am unlikely to ever know. And I think this is the issue for so many in this situation – we never get to resolve it, we never get to correct each other’s misunderstandings. It remains an open case. There’s no real understanding of how this came to be, it just happened one day out of the blue and that’s why we struggle to find a way forward. Because it’s not just the loss, it’s the fact that the loss seems so random and inexplicable. Being unaware of any comprehensible reasons for such an extreme life decision makes it a lot harder to accept and cope with. And that shock never seems to go away. Every day it slaps us in the face again. Having a faulty nervous system sucks.

One thing I do manage though is to hang onto what was. Before the inexplicable. Maybe that makes it harder in some ways but it definitely makes it easier to not implode entirely. I remember when Mum knew who I was. All those years, all that love, all those shared experiences – they are not erased and they’re not changed to fit with my new reality. They are a part of me and of my journey to who I am today. Admittedly who I am today was also massively impacted by being disowned but I do not have to let go of those good memories to deal with the confusing past few years. The good and the bad times are not mutually exclusive, they can co-exist Shroedinger style. Which can also be upsetting as the contrast is so extreme. But it forces me to look at the now. What I want from life in it’s current reality. And prodding me to keep focused on the present is no bad thing at all. That’s where life gets lived after all. I want to fill it with smiles and goodness.

So in each moment – what would help with the smiles thing? If I find I’m a bit stuck… planning housey stuff and sketching ideas (refocuses my mind to positive developing stuff), arty stuff (currently embroidering my first ever home-made curtains, they’re gonna be the prettiest bodge-job ever 😉 ), playing Lord of the Rings Online (it’s currently the Yuletide festival on there!), Facebook (connections with friends), online ‘window’ shopping (pretty stuff!), sometimes I can handle some music (maybe something enthusiastic like Florence and the Machine’s ‘Dog Days are Over’ or perhaps something beautifully chilled like Stevie Ray-Vaughan’s version of ‘Little Wing’ or delightfully nervous-system-calming like Ry Cooder’s ‘Dark is the Night’). What would your go-to list be? And would it be helpful to have that list up somewhere so that you can see it when your nervous system is raging or the thoughts are circling endlessly round and your cognition needs a helping hint?

This post was prompted by the first acknowledgement of my existence in aaaall this time by that one family member: today they removed me from an old message group. So I guess I finally have my answer on whether a) they wanted to have contact but felt caught in the middle, or b) it has been their choice to avoid me all these years. Maybe that’s helpful. I’m not sure yet. Maybe that’s one less question to drill into my soul each and every day.

I wanted to share my experience with my fellow patients so that you know that you are not alone. If you’re struggling with this kind of loss I want you to know that I ‘get it’ and I’m sending love and hugs. I am open about my loss, my distress, my confusion, my ongoing attempts to cope all these years later because this kind of stuff happens and I want you to be able to talk about it if you need to. It’s okay to talk about it. A common misnomer is that loss and grief get ‘better/easier with time’ whereas it’s really that we get better at coping with it. Of course it can be difficult to get better at coping when you’ve got a faulty nervous system that freaks out the moment that big-stuff-subject pops into your head. Hence that handy list of calming in-the-now stuff.

Getting my feelings down in writing also kind of helps. When this stuff begins to devour me I need to get it out somehow. The process naturally makes me re-assess my approach and behaviour which helps me think about what I need to work on next to better cope with the loss and confusion. There’s plenty of research on how writing can be helpful. If you need to talk and there’s no-one around at the time it’s another option to get those endlessly whirling thoughts out of your head. Maybe give it try. Poetry can be pretty cathartic so don’t be afraid of different types of writing. Write like no-one’s ever going to see it because no-one ever has to.

If this post makes you feel any better, any less alone, then hopefully you now know that it’s okay to feel how you feel. This is no easy or quick fix. We are complex beings even without the chronic neuro-illness complications. But it’s okay to feel and it might help to get some of those feelings out, whether that’s onto paper or with a trusted friend. You don’t have to bottle it up.

