People tell me I’m strong, I’m brave, I’m a fighter. But mainly I just feel afraid.
Being chronically ill takes away all the control in your life, it strips away all the things that make you you and leaves this husk of a being.
The last couple of weeks have been so draining, like the life in me has been sucked away. The surgery was a shock, though it was going to be planned, to have it dropped on me with days notice shook me to the core.
When I got home from hospital I picked up a stomach bug. I felt sick and nauseous and that feeling took over everything. I had stomach cramps that felt like the worst contractions and I was passing water from my stoma, I lost a stone in a week and I honestly felt like I was dying.
But it was the fear that was the worst.
I felt so afraid, I refused to let Timm call the doctors as I was terrified that they would make me go back in to the hospital and the thought of that was so overwhelming. I couldn’t stop crying, I couldn’t breathe, I had panic attacks and I felt as though I was losing my grip on reality.
Fear is such a strong emotion. A feeling that takes over everything else.
I lost independence and control and had to rely completely on Timm. I was afraid that I’d never feel any better than that again and the thought of that was too much to bear.
This led to the fear that I was too much of a burden. That it would be too much for Timm and he’d walk away. Though he never once did anything to make me feel that way, I think past experience of people I thought loved me walking away planted a seed of doubt that anyone would want to put up with me.
I’m afraid of missing work, I’m afraid of going back to work, I’m afraid that I’m screwing up the kids when they have to see me like this.
Im scared that I’ll never be me again, that I won’t be able to walk the dogs, to work in the allotment, to travel, to be free. I’m afraid that I’m always going to be a patient, a sick person, that I’ll be a constant visitor to hospitals and that my life will be a constant cycle of illness, treatment and recovery.
My nan passed away the day before I was admitted to hospital and so my recovery has coincided with a deep grief and mourning that hits me like a punch to the gut. It’s been a really tough couple of weeks.
I know this is a depressing post, but it feels better to get it out, to give it a voice and to take the power away from this feeling of fear and give me back some control over how I feel.
So though I’m filled with fear right now, I have no other choice but to keep going. I got a card recently and on the front it said ‘take it one day at a time’. There have been days where even that was too much, I had to take it one hour at a time, fuck, sometimes it was one minute at a time!
And sometimes that it all we can do.