Saturday, May 22, 2010

Uninspiration


I can remember when I first starting getting better, when I started writing this blog, constantly feeling like I had something to say. I've been searching my self for that inspiration again, but I consistently come up empty. It's like my setbacks block my desire to reach out into the world - or that, subconsciously, I don't want this chapter recorded for posterity. Tracking my triumphs was so much more satisfying than posting updates on my continued misery. It jerks me out of my bubble of denial - and forces me to confront the fact that I'm an invalid.

When I first went on bed rest, I deliberately stopped thinking about the future. I thought about one day, one week, and beyond that I left my life in the hands of the forces beyond my control. It kept me from sinking into the dark place, because when I didn't know what I was missing, I didn't feel as sad. But when my Enbrel started working, I suddenly was imagining where I could be in a month, or six months, or next year. Then some idiot slammed her car into mine, and here I am.

I'm tired of being sick. True, I guess I've always been tired of being sick, and I guess everyone who has a chronic illness is tired of being sick. But I'm twenty-one years old, stuck in my house with the same three angels every second of every day for the past eighteen months. I seek inspiration. I seek something, anything, that awakens in me the knowledge that I could be happy, someday. However, I feel that I have run out of places to look. Today, I made myself breakfast alongside my sister's closest friend, and found myself carrying on a conversation with my dog instead. And while she is a lovely beast, is it so bad to want more than a canine sounding board and a subscription to Netflix?

photo credit: http://jsam.best.vwh.net/images/manipulated/jsam-head-implode2.jpeg

Sunday, May 9, 2010

Life, Or The Lack Therof


As a relatively new arthritis patient, I have been exposed to a proverbial deluge of information explaining how I can carpe diem despite my disease. Articles and pamphlets on exercise regimes, diets, or drugs and internet support groups galore are telling me that no matter how bleak my diagnosis, I can still live a full and happy life.

Which is comforting, seeing as I have been doing a lot of that lately.

I sometimes feel like there are too many therapies in my life. Even on the days when I am not at the doctor, my time is eaten alive by physical therapy and pain management regimes, not to mention an anti-inflammatory diet and a rigid sleep schedule. Even though technically I'm "lying around all day", it's not very relaxing.

Every now and then, I think about what I'll do, one day, when I'm free. Depending on how much I'm willing to delude myself about my physical realities, I can imagine myself in all sorts of places and doing all sorts of things. When I pull myself back to the present, though, I know that most of those ideas are impossibilities. That's when I wonder what I'm fighting so hard every day to attain.

Will most of my life be a beta version of this?

photo credit: http://tomhilgardner.files.wordpress.com/2009/08/stuck-in-a-rut-dog.jpg