And if you know someone who is struggling with the impacts of chronic illness on their family attachments (or indeed struggling in any way). I want you to know that just by listening, by acknowledging, just by being you – you make a difference. There’s no need to encourage them to talk endlessly about things, (with conditions like mine that could actually rile up the nervous system even more), just being an ear and then being the much loved distraction that you are helps enormously.

Wishing you smiles and goodness,

Sending love to you all, xx

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Managing in a new home

Well, what a palaver moving home is when you are chronically ill eh?

It all started so many months ago with packing well in advance so that I could do a little bit each day during my paced daily activity. The pacing is such a crucial part of my pain management so I can’t go overdoing it as then I risk sending my nervous system back into it’s old amplifying ways. But then there’s all the viewings of potential houses, sometimes Magic Dude was at work and I had to drive myself to viewings and take pictures to show him. It all adds up and takes its toll. And it takes its toll for a long time afterwards. Trouble is it doesn’t stop there of course.

We tried to buy a place and had to pull out when we found out there were potential structural problems so we found ourselves back at square one again. Our buyer hung on (and on) (for months) and we eventually found another place, won the bid and then it took ages to actually get through all the paperwork and reach the incredibly stressful moving day. It was all so well organised by us to best manage my health issues but the handing over of the keys was out of our control. Our lovely removal guys were sat outside the new place for hoouurs waiting for us to call them and let them know that we’d finally been given the keys and were on our way. In the end it was so late in the day that they called in a couple of extra guys at no extra cost just to get unloaded in time. They were awesome. But yikes, what a day!

As I now have immune responses to loads of different things Magic Dude and I cracked on with my second paced activity of the day removing the bedroom carpet, under which was a layer of lino and under that was a layer of disintegrating black spongy stuff. It was a messy job so we wore facemasks and got on with filling up rubbish bags and cleaning the uncovered floorboards. Windows open to air it out. Mattress made up on the floor. Eeeeeevrything else shoved into the extension because we foolishly thought we’d be decorating everywhere pretty soon, haha. Silly us!

We have got loads done, though.

First things first… the health stuff:

New boiler because I need to be warm to help manage my pain levels.
– we were lucky to get a government grant via a local environmental charity and after taking some info'(including Magic Dude’s income) we were awarded an additional grant from one of the charity’s other schemes as well. The government ‘Green Deal’ has finished now but it’s always worth checking with any local teams or charities to see what’s available as they receive grants from elsewhere too. Your local council should know who in the area you could contact to ask about this stuff.

Boiler

Loft and wall cavity insulation for the same reason. If I’m not warm I’m in more pain. Simple as.
– we had the work done by energy company EDF as per advice from our local environment team. Many energy companies in the UK offer schemes like this but EDF are unusual in that they are the only one currently offering this service to disabled people who used to work. If you receive contribution-based disability benefits you are not included in many schemes available. Purportedly this is because contributions based disability ESA (for those of us who happened to have been able to work at some point in the past) is more than the income based version but for me personally the addition of about £3 doesn’t make enough of a difference for this to make sense. Yes, I know, whether we used to be more ‘able’ makes no difference to our current state of disability or the help we need now, but hey, the rules are created by non-disabled people and they are politicians who don’t get stuff. What can I say?!

Both these schemes for the boiler and the insulation were brilliant. I am so truly thankful for their assistance I have no words to describe it.

Security.
– also recommended to us by our local environment team was a charity called the Blue Lamp Trust which covers England & Wales. It’s a security charity of which many employees are ex-policeman and so they really know their stuff. They help a lot of domestic violence victims as well as disabled and elderly folk. I’m home alone and non-functional most of the time so I had highlighted a security concern and said I’d appreciate some input and advice. What I actually got was lots of really good security advice on all fronts and even more than that… including two new smoke alarms, a door chain, a door bolt, three different planned fire routes for us to get out in the event of a fire, tips on how to handle cold callers (in person and on the phone), he would have given us a carbon monoxide detector as well if we hadn’t have already gone and bought one, and even some tips for avoiding identity theft. In addition to all that he was an absolutely lovely chap who used to police our area so knew it really well and he didn’t even complain when I made him a bad cup of tea!

