Then the fog came

As I’m nearing the end of my holidays, I can’t help but to think about how they went compared to my expectations.

I drove here with a heavy heart. Filled with loneliness, sorrow, completely lost. Feeling invisible to the world, immaterial. I couldn’t think because there was so much background noise back home. So much to deal with, to go through. My head was foggy, groggy, couldn’t focus. I hoped to be able to think a little more clearly. But I’m not sure I accomplished that goal. Continue reading

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Letting our emotions speak

I went to see the movie Inside Out today. It’s entertaining, fun and light – nothing too deep here, or even 100% accurate, but let’s not forget it’s a movie and not a scientific paper. More importantly – and not wanting to give away too much here – the movie is also a reminder that all our emotions play an important role in shaping who we are and keeping us safe from danger. Often we want to shut out the most unpleasant ones – sadness, fear, anger – but they are needed, and nothing else would exist without them. Continue reading

Waiting, waiting, and it’s doing me in

As I keep waiting, wondering what medication I will be taking in the future, what side effects it will give me and if it will do anything to slow my MS, life hasn’t stopped. I keep going to work everyday, to my weekly yoga class, I keep going out occasionally with friends, I keep spring cleaning even though it’s summer now and wondering how to give my apartment some final touches (it’ll be four years on Tuesday since I moved), and I generally keep doing what I normally do. And I keep waiting. Continue reading

Any given shelter

We all have experienced, at least once in our lives, that moment when we wished we could go back. But we know we can’t – it’s impossible – so we grow out of that feeling, reason we weren’t as wise back then, search for the details that tell us things weren’t even that good, all in order to quiet that longing. We say, “My life is actually better now, you know, despite.” But with chronic illness? I’m not sure the process goes like this. Continue reading

What about now?

The last time I really fell head over heels with someone I didn’t feel tired. Me, the one who was always tired and didn’t even know why, found energy where there was none, found ways to continuously pick herself up because body and mind were so light. Does love cure all? No, I don’t think so. But maybe the rush of chemicals released into our bloodstream when we’re in love have protective and anti-inflammatory effects (this is totally unscientific, please don’t quote me) and somehow help mitigate symptoms.

But that was a long time ago. That was before I was diagnosed. Continue reading

I Monday Need Tuesday A Wednesday Break Thursday From Friday Myself

saturation point. n. 1. Chemistry The point at which a substance will receive no more of another substance in solution. 2. The point at which no more can be absorbed or assimilated.

This is what MS does to me. It makes me reach my saturation point way sooner than I once did. The point at which fatigue evolves into pain because no matter how many hours I sleep they’re still not enough. The point at which I can’t stand hearing my friends talk because everything they say seems trivial and shallow compared to what’s going on in my mind. The point at which just the thought of typing a few words here drains me. Continue reading

Still such a long way

So yesterday I went to my first yoga class, which didn’t go that bad considering I’m so out of shape. The last thing we did were some relaxation exercises, and at some point we were asked to visualize in detail something we wished happened and became a reality in our lives.

Well, I didn’t exactly visualize anything as in to form an elaborate mental image of something. On hearing that, my mind just simply flashed me an image.

To which I instantly broke out sobbing.

So long relaxation, so long breathing technique, so long concentration, so long dignity.

There’s still so much work to do before I’m emotionally ok. I’ll just have to go on trying.

When meds turn you into someone you’re not

decompensation

Also found in: Medical, Encyclopedia, Wikipedia.

de·com·pen·sa·tion

(dē′kŏm-pən-sā′shən)

n.

