Wednesday, 20 November 2019

Life in Pain

Well, I'm still here, thoughts moving so fast that it's been hard to catch one thread tight enough to write something. When I'm drugged up on intense pain killers- which is how I've been like for the past year or so that I feel as though I'm not even in the same dimension as my thoughts and feelings. I feel like a fetus in the womb trying to communicate with the people outside touching the belly of the person carrying me. It is all mumbled up, nothing makes real sense. I can't see let alone discern this mish-mash of the world beyond the very outer layers of my consciousness.

And yet without these pain killers, I am too conscious, all the thoughts become so overwhelming that I get crushed by the reality I face. I can't help but wonder why I have to suffer so much, why I've been in so much pain for so long, and why it's so bad this time around, why I am unable to fight and overcome it this time. I worry about my future and the dreams I have that will be quite simply snuffed out. Most importantly, I worry that I have let those around me down. Without the pain killers, I may as well never get out of bed, because I won't be able to. It's hard enough with the cold temperature as it is. 

There are so many people out there who are in pain, have been in pain for so long without a clear diagnosis. You are not alone. No wonder chronic pain and mental health illness go hand in hand. So we keep popping pills to make us marginally not feel the pain that largely zombifies us, and the antidepressants that make us feel blind hope. I demand a diagnosis. And apparently at 32 they listen to you more closely than when you're 19. No more false hope, no more blind faith. They did their tests, they found anomalies. Soon, I will finally know what's been wrong with me. I love the NHS as a concept but it has really let me down when it has come to my chronic pain. I've been let down so many times, hopes of a cure dashed, ambiguous answers and a few times even a crying for help. After 13 years of suffering, I feel closer to an answer I've been searching for. 

I honestly don't care what it is that I have. I've already lived with it for years and years. Just give me the name and I can address it head on. Give me a clear path so that I can restart my life. 

Until next time, 
Sen x

Monday, 21 October 2019

Feeling Alive



 Well, it has been 2 years in the making, I find myself on the path to redemption. Mental health, especially when it breaks down creates a path of distruction. Anyone and everyone one physically and mentally interacts with is affected. But afterwards, it takes double if not triple the amount of time and effort to be open and for those people to be ready to confront that situation, to forgive and for us to redeem ourselves. This process is very important for us. We cannot expect understanding from others if we ourselves cannot understand where and how we ended up in the pit; the pit being the worst place we've ever been. For me, it was an attempt to end my life. I didn't realise that it would take me a couple of years to confront and change the different parts of my life that needed improving and developing, but I have done what I can so far.

Mental health illnesses may seem familiar to those who have suffered from them but an overwhelming majority of people still don't understand what it is. If empathy fails on them to feel anything, chances are they are unlikely no matter what. Instead, my proposition to you is, if you can, pause before attempting to commit suicide, don't count your blessings or any of that bs, open yourself sincerely, don't worry about that whole nonsense about being selfish, just remember you are valued. You are not alone, there is a whole lot of us out there. Don't give your life up, it's not them, it's not you either. You belong. It doesn't matter if you're the black sheep, I am one too. I'm glad to be alive, it's taken a while to feel that way, but I am ultimately glad to be alive. And you may be one day too.


Sen X

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