Blue Lamp Trust

So (for England and Wales) if you’re one of my fellow disabled or if you know anyone vulnerable (including victims of domestic violence) who would like to feel safer at home I can recommend contacting the Blue Lamp Trust through their Bobby Scheme.

Other than that it’s been typical do-er upper work!

We bought a place with the space I needed as I’m stuck at home unable to work. At the old house we had no space so if I wanted to try to do anything I lost most of my activity time to setting things up and then putting them all away again so I couldn’t actually get much done in between at all. Now we have more space so I can (eventually – once we get the boxes unpacked) set things up then just leave it where it is for next time. Reducing my set-up/put-away time and increasing my quality of life. Hurrah!

To get that space we had to get a do-er upper though. Houses ready to live in were too small and houses with space were in need of er, most things! So we bought a place that was well under our budget so we’d have some money to get it liveable, but we still couldn’t have done this without the help of the crucial grants. Thanks to the grants covering the boiler and insulation we had the money to get the dangerous old 1950s rubber wiring replaced throughout, get the two-level floor (with a steep ramp between the two where a wall had once been removed) amended to one level to stop me from tripping over it when I’m struggling with symptoms and a new kitchen (because we had to rip the very old one out to get the floor levelled).

Ta-dah! Money gone! So now we’re on to good old fashioned home DIY (‘Do It Yourself’).

Gosh I’d love to sleep in a bed! And have somewhere to put my clothes. And not have eeeeeverything re-covered in dust each day! But we’re getting there. Albeit slowly.

Cooking in kitchen

Our kitchen after the floor had been levelled

It’s been nearly four months since we moved in. It’s great to no longer be cooking on the camping stove and I’m chuffed to not have to wash the dishes in the bath any more although I am still washing my hair in the kitchen sink when I can stand up long enough! The shed now has a roof (storage space to reduce the amount of crap in the house!) and we’ve re-purposed the old kitchen units to go in there. I’m pretty chuffed with how that plan came together. Poor Magic Dude was so terribly down about living in such a building site so I arranged a surprise for him – his bestest mate and my lovely bruv came round one day whilst he was at work and we sorted out most of the shed roof. I say ‘we’, but that’s pretty cheeky as I couldn’t do much of course.

He was in shock for several hours after he came home and found what had been happening in his absence but eventually he started nudging me from time to time and then grinning at me! I had hoped it would help him out of the doldrums but the effect was way bigger than that as he got really enthusiastic again and threw himself at the remaining shed jobs with gusto. It was flipping wonderful for us three to be able to help him so much with a plan so ‘simple’.

Shed roof

One very holey shed roof!

I say ‘simple’. None of us had done anything like that before. We researched it thoroughly and then kinda made it up as we went along. 😉

After much removing of carpets, fire-hazard ceiling tiles, wallpaper, filling of holes and cracks, sanding of well, everything… we are fiiinally about to be able to paint some base coats on a few walls. In fact Magic Dude is doing exactly that as I edit this and I want to go and see but can’t get up, waaah! I’ll get to see it later though. And we still have the dyeing and varnishing of the upstairs floorboards to do (another thoroughly researched but totally new endeavour)!

So we’re getting there.

Slowly.

And my pain levels are worse because anything extra throws them out. I work hard to pace my daily activity but have found it easy to get too involved and overdo my morning physio so I then do less for my evening physio to balance it out. This then means that I’m doing different activities to usual and training my body to be more flexible on how my daily activity is grouped when it really is much more sensible to only vary one thing at a time. Still, I’ve done pretty well restricting my activity to the crucial paced time per day overall during all this change, tradesmen noise and long list of stuff that needs doing.

Magic Dude has now driven me to a few Tai Chi classes whilst he’s been off work to try and help me normalise my paced activity a little more. I’m learning a new and challenging style (Chen) so that’s a good distraction to think about between paced physios. And when thinking isn’t distraction enough to help me cope with the pain I resort to immersing my senses in Lord of the Rings Online for a while.

