I never intended for this blog to take a dark turn. In fact there wasn’t much intention at all when I first started writing. It was a somewhat out of body experience the day it all just came pouring out of me.
I’ve shared authentically, and felt virtually naked standing here, writing about my fears, pain, and self consciousness. There have been euphoric moments of solidarity and connection to new communities, and existing ones. Had I known this would have provided me with such an overwhelming sense of self worth and purpose; I would have started many years ago.
That being said-it’s not so pretty and filled with courage present day. I’m calling doctors every other day to try and get someone on the phone. Administrative assistants are now being more lax with their tone of frustration with me when I call, and ask the same question over, and over again. It’s been 8 business days since my last CT scan. I guess in retrospect that isn’t an abnormally long time to wait-but it feels like it has been ages.
I wish I hadn’t done the right thing. I wish I hadn’t braved my PTSD and booked that appointment in the beginning. I could have easily lived with a cracked lower bridge, and continued to chew on my right side. I had my lower bridge removed on December 17th, and since then I’ve fallen deeper and deeper into this new low. OI has surfaced like never before. I’m obsessively thinking about my condition. It’s like it has been in hibernation all this time-and somehow in this spring awakening it has crawled out of this cave with so many more intricate and complicated layers.
I feel the weight of depression on my shoulders. Somewhat like a familiar old friend. I seek desperately for serotonin boosts in the simplest of things. On the days that I shower and wear something other than pjs I feel more accomplished than I should. I have this constant thought that poisonously makes me believe somehow that this is all a deserved form of torture earned from mistakes made in a past life. I don’t even want to cuddle Alexander or the cats. I feel so gravitationally forced into solitude.
I’d really love to be the type of person who could sit here and write about optimism and bravery in the face of adversity but I’ve committed myself to authentically documenting this raw and real journey so here we are. I’m not sure where this will lead, or what to expect but what I do know is that what I’m feeling is human, and connects me to myself deeper and deeper each time. To know yourself deeply is to know yourself during the highs, and also during the lows. In my 29 years there are a few things I’ve become certain of. One is that as the highs get higher, the lows fall lower too. You will see it all, from both sides.
I’ve had to prioritize myself at the sacrifice of those who depend on me. My fiancé, my best friends, my family. I feel the amount of which I have recoiled inward and know that it is felt by those closest to me. For the most part I know that I’m supported in doing so-but I think of them and acknowledge the absence they may be feeling, or the inability to rely on me at this current time. That’s a tough pill to swallow.
It isn’t all bad though and it won’t always be this way. Morbidly, I’ll admit I have this sense of comradery in knowing there is generally a sense of loom and gloom over our world at this time. I know we’re all experiencing some sense of isolation and longing to return to normalcy as we face the current climate of these covid-19 times. So at least there’s that.