And then it doesn't end.
You tell yourself again and again that you can do this. You tell yourself you have to get up and do things because the world isn't going to stop turning just because you've had enough. Life isn't going to just wait for you to be good and ready. You tell yourself that the only realistic direction is forward and because going forward is so logical you're just going to go right ahead and do it.
So I went forward. And I've been going forward my whole life. Because I never really considered properly what would happen if I didn't and what would happen if I did. And in hindsight, I'm starting to wish I'd stopped. Because going forward has only ushered me into a life that I don't understand. It's given me trial after trial and in terms of respite, very little. I wake up everyday with the "I can do this" attitude and every single day is a dodgy surprise. Some days my moods a surprise, some days this rash is a surprise, some days my tendons and ligaments are a surprise, some days my latest illness is a surprise. Every day I lose, and not for a lack of trying.
So over the course of the past few years, I think I've come to fear living. It doesn't often show, but I've realised yesterday and today that this is almost certainly the case. Every night when I go to bed I'm still awake, sometimes for hours, no matter how tired I am. And I'm processing all the horror of the day just gone by. Sometimes its bad enough that I want to ring someone, but 1) I'm not sure who and 2) 2-4am seems like a dodgy time to be ringing anyone. And when I wake up the next morning, I'm scared. And I'm worried. And I'm downright afraid. Even though some of the things I'm worried about aren't necessarily tomorrow.
One thing that's really starting to get me is the pulmonary hypertension. This time in two weeks, I will know whether I'll be sick forever or not. And I want to think positively and believe that it'll all be fine, but in my heart of hearts it just seems so unlikely. In a perfect world I'm just unfit. But the reality of the situation is, I just can't be. I do enough exercise that it simply cannot be the case. So yes, in my heart of hearts, I'm preparing for the worst. I'm preparing to be sick.
It's the worst kind of sick too. The sick the has no treatment at its current level, just regular monitoring. I hate being monitored, as you may or may not have noticed. My intense dislike of monitoring has lead me far from sitting down with any kind of therapist on a weekly basis to talk this out. I avoid therapists because I feel they have nothing -- except drugs -- to offer me. And I do not want their drugs. Drugs are dangerous. Even the helpful ones can and will scar you, if they don't kill you first.
I learnt that the hard way.
So yes, April 24th is two weeks away. But I'm still scared. And even when April 24th is over, no matter the news, I still have months of roaccutane. And beyond that a dysfunctional brain and body that likes to surprise me. And I have friends that leave and ones I wish I'd never met to begin with. So of course I find it hard to trust people. Some people even like to exploit these weaknesses. And I don't want them exploited. So I wake up in the morning and I'm a bit worried, a little afraid.
Because I don't know what's out there. And what I do know repeatedly tells me its not worth knowing. I'm in pain. Something is constantly hurting. Today my muscular pain from a riding fall is sitting prominently on my collarbone making moving my right arm and breathing painful. My wrist is straining to type this, I had a hell of a time completing a practice exam today. I'm exhausted. No amount of sleep is ever enough, I just want and need more constantly. My mind hurts. It makes me unhappy. It makes me grumpy and I don't even know why sometimes. And when I do know I feel its so trivial that I don't want to bother anyone with it because I feel stupid. And I hate feeling stupid. I really just do not want to be this way anymore. I don't want to be afraid. I don't want to fear life, nor do I want to fear people. But I don't know how to change that.
And I suppose, that the thing/s I do to change this will define me, in a way. They will tell me whether I intend to be strong or whether I'll expose my weaknesses once and for all. And, I won't lie, I'm not sure I'm ready to see which direction I'll choose yet either. There's just so many things that are unsure in my future, both near and distant, that I don't know... I don't know whether I want any of it, anymore.
I once made the decision to live. But that was before I woke up one morning and realised I was afraid. I don't know that I want to revoke that decision just yet, but I don't know that I don't either. In the same way I'm afraid to live, I'm afraid to die. There could be nothing out there. And that'd be poor reward for what I've suffered over the past seventeen years. I'm far from having a "life come at me" attitude. And I will be for a very long time. But I'm not happy with where I am either.
I'm not happy with fear.
- Sky
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