Me, decorating

Sometimes I’m able to help out a bit during my daily paced physio time

So, I guess to sum up: I’ve moved home, I live in perpetual dust, I’m trying to convince my lower torso get involved in Chen style Tai Chi and I’m nearly out of the dangerous tunnels of Moria! 😉

xx

CRPS Awareness photo challenge: flames and ice

Today’s photo challenge is to post something which includes flames, as they are often used to symbolise the burning pain experienced in CRPS. As I created the firey flaming CRPS awareness ribbon the other day I have put together another couple of info’ posters using that but I have made a point of adding in something else so that more of us CRPSers feel represented.

Many of us experience a different kind of burning. An icy burning. Sometimes it occurs as part of the CRPS doing it’s thing in our affected areas and sometimes it is triggered by an external source (for example I have to wear gloves to get anything out of the freezer coz it burns so much). (Wow, that’s not a good font to write about burning in, it looks like it says ‘bums’, oh dear)!

Of course there’s not really a ‘one or the other’ scenario. Despite recent research rumblings about ‘hot’ or ‘cold’ CRPS as either potential subtypes or as a way of referring to acute and chronic CRPS, many of us experience both the hot and cold burning. So for a large percentage of CRPSers the hot and cold representations are a truer representation of our personal experience with the condition.

Anyway, I have created two more info posters using exactly the same info’ but with an additional cold theme. One with an iceberg, and one with a background pattern of the icy frost that forms on glass. Here’s hoping you like them.

 

Firey ribbon, iceberg, graded background, info poster

 

Flaming ribbon on iced glass info poster

 

I’ll add them to the Fbk blog page as well so that if you feel they are useful to share they are at least easily accessible.

Much love from me,

x

CRPS Awareness photo challenge: fear and coping

Today’s challenge is to post a quote which has helped me cope. This little gem of a quote is from the book ‘Dune’ by Frank Herbert.

Fear is the mind killer

It gives us a choice in the face of bad things. We don’t have to accept being flattened by our circumstances. Changing our response to fear gives us back some control. We can feel our emotions but we don’t have to be overwhelmed by them.
The kind of life changes that result from chronic ill health have been described as a kind of drowning.

This quote suggests we can get through this. And we can. 💜

x

CRPS Awareness photo challenge: regained

Suzy's photo challenge, 2015, day 11

Something I never thought I’d do again.

A bit tricky for me as if I find I can’t do something any more I don’t think “that’s it, I’ll never do that again”, – I accept that I can’t do that for now but I don’t write everything off entirely. That would be a very defeatist approach which I avoid because that’s enough to make anyone prone to depression. Besides, this neuro condition is all about change. Some changes can be positive. So there’s nothing important that I’ve written off that it turns out I can now do again during physio time. Except for… grating cheese and rolling pastry!

Heh!

The important things that I had to accept as written off are few but sadly they still stand.

But at least I can grate cheese again, right?!

x

Send in the clowns

Well here we are again. Well done people, you’ve traversed another year. Whatever you’ve been through this year, the ups, the downs, the wibbles, you’ve been awesome. You’ve hung in there and here you are now reading about my own little adventure new years eve.

I went out today to run some errands. It made me realise how long it’s been since I drove myself into town for a physio’. I was actually a bit nervous about going so far from the house on my own with no-one to meet there ‘just in case’. But it was a successful trip. The festive market has gone so there’s more pedestrian space, and the multitude of shoppers has thinned back down to a more usual amount so I didn’t have to wait in any long queues, hurrah!

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Christmas lights

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I bought some Christmas cards for next year (I know, organised eh?! hehe), a notebook for my upcoming free online course on medical neuroscience and some beer for Magic Dude to swig at midnight tonight to see in the new year with me. But I also grabbed some unexpected additions: some cute lights to hang from the mantle piece and a reindeer decoration for the Christmas tree. Oh, and obviously I needed a Batman biro with multiple colour options. And a glittery travel mug. Obviously. 😉

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New Years Eve buying

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Living with chronic illness does tend to be a bit of a circus at times so new years eve is often pretty hard for many of my fellow patients out there. We tend to find the laughs, silliness and smiles where we can but some times are harder than others. Which is why I want to share this…. I fell about laughing when I finally saw this following little ditty last night which may become my theme tune for 2015….

