Mental Block

 I've finally started physical therapy. I'm officially 1 week in (2 sessions) and I am absolutely encountering some of the most overwhelming intrusive thoughts of my life. I continue to try to be chipper and grateful and kind to everyone around me on the outside, but I feel myself starting to buckle inside. My knee hurts so bad during this whole process, and I'm so afraid of additional pain. I didn't realize how much my previous reconstruction impacted my mental health before, but it's all come roaring back. The fear of never fully recovering. The fear of losing my ability to be intimate. The fear of losing my ability to walk without assistance permanently. 

Yesterday was a temporary sigh of relief when my therapist told me she was pleased with my progress. Up to that point, I was afraid of being a disappointment. I guess that really is the root of my mental state currently. Afraid of being a disappointment. It's how I've governed my whole life, and my constant need to please everyone else. Getting my knee back to functional is definitely for me, but it's getting harder not to collapse in on myself with frustration and exhaustion. 

I'm judging my parenting, I'm judging my work ethic, I'm judging my ability to be a worthy partner... and I feel like I'm not successful in any of them. I'm trying to tread and keep my head above water with a knee that doesn't bend and I'm getting so physically tired. 

I've done very minimal reaching out to friends and I just don't have the mental energy to chase people around and beg them to be my friend. Someone dear to me recently said that they would only be using their phone when they need to, that they were done talking. I took that as they needed space, since a majority of our relationship has been them talking or needing something, me listening and helping. It hurt my feelings that they literally had no interest in being my friend during a difficult period of my life, because they needed to only focus on themselves (focusing on themselves is not new, thats how they have always been). Another friend did that to me before, years ago, and my response was to cut them off. That break was actually really good for me, so I haven't reached out. It's been almost 2 months, but I haven't initiated any contact. If they wanted to tell me how they were doing, they could text. If they wanted to know how I was doing, they could just ask. But they haven't, and I'm done being the one to always "check in." My circle of friends is pretty tiny right now, and I'm getting okay with it. Can't be a disappointment to my friends if I don't have any! Kidding. But I'm working on setting some new boundaries for myself and for the people I choose to let back in. I'm working on getting very comfortable with the phrase "no." 

In other news, my sister had an incredibly successful first online art show. I'm so proud of her, and she sent me a piece that was my favorite, but not included in the show. She's been encouraging me to start creating art again myself, but I just feel so uninspired. A friend from high-school recently encouraged me to create something too, about what Ehlers Danlos means to me. I don't know how to describe it with words, let alone a physical representation. I had some ideas, but I don't know how to execute! So I made a pot. A tiny plant pot. It's been sitting around collecting dust. I bought paint and brushes and sculpting tools... and my inspiration took a crap. My creative motivation is just wallowing around in the dumps with the rest of my mood. I don't know where to start... 

Maybe I'll stop some Gesso on it and just "see."

Poop.

 I'll keep this pretty brief, as I'm still recovering from the last 24 hours. I woke up yesterday determined to poop. It had been a week, and I've been taking stool softeners, so it was time. I had weened myself off my pain killers to help move things along too. 

It was a disaster. I've never felt so defeated and depressed after not being able to poop. I sobbed and went back to bed. It's very hard to concentrate at the task at hand when your leg is also on fire. 

I would just like to announce that after 24 hours of blood, sweat, and tears, laboring day and night, an enema, 6 stool softeners, 3 glycerin suppositories, and a couple gloves, I have successfully delivered "the precious cargo." I am now 15 pounds lighter, and can only assume, look fantastic. Please hold a moment of silence for my poor bum, as they were a casualty of war and the poor thing may never be the same...

Post Op

 Well, I had another knee reconstruction on the 12th. I was exceptionally nervous going into it, and I wanted to believe pain management would be a snap. It wasn't. I woke up from surgery with a leg on fire. Getting pain under control was an issue, and it wasn't until I was back at my parents tucked into bed with Norco down the hatch that I could start to settle down. Getting up to use the bathroom still fires off a mini anxiety attack, and falling asleep makes me nervous. I've started twitching when I drift off, and it's usually followed by pain. 

I've already started to wean myself off the Norco. Not off entirely, but cutting it way down so I don't run out. This is a marathon, not a sprint, so I need to pace myself and ration my pain meds. 

6 weeks immobilized. Then 4 months of PT. Meijer has told me to submit all out of pocket expenses for review. My surgery was $42,000 so any help is definitely appreciated! I do have insurance, so that helps. But yeah. This year is off to a pretty weird start. I'm trying to remain engaged at work, but I also just don't feel up to it. 

Ugh. 

New Year, New Knee!

 It's official. Knee reconstruction 2.0 is scheduled for January 12th. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't nervous. I'm currently camped out at my parents house as I feel safe and comfortable here. It's possible I'd feel even more comfortable with J, but we just aren't there yet. 

