I’m struggling lately, friends. Not functioning well at all. I tried to chalk it up to overdoing it, but I’ve had a lot of rest these last two days, and I’m not feeling any better. I should have noticed some improvement by now. At least, I typically do. Usually, after a few days of doing too much, if I just give myself a full day of rest, the suffering starts subsiding by the next day. Well, yesterday was nothing but sleep and tub time (aside from a bit of facebooking), and today I feel even worse.
My neck and craniocervical junction are definitely out of place. I know that’s gotta be the bulk of the problem. I just can’t get it to stay where I put things during physiotherapy. I wish I could handle going to an actual Physical Therapist or have one come here, but stuff is so delicate that PT has proven more harmful than helpful in my case. I know that my slow and steady, modified exercises are helping. I do feel stronger and more stable than I was a year ago. I just wish things would progress faster to a point where I can handle a few trips out of the house a week instead of groceries being my only outing.
Just feeling frustrated and impatient with my body lately.
I guess I’m a bit frustrated with myself and my internalized ableism, too. I keep catching myself not accepting the help I need. With Hubby gone, I’ve had a few people over to help with stuff, and I keep not letting them do the things I really actually need to not be doing. They offer, and I automatically just blurt out “No, that’s ok. I got it. Thanks, though.”
This is a lie.
Well, not every time. Sometimes I really don’t need the help. Probably 60% of the time, though, I need to just step aside and say “Yes, please. Thank you for protecting me from hurting myself.”
And, of course, these people love me enough to not overstep the boundaries I give them, so they allow my stubborn independence to win out.
I’m so accustomed to needing to rely only on myself. I’m so brainwashed by the traumas of utter defeat when I tried to rely on others only to be devastated with disappointment. I’m still holding on to the life where I had no choice other than depending solely on my own abilities, and I’m still in love with the strong, self-reliant, fierce woman I was up until just a few years ago.
I’m not even swallowing well enough to be able to take all my supplements! Why can’t I just let go and accept the help? I know I need it. The logic is there in my brain. The regret is there afterward when Ableist Bitch has taken over and spoken for me.
I keep losing weight because I’m not breaking food down or absorbing nutrients like I should (down to 110 (~50kg) pounds fully dressed with my cervicothoracic brace on!). Makes sense that I should be conserving as much energy as possible so as not to rob my body of the fuel it’s so desperate for. I know my spine is even more unstable lately up top, so I know I need to avoid movement as much as possible, especially bending, leaning, and reaching.
I just can’t, though. I’m addicted to independence. Letting go of it – giving control or power superior to mine over to someone else – simply isn’t part of my programming. I’ve been punished too severely for doing so before. Both sinks are full of dishes that I wouldn’t let anyone do. The dishwasher still needs unloaded from three days ago. I need laundry washed and even did a load of jeans that rendered me incapacitated for the rest of the day just switching from washer to dryer. I keep stepping on stuff dragged in from outside because the floors all need swept or vacuumed. I even cooked dinner for a dear friend the other day because I wanted food and wasn’t functioning well enough to stop myself. I was stuck in ‘good hostess’ mode and couldn’t even tell him what to do when he asked what he could do to help.
I get offers I don’t accept, and I know it’s my own fault for not swallowing my pride and letting them show me the love and support I deserve and need.
A lot of it is riding out adrenaline surges. Something will slip and trigger adrenaline to deal with the pain before I fully feel it, so then I’ll think, “Awesome! Energy! Let’s use it and get shit done while I can!”, knowing full well that I’m setting myself up to suffer when it finally wears off. I know how damaging it is! Why do I punish myself like that?
I hate being dependent is why. I hate feeling like a burden. I hate being the reason someone else has to do more. I hate the feebleness it magnifies within my reality. I hate the inescapable vulnerability of it.
Just like Mommy Dearest and Psychopath Ex programmed me to do, I’m punishing myself for having weaknesses.
Just like society has dictated, I’m scolding my insufficient performance.
I’m so angry about where it seems my condition is heading, and I’m not ready to succumb to my own needs. Denial? Lil bit. Pride/ego? For sure. Mostly, though, I’m angry about the loss. I’m still mourning the loss of that woman I dreamed I’d become. I know I’m still capable of great things. I know there’s nothing wrong with being unable to do something or needing help. Knowing and doing, though…
So, friends, please forgive me for not being honest with you. I do need more help than I’ll admit to. I can try to get better about that, but I might need you to stand up and fight me every so often. I do understand that I really shouldn’t be doing some things, even though I physically can actually do it. I’ll admit right now that if a time comes where you feel compelled to step in and take over, I might get mad in the moment. I might express anger or frustration, and I might direct it at you. I might begrudge you a bit for stealing my autonomy, but rest assured that deep down, I do know that what you’re doing is showing me some love and support. Just please be patient with me as I come to terms with myself.