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Imagine leaving a doctors appointment where we’ve seen a practitioner particularly lacking in knowledge specific to our conditions – what a circus. What better to cheer us up than to sing quietly to ourselves as we leave…”dah-dah-daddle-uh-da-dah-dah Circus…”! By the time I get to the bit about polka-dots I expect I’ll be chuckling. We’re stronger than we think.

Sending best wishes for the new year to you all,

Love from me

x

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P.S. Here’s a version in multiple languages. Just because. 😉

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Inspiring addition

I was window-shopping online during a time of brainlessness and I spotted a cushion cover which made me feel inspired.

We are often told we “can’t” do things and we soo often feel that we “can’t”, especially as we have a tendency to compare our abilities with that of our former selves. Change over time happens to everyone and we are being rather unfair on ourselves by comparing the me-now with the me-in-the-past, and extra unfair by focusing on what we can do instead of who we are. Change happens to everyone in various ways. And yes our health changes can be pretty massive, but the way forward is helped enormously by the way we view things. Our reality involves our perception of it. And perception plays an extra big part for us when it comes to coping skills and finding the positives.

Being able to turn those “can’t”s around into “can”s is a truly fabulous feeling. And feeling inspired is often such a floaty-light moment of gloriousness where we rediscover our smile, our hope, our confidence, our determination. It is not to be underestimated or neglected.

So I bought that cushion cover for myself. Every time I looked at it online I felt inspired so bringing that inspiration into my home where I could see it every day seemed eminently sensible!

It arrived yesterday, having travelled all the way from Australia, thanks to a shop on eBay…

Inspirational cushion cover

And the monkey was a pressie from, and created by, one of my friends from school so he makes me smile too. He and the cushion are a pretty good pairing!
(Thank you Jaime, he’s been enjoying sitting on the chair by the window in the front room). 🙂

What inspires you?

Is there something you could move to a more prominent position so that you feel lifted when you most need it?

x

The Elusive Spoon

This is written for Dysautonomia Awareness month and is spoon related as a result of Christine Miserando’s well known “Spoon Theory“. This is a bit of a day with a CRPS & Dysautonomia patient…

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Oh no, really? Morning already? How did that happen?! I mean it’s not like I got any actual quality sleep or anything! Ugh!

Scrunching her eyes up and contracting her muscles to pull herself back under the covers Elsie tried to come to terms with the time.

Yep. There’s no getting around it. It’s definitely morning and if I don’t get up I’m gonna be pushed for time.

Flopping the covers back she raised herself up slowly then waited for the spots of light to stop dancing in front of her eyes before attempting a full upright position.

Scooping up a pile of cutlery next to the bed, and then returning one to the bedside cabinet, she reached for her mobile phone to check the time. 9.30am.

Oh no, I’ve only got an hour!

A brief look of panic crossed her face before being replaced with one of intense determination.

“Right!”

Pushing herself up to standing she moved stiffly across the bedroom, being very careful to step overly widely around the corner of the bed.

No bruise that time. Hah!

Slowly becoming a little less bent over as she walked to the bathroom, she piled the cutlery on the windowsill as she reached for the toothbrush.

With clean teeth, washed body, brushed hair and an empty bladder she made her way back to the bedroom. A little more alert and minty fresh than before. A small pile of cutlery now also sat on the bathroom windowsill but the remainder was clutched in one hand and got deposited on the bed as she found underwear, tracksuit bottoms, a couple of layers and her handbag. After dressing she placed a couple more pieces of cutlery on the bedside cabinet, before stuffing the rest in her bag with the mobile phone and heading off downstairs.

How am I doing timewise? Checking her phone again. Pretty good. Still time for a proper breakfast. On went the kettle, into the microwave went the porridge, and she started counting out supplements, vitamins and medications into a pretty coloured shot glass. Tea made, porridge mixed with scrummy cinnamon, tablets collected together, hot water bottle made… all went into the living room and she turned the TV on for company before collapsing on the sofa.