1. Medicine The inability of a bodily organ or system, especially the circulatory system, to maintain adequate physiological function inthe presence of disease.
2. Psychology The inability to maintain defense mechanisms in response to stress, resulting in personality disturbance or psychological imbalance.
Decompensated in the psychological sense of the word – that’s how I’ve been feeling this past month. This could be due to several different reasons, maybe to bits of all of them together, and I’ll never really know for sure. I suspect stresses from work may have something to do with it. But I also suspect that having gone off of antidepressants is also playing a part. A big part. Someone pointed out to me that, although I discontinued fluoxetine according to my psychiatrist’s treatment plan, that treatment plan was designed assuming I was quitting fluoxetine while starting paroxetine, which I never did. So technically I can still be on a rebound, with all the chemicals in my brain doing the polka and the can-can.
For the past month, my sleep has been a total mess. I either spend the entire night waking up, tossing, turning and falling asleep again, or I wake up early and don’t go back to sleep, or I go to bed late because I don’t feel sleepy and then getting up the next morning is almost impossible. Sometimes, despite this lack of a stable sleeping pattern, I don’t feel tired. Oddly enough, sometimes I feel energized. Like I’m anxiety-fueled and a time bomb ready to go off.
Concentrating on anything has been a real challenge. I need to finish my college paper, and, really, all that’s left to do by now is write two closing paragraphs, put together the bibliographical references and come up with a nice cover. How hard can that be? Apparently, very hard. I can’t focus. All I want to do is finish the paper so I can move on to other projects piling up in the back of my mind, but somehow time is flying and I don’t really know where it’s going.
And finally, the mood swings. Mood roller-coasters. I’m running a full gamut of emotions every day, sometimes in just a couple of hours I can go from sad and despaired to confident and empowered, from nostalgic and lost to euphoric and foolish.
But this is where it gets interesting – and dangerous. If this description sounds like a nightmare to you, it doesn’t feel like a nightmare to me. If anything, it feels like coming home. This person that doesn’t know a good night’s sleep and that is incredibly moody and sensitive is the person I’ve always known myself to be. These past four years on antidepressants were like trying to be someone that I’m definitely not. They stabilized lots of parts of me, yes, but they also made me more numb. And a heart beating doesn’t translate into a flat line.
The thing I’m most angry about, though, is that I feel all this was for nothing. I’m not healthier because I’ve been taking all these meds. My relationships weren’t more functional because I’ve been taking all these meds. I don’t see much results. I tried to be a version of me that I believed, based on what people told me, that would be more acceptable, healthier, saner, more functional, better for me. Yet, people kept telling me I can’t be the way I am. By people I mean specifically family and ex-boyfriends. No matter how much I tried, how much I sought help, no one really gave me a break. I was still too intense, too dramatic, too high maintenance, too preoccupied.
So I’m giving myself a break. All my life I’ve been hearing I can’t be the way I am. “You’re too shy, you can’t be that way or you’ll never get anywhere in life.” “You’re too slim, you need to put some weight on.” “You’re too hard on yourself, that’s bad for you.” “You’re too rational, you need to express your emotions.” “You’re too emotional, you need to sober up or no one will put up with you.” Now I don’t need pills to tell me who I should be as well. So what if I’m all that? These are just characteristics. Depending on the context, they can actually be assets.
It’s really no use for me to know a lot about mood disorders, family backgrounds, all kinds of therapies or even MS if I don’t know my own soul. Sometimes you have to go back to take a leap forward. And right now, it feels really good to revisit that place, that person who wasn’t afraid that making mistakes might put her in a wheelchair.

Continue reading

Santa Apolónia*

Oblivion is a lure
Warm and painted in azure
But I want you to trace
The reminiscences of a face
Of stone, crying, so still
Adulterous to your will

Gray is as cold as ice
You’ve burnt it twice
On the morning ships were gone
And the world was forever dawn

*Wrote this in 2001 about saying goodbye to someone I thought I was never going to see again. As I’m trying to say goodbye in my mind to someone who probably doesn’t even remember me anymore, as I’m trying to say goodbye to 2014, and as I’m trying to say goodbye to a version of me that keeps beating herself up for not living up to people’s ideas of what I should be like, this poem came back to me, by heart. It still makes sense to me after all these years…

Work vs Chronic illness

There’s something wrong with this title. There shouldn’t be a “vs” there. It shouldn’t be a war. But most of the times it is.

Unlike many people I know who suffer from chronic illnesses, I still work full time. And I don’t complain about that. I wish I will be able to work full time for many many years. I wish to have a life that feels as normal as possible. Then why do I feel like quitting so often? Continue reading