I’m groggy today. My head feels as though brick dust is swooshing side to side against my skull and dripping into my blood stream bit by bit, building up, until I am a house of exhaustion.
I’m a bit down on my body at the moment.
Yesterday my Nan said I looked pregnant (bare in mind I ate bread which is not like me) I also ripped through my last pair of leggings, I have had to throw some underwear out because they won’t go over my butt and I can physically see this weight is on my thighs and chins. I have also gained 4kg in 72 days.
I was quickly sent back to hating myself on realising this. I am now freaking out it’s the pregabalin but truth is I have continued to eat like a pig; without shame of restraint. I justified it during the move but I am settled now. There is no excuses to carry on eating like this or to keep inside the house avoiding people. I am in self destruct mode and I hadn’t noticed until now.
I am letting myself go. I am falling away from my true nature. A nature of fiery and feisty confidence and getting things done without help or hinderance. I used to be so motivated. I used to care far too much about my weight (not so much health) and now I’m more worried about making my heart beat because I link it to seizures but the fact is, I’m pretty sure my seizures are the result of lack of blood flow. Same as why my memory may be declining. I sit to often and maybe I feel faint when I’m walking because my brain and heart are like ‘holy shit. Look blood flow and movement. I can’t remember how to deal!’ But in saying that, fits more often occur when laying in bed doing nothing.
My mobility scooter arrives Thursday. I am now thinking ‘don’t buy one. You are lazy and must force yourself to walk.’ But the fact is I do still have bad days and I need to get out on them days more than others. I will walk when I am well. I will take up running again, outside the house and manage myself better but I need that security.
I don’t have real answers for my seizures or why my body is reacting this was to any stress, be it getting to warm to a visit from my father. I don’t get it and neither do the medical professionals.
When I see my GP about my pain this month, I must ask for a referral to Dr Prof M Edwards. I need answers because I can’t carry on living this way. I refuse to accept this disability is the thing that takes me down. I refuse to believe it. I’m pretty sure I’m probably not as sick as I think. I have just allowed myself to believe I am delicate and fragile and incapable of doing the things I used to do. I let myself convince me that a small flare would become something bigger. If I had believed it was a temporary I’d be fine.
My heart stuff started when I still smoked weed. I think after I stopped I was so paranoid every time my heart sped up or I noticed it beat I bring myself into a panic. I did this last night!
Either way, I know I’ll get better. I don’t know how or when but I will. I trust the universe to surprise me, as it has so many times before.