Placing the hot water bottle under her legs and pulling a nearby blanket over them she grimaced a little but only for a moment. Then that look of determination returned again. Reaching for her bag she removed some of the cutlery, placing it on the table.

Hmmmm, this bag’s getting light already.

Half an hour later and once again standing upright, Elsie makes a soft drink to put into the bag along with a bag of ginger, half a bag of salted pumpkin seeds kept shut with a metal stationery clip, and her collapsed practice sword.

“Trainers! Can’t be forgetting them now, can I?”

I wonder if my neighbours can hear me talking to myself? Hehe
Coat, bag, keys, flask, mobile, trainers, insoles…. yep I think I’m ready.

Reaching into her bag she removed several items of cutlery and left them on the coffee table before locking up the house and settling into the car for the short journey into the outskirts of town.

As she pulled up into the car park at the industrial estate there was a single piece of cutlery lying on the passenger seat. After finding no parking spaces and all the disabled bays taken she had to use a space outside on the main road to walk from. Before leaving the car she placed her disabled parking badge on the dashboard and a second spoon next to the first and then walked to a business unit where she greeted classmates and teacher and started industriously putting on her trainers and doing some stretches that have a tendency to make other people’s eyes water. But that’s hypermobility for you!

After 15 minutes of calming Chi Gong she felt more separate from any stresses and strains but had to drink some of her lemon squash to try and reduce her body’s urge to faint. Some glugs of fluid later and the class were moving in time to the music for the Yang style 24 form of Tai Chi. It’s the form often seen practiced around the world and it felt good to go through the moves together as a group and to feel the body responding to what was being asked of it. The familiar moves being reined in by Elsie so that she doesn’t topple over as often nearly happens early in a lesson.

Good thing the teacher knows about me or I’d have a list of corrections as long as my arm!

While the others were chatting about the moves they’d just worked through, Elsie quickly ate some ginger to try to reduce the nausea, had another couple of swigs of fluid to try to reduce the faintyness and then she expanded her practice sword to it’s full length to start some individual work. The class numbers were small today and there was a little more space to wave the sword around!

It felt good to work through the sword moves she knew so far, but after some corrections from the teacher the fluidity and meaning of the moves increased and it felt great! No, it felt awesome! How wonderful to be upright and moving with purpose. She knew the moves could look beautiful if she worked at it hard enough, so while the lesson lasted she went over and over and over… just getting the moves more clearly etched into her head and into her ‘muscle memory’ for an even better foundation to work on. Fantastic!

When she returned home she found that getting out of the car was already difficult. Walking as well as she could she went indoors to put the kettle on again. The pain was already rising. She could not stand long enough to make any food for a midday lunch so she grabbed a banana and a protein flapjack. With hot water bottle and a cup of tea she returned to her spot under the blanket and this time she lay down flat to try to help her body recover from the near-fainting that had come on.

Reaching for her bag she removed several pieces of cutlery and looked at what she had left. One piece for everything she did. Starting with a finite number she had to lose a spoon for every move she made. One for getting to the bathroom. One for getting washed. One for getting dressed. They go down in number so fast it makes her days very tricky. Carefully placing her remaining spoons on top of her bag she figured she might have enough to get ready for bed later, but not enough to get any food.

Sighing she lay back and waited for the heat of the hot water bottle to help her muscles relax a little, for the pain levels to reduce a little from the high levels to something a little less screamy.

She knew she’d not be able to move for several hours.

Good thing I forced myself to the bathroom already or I’d be dying for a wee by now!

Resigning herself to the hours of pain ahead she smiled to herself.

An hour ago I was doing sword Tai Chi! What an achievement!

She grinned and adjusted the position of her legs. Then turned on the laptop to see how her fellow patients were doing that day. Her brain was not up to much at all, but at least she could say hi and check everyone was okay.

