Realities, that is.
Yep – it’s early hours again and once again I haven’t been able to sleep much. I lay there for a long while. I was warm, comfortable and all was quiet. Except my head. Except my heart.
One just egged the other on, throwing up images and memories. So the other retaliated with pangs and waves of surplus.
Until eventually the body caught up. And i found myself sobbing…all over again. Second night running.
I ebb …….and I flow…….
And I cant win, you know. There is no actual winning.
Because I didnt know I was fighting. I didnt know I needed to. Then I didnt know what I was fighting……or who. Or why. Then I just fought because I was hurt and angry……..and frustrated most of all. I reacted.
And then……..everything went white hot. Everything just vapourised.
The slo-mo explosion movie of my life – still waiting to see where the pieces will land.
The day before yesterday, despite pain and inevitable fatigue from the day before, I got up – I even put make up on for possibly only the 3rd time this year and I went out and faced the world.
And we enjoyed our time out. There were many beautiful shiny things to look at, to touch and to wish I could buy.
But I had a photograph taken. And photographs are different to looking in the mirror. I remember a time, in the run up to, and for a long while after, my surgery, when I looked in the mirror and just didnt recognise myself.
The extreme and unceasing pain had left a mark on me. Even I could see it melded into the way my flesh sat on my skull.
Looking at this latest photo has been no different.
I dont recognise myself.
The stress and pain of the last 7 weeks has taken its toll. My eyes are dull, with mahoosive dark circles that not even touche eclait can hide. I look older. And even I can see that something has gone out in me or gone from me.
People have always used the word ‘sparkle’ in reference to me. And, i suppose, that sense of vitality. I have heard it from all kinds of people along the way – family, friends, teachers, tutors, a counsellor, from spirit via a medium one time, and most recently from my GP. I suppose it goes hand in hand with other adjectives people have used to describe me at various times….fiery…..spitfire……LOL…….snappy….fizzy…….
Gods what an assortment!! But looking at them now they all seem to have a sense of fast movement to them……sparkle, snappy, fizzy, fiery, spitfire.
And that’s really nothing like me at all – especially now I have FM. But I was never what you would call hyperactive. Being always busy is not the same thing.
Mentally? I make no bones about my grasshopper brain. I actually warn people about it. It can leap from one thing to something else randomly – yet the links make perfect sense to me. It does make for some amusing conversations at times tho 😀
So, this aspect of…..what you perceive and what I perceive about the same thing ….is complex. And what it amounts to is my truth is not your perception and vice versa. The reality for the person we pass at the bus stop – as we might both perceive the same – is inevitably going to be different to what we guess about them.
And then also, of course, one of the self-helpy routes out of depression/low self esteem etc…..to “act as if”
Act as if for long enough, they say, and you will become. You reckon? For real? Through and through?
No. I dont think so. It might help you get through each door or over each hurdle. But once alone again. Once its quiet and your brain or your soul or whatever has chance to speak again and be heard……in other words once the grease paint comes off…..there is just the actor underneath.
Marillion and Onkel Fish released many a song about it if you listen. As I expect have many other singers/songwriters/musicians/bands.
But going through your own motions when what you really want to do is hide and sleep. Doing it actually for no-one but yourself. That takes a kind of strength I dont have. Its far more positive and stronger than my way of coping ….or not.
Yesterday my FM kicked back HARD – it has landed in a new place that is making walking even harder than usual. Oh deepest joy. Something else to add to the list of body parts it is settling into.
And I am semi hemi again. One side of my face stiffer than the other, inflexible; and semi numb in my right arm. Light sensitive.
So maybe the conclusions implied by the masses recently are right…..
I am not destined to be happy (oh yes. Somebody actually said that to me. Someone who doesnt read my blog. And this…) I am destined to be alone.
Because after all…..who could possibly fall in love with all that is me?
Not any kind of normal person, obviously.
Except that in my reality – which is the one I live in every moment of every day – one did.
And I wouldnt swap those 16 or so months for anything. Because they were the happiest I have ever been with a man. The most loved I have ever felt. The most complete. The most valued, the most wanted and treasured. The most beautiful. The most hopeful. And it was actions, not words that gave me all that.
In the grand scheme of things – both past and recent – it is early days in many ways. There is still much ebbing and flowing.
There is still much to sort out in relation to my stargate. Adjustments to be made and it’s all day to day.
But the silence is broken. And I am glad.
And I know now, things from all directions, that I didnt know before. And I know some things will never, ever happen again. And I am ok with that…..beneath my…..recovery. Because I believe that I can finally put an end to one of the cyclical spirally things I have mentioned before. I think one of the lessons it kept throwing at me has finally been learned.
My response to this has been criticised before now. But at the end of the day…..I have to live with my truths and my reality the same way everybody does. And if you cant be true to yourself, then you are doomed. And any perceived harshness is just your point of view. Just your opinion. You are entitled to it. Just dont expect me to live my reality based on it. Because if I didnt need to react this way, there wouldnt be a problem. So put the blame on the problem instead. Be realistic.
Like I am having to be.
I mourn, of course I do. But it has shaken, and taken, more than silence.
The rebuild begins now. In more ways than one. It will take time and it will take patience as there are no plans. Day by day, step by step. Here. There. And in between? We’ll see.
But that is no longer my main focus. And I bet you never thought you would hear me say that. Me neither.
Now the silence is broken its very much a case of….what will be will be….
Me now? I’ve just got stuff to sort out, that’s all.