However.

I did introduce my parents to him, and he has come over a couple times at night to visit with me and make sure I have everything I need. He misses me and loves me, but also doesn't whine or pressure me about things out of my control. I hate that he's been alone in his house with just the cats. I love our little home, and it's going to be a while before I can get back out there.

D continues to whine and mope around, complaining about this being "the worst year ever." The other day he was lamenting his bad mood, saying he's been so upset and defeated for the past year and a half. A year and a half ago is when I filed for divorce... very passive aggressive guilt trip, but I wouldn't expect anything less. Since I hurt my knee he's been MORE whiney and annoying. I'm sure he's hurt I don't want to heal at his house, but I can't. I sleep on the fucking couch! And the animals climb all over me. There's zero privacy. I'll pass. 

Not sure what the plan is for recovery. 6 weeks immobilized post op, then 4 months of PT and I should be right as rain. The surgery will be reconstruction of the ligaments I ruptured with cadaver parts. I'm excited, nervous, scared, and anxious all at once. I just want to get this party started!

2022 Ends With A Bang

 Yesterday I severely dislocated my knee. My left knee. The knee I had surgically reconstructed 20 years ago. 

It was bad. I knew it was bad when I hit the ground. I popped it back and KNEW it wasn't right. This isn't one I can simply walk off. Hell, I couldn't "walk" at all. One million dollar ambulance ride later, and they confirmed I got it back in, but will require an MRI and surgical consult. 

It makes me sick to my stomach. I'm going to miss work. Surgery will be so hard on me. I'm not sure how I'll see my kids or J or how I'll manage, quite frankly. I just want to curl up on J's couch, but I can't drive. I can't do anything but lay here and be kind and gracious and pretend everything is fine while I'm rapidly dying on the inside. I have already endured 31 years of this constant pain (starting at 11), the hyper vigilance of each step I take. 31 years of fear, of pain, of no way to make it stop. 

It will never stop. 

Doug proved long ago that he couldn't handle it. That he didn't want to handle it. It was scary and hard and it was beyond him. I'm terrified it will be too much for J too. He's already on edge with so much of his own stuff. I frankly wouldn't blame him, but fuck I can't imagine a life without him.

I'm so scared. 

I debated briefly saying something on fb, but I don't need pity, and that's all it would be. It's not the social community for me as it is for others. And what point would crawling out of the social media woodwork do? Nothing. But damn I do feel pretty lonely and stuck in my own head. 

Merry Christmas

Where To Start

 I was seeing a therapist for the last several months, but they are taking a sabbatical from practicing, so I am taking a sabbatical from therapy. I'm trying to find my way through life currently, and while it occasionally feels overwhelming, I've also survived 100% of my worst days - so there's that! 

I'd like to start writing again, but I'm also not entirely sure how to collect my thoughts. I tend to have these great ideas to write about, but then when I sit down to actually start, the idea of *actually* writing is overwhelming. I'm just not sure where to start. Maybe a daily prompt would help get the ball rolling. 

Well, I can't find one I like, so lets just recap some things going on in my life. I have reconnected with a friend from high school, and it was really nice just getting a coffee and chatting about how both of us have no idea how we got where we are in our lives. I've also reconnected with another friend I used to be so close with, and it's like a breath of fresh air having them back in my life. 

I've also started creating some space in a relationship that used to be very close - for my own mental health. It has been morphing into a one sided relationship, where all they do is talk and vent and ask for things. I've been exceptionally accommodating for many years, but my tolerance and patience has worn thin. So I've been less accommodating, and they have acknowledged that they are not being a great friend and promised to do better. One week after said promises, and nothing has changed. They acknowledged that too, but they also said that they are going to treat themselves with grace, that they are doing the best they can, and that is all they can offer at this time. So I have taken a step back and will give myself a little space and grace to admit that I'm exhausted and need a break. 

Things with J continue to move along at a comfortable pace. We hold space for each other and support each other while facing life's trials, together. I feel like I really do have a partner, a safe space, and that I have the right person in my life. We still have a few obstacles to get over before we can be together publicly, mostly of my own doing, but we are working through those too. 

There's always good with the bad. And I'm willing to acknowledge both! 

You Don't Make Me

 You Don't Make Me

You don't make me smile.

You don't make me feel safe. 

You don't make me a better person.

You don't make me happy. 

But you look at me with such a warmth in your gaze I can't help but smile. 

You hold me in your arms and as I breathe you in I feel completely safe in your embrace. 

You listen patiently and hold my hand as I work my way out of generations of trauma and hurt, growing into the best version of myself. 

You look at me, you hold me, you listen to me... and my heart swells and occasionally overflows out of my eyes with what can only be called respect, gratitude, and joy. 

You don't MAKE me feel or do anything... but you show up everyday, exactly as you are and allow me to show up, exactly as I am... 

And it just works.