She settled in for the long haul. Distraction would help pass the recovery time. Then it would be time to physio’ again. That’s when she would decide what to do about not being able to get food. Maybe one of those vitamin powdered drinks, she could possibly mix that with milk before running out of spoons entirely and ending up in a mega-flare.

We’ll see. That’s later. This is now. And right now I’m chuffed that I learnt more in my physio’ class today.

***

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Spoons are more than cutlery to us ‘Spoonies’, they are our metaphorical spoons that help to describe our medically induced limitations to others. We try to make spoons last longer, try to get the most value out of each one that we can. We desperately wish we had more of them to be able to function a little more during each day and often send virtual spoons to each other in solidarity for our daily challenges. Sometimes we ‘borrow’ spoons from the next day, a kind of advance on spoons that we will severely pay for later in health repercussions.

The 'Ishishara Spoon' created for one of Jasper Fford's books

The ‘Ishishara Spoon’ created for one of Jasper Fford’s books

Picture source – no longer available but it was a challenge on Jasper Fford’s Facebook page to use various images. He was intrigued to find out what we might use them for!
You can still see this artwork on his webbie here though. 🙂

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National Poetry Day in the UK

The Now

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I’m having a transition

I don’t feel quite right

It’s not bad

It’s just…

The full extent is not yet in sight

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I’ve tried to put it into words

But they only show the edge

The words are right

The truth is there

But I can’t see past the ledge

So

What I think is happening

Is only half the tale

Or less maybe –

I just don’t know how deep the scale

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I think I’ve passed another milestone

Or I can feel it by the way

I yearn to peek

And see what’s what

But a day still lasts a day

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I cannot rush to find out

I can only live each day

The Now

That’s when I like to be

No peering in the grey

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This trembling within myself

Has not yet reached my brain

The body knows

But I do not

And

I must not entertain

Speculations

That might not help

They are not my realm

The Now is home

The Now is mine

And I am at the Helm

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Suicide, the difference between wanting to kill yourself and wishing you didn’t exist

Contact with fellow patients who are currently feeling suicidal is part of the norm for many patients with chronic conditions. Anyone who’s been there ‘gets it’ and if we’re strong enough to support without our own coping mechanisms being compromised then of course we do so. Because we’ve been there. And though we each have to dig ourselves out of the mire it helps when there is someone out there saying “I believe in you”.

The reality of suicidal thoughts is not that someone wants to ‘kill themselves’, the thought of having to do the ‘killing yourself’ part is horrible so you want to find the least horrific way to do so. The ‘killing’ bit is not the point. The point is that someone who is considering suicide can see no way forward. No way out. Their situation has become so overwhelming that their coping mechanisms just can’t balance everything out. This is not a failure on their part. And if you’re reading this and you feel like this right now – this is not a failure. It is human and understandable. And you are not alone in this, there are people out here who understand how you feel and why you feel this way.

It is also not something to be ashamed of. It is understandable that someone with health issues that are changing their life, to the extent that they don’t feel like it actually is their life any more, feel this way. With pain levels so high that is impossible to think, to function or to see further than the darkest of times that currently make the light seem like nothing but a long lost memory. And not just pain. Crawling along the floor because your body is trying to make you pass out. Feeling like you’ve just won a medal because your body has actually allowed you to have a poo and this time you actually didn’t end up on the bathroom floor with your body temperature going through the roof, stomach thinking it should vomit right about now, body wanting you to lie down or it’ll make you faint and meanwhile you watch the room spin and spin whilst your head throbs so hard you just wish you’d pass out and miss having to experience this bit. I mean seriously, when your life has changed so much, no wonder you’re left reeling. And no wonder you just want to opt out. Many fellow patients know about this. You are not alone.

Time and again I’ve heard fellow patients echo my own words from years before, “it’s not that I want to kill myself, it’s just that I wish I didn’t exist”, “if I could just choose to not wake up…”

If you’re feeling this right now, I get it. I understand. I’ve been there.

As Rellacaffa also pointed out, society tends to say “Shhh! You don’t talk about suicide“. And you know what? We should. To not talk about this is to leave all those experiencing it feeling alone, forgotten, left on the sidelines and with no way out other than the very final way. Seriously the number of people who have been through this is huge. And to come through it is truly hellish but, trust me, when you start to build that way-out the light begins to seep in again. There is another way.

And you are not alone. (If you’re feeling these things right now I’m sending you a hug right here, xx)

When I realised just how different wanting to kill yourself is from wanting to not exist, I got stubborn. Why should I be stuck looking at opting out in such an extreme manner when I knew that the situation had overwhelmed me so utterly that my coping skills just weren’t enough any more? Why should I be put in a position where I’m considering giving in, how dare the world work that way? So I decided that I needed to take a new approach or things were not going to change.

When you hit rock bottom you are faced with two glaring options a) opt out, or b) refuse to opt out. But if we want to refuse then things can’t stay as they are. It’s that simple. Things have to change. So the options really are: a) opt out or b) change things.

With our coping mechanisms so severely outweighed the changes have to be of importance to us. And when we reach such an extreme stage in our journey we have to be prepared to take a step back and be honest with ourselves about everything. We get our head to separate out different aspects of our life and allow our heart to be honest with us on each one. Then we have to make a decision about what needs to change. What is most important to us. What will keep us alive? What will make us want to stay alive?

For me my change was to upsticks and move home. Which seems massive when in that state but it was what my assessment of my life at the time led me to and frankly if it’s going to stand a chance of changing things so that the coping mechanisms stand more of a chance of balancing things out then it’s worth it. I had been continuing to live in an area that I used to work in. I had already managed to get my mentally abusive boyfriend to finally go away. (It’d only taken about a year of asking him to go and him refusing. Yep, I was that run down that I couldn’t even call the shots on my own relationship, doh)! And the subsequent fleeting boyfriend had opened my eyes to what life could be like if there was someone who wanted to spend time with me and even help me get out and do things. That realisation that another life was possible was what tipped me over the edge once I was back in my isolated existence again, but it’s also what drove me to push for the changes. I wanted a life. I accepted my health issues, but I did not want to accept the unnecessary additional negatives too.

For others the main change might be having to give up work to remove some of the stress levels and allow for better pain management, or contacting the local pain management team to ask about training in handy psychological tools for patients with chronic conditions. Certainly a change of focus is required and we need to point ourselves firmly in the direction of life and refuse to dwell on health stuff. I mean we obviously have health stuff in our faces all day every day, but there’s a difference between productive temporary thinking and circular negative thinking. The first can be useful when required then put to one side so that life can happen, the second takes over our continuous present so that life gets squished out of the picture. We deserve to have an existence that we want to hang onto. So we need to figure out what it is that we want to hang onto and what it is that prevents us or makes us feel like we don’t want to hang on. What is it that lifts us that we can get more of by changing something? What is it which brings us down which we can remove or change so that we are not quite as overwhelmed?

Talk to someone you trust, whether near of far, allow yourself to put what you feel into words. If there’s no-one you’d feel truly comfortable doing this with then contact a support line, or get referred to a clinical psychologist (often also available through pain management teams) who can help you to gain handy tools and to figure out what needs to be changed. You deserve this support. You have a right to this support. It is part of the health issues you face and you do not have to do this bit alone.

I know many fellow patients who have also been through this. And their strength and optimism probably means that others do not realise that this is a part of their (our) past, but coming through this has that effect. We are stronger, we know ourselves better, and quite frankly when you’ve stared that option in the face and found another way instead then you know that you can handle anything that comes your way. So there isn’t just another way, it is one heck of an amazing path that can lead you to places you currently can’t see or imagine, but we all started where many patients are now. Where maybe even you are now. We were there. We understand. We ‘get it’. You are not alone and there is another way.

Love and strength,

x

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Additional links for medical staff:

Experienced nurse in multiple areas, Isy Aweigh writes here on some hugely important tips and insights for medical practitioners with potentially suicidal patients.

Michael Negraeff, MD, wrote last month of an experience with a suicidal patient here, and his thoughts link in with Isy’s article above.