I know it is going to take time, but I just wish that there was even a slight sign that things are improving, in fact, I would even be happy to know things are changing. I know that it may sound as though I am being impatient, but what I am looking for is subtle, not a miracle, all I am waiting for is to feel something different inside of me. I am so used to listening to my body and I know exactly how my insides work and react to different foodstuffs, but nothing, not even the tiniest thing feels any different. What happened in January is still so clear in my head that I am just scared that it may be repeated, if my guts were to stop that badly again, well I would feel as though I was back of the beginning and I don’t want to go there. On the upside, I have gone two days without the slightest indication that my body doesn’t like the Psyllium, so today I am going to up the dose and see how that goes. I have already eaten the pancakes I made yesterday, so now I know that they keep overnight in the fridge without any problems, the possibilities are opening up.
It has been such a long time since I cooked anything really, that it feels like a total lifetime ago that I last had to think about how to make this or that. Cooking used to be a total pleasure for me, I was that person you see on TV who used to bake all their bread, cakes and biscuits, who would spend hours just making one meal and took great pleasure in seeing those around me enjoying what I had made. I gave up because it was just too exhausting, even sitting on my perching stool the whole process of making anything that required more than two steps landed up being such a trial that the joy aspect vanished. That hasn’t changed that much, yesterday when I made my first double batch I found my arms deciding to die on me as I beat together the egg and milk, but it was an experiment. I do have a mixer that can take that effort out, but it was hardly worth getting it dirty for that small quantity. If I can make large batches even to the point of possibly freezing some, well then the amount of dishes, doesn’t matter quite so much. I did actually notice that this whole experimenting as to what I can do to make the inedible edible had an odd excitement about it. The fact I couldn’t find the information I wanted online and on my very first experiment of my own actually worked, had an oddly satisfying feeling, one I had forgotten even existed. I have always taken pride in working things out for myself, being the person who turned the apparently either impossible or the time consuming, into the simple and fast. I hadn’t realised that I missed it at all, but when you feel that pride, that jump inside you, that swells into a eureka moment, is such a rush and I haven’t felt it for such a long time.
I had resigned myself to my world of routine, of every day being exactly in every single detail identical to the one before or the one to come. I had adapted to living that way and I suppose I had buried that desire to achieve the unknown and buried it so well, that I didn’t even miss it. It didn’t matter if it were work, cooking, dressmaking, knitting, embroidery, DIY, building computer programs or anything else you could name, if I found that I was faced with something I had never done and had never even seen someone do, it never stopped me from trying until I got it right. The list of things that I have over the years taught myself to do is almost never ending, my official education was the biggest waste of money ever, I can’t think of a single thing that I was taught that I have ever used, but what I have taught myself has meant I could always earn money and I could always produce everything I needed, from clothes to a home that looked the way I wanted. My PRMS stole all of it, not from my mind, but from my life, I don’t think that since I was made redundant that I have really created anything of physical worth. Yes, I have created this blog and everything that I do online and I know that has value, but that is a handful over several years, it used to be at least a handful almost every month. I don’t fully understand how I managed to change myself from one person into another, but I did it without too much pain, yet suddenly I miss it, because of one single tiny experiment that went right.
It simply hadn’t struck me until now, just how much I have really changed, how different not just my life but I am, from my past. I had simply brushed it all aside and said “here we go build a new life, one that you can survive in”, something I have done over and over, but no matter which me you look at until now, that creative side was always there, always working on something or other, now it works on nothing. I have lost one huge part of my life, one that was such a driving force to all my incarnations and I hadn’t even really notice it going. Self-preservation is a force that I don’t think any of us appreciate enough. My mind had clearly packaged away that side, quietly and neatly so that it didn’t hurt me in any way and in a way that meant I didn’t even notice it happening, whatever way you look at that, that is amazing. Clearly I knew that I had stopped doing all these things, that I could no longer sit and knit all night or that I hadn’t been able to cook a meal, but what I hadn’t noticed vanishing was the desire to do any of those things, that’s what is packed away, that desire that drove me so hard always. The greatest drive I ever feel now is the one that drives me to bed.
Acceptance is an odd thing, we do it on so many different levels, but it appears we also do it on levels that we don’t even know we are doing it. I can remember that drive, I can remember being that person but I didn’t notice her leaving. What I don’t really know is, is it a good thing or a bad thing that she’s been woken up? Physically, I can’t go back and be her, I don’t have the eyesight, the dexterity or the energy, so what can be the good of even remembering. Yet here I am, with this spark of excitement, this feeling that I am going to be doing things that I don’t know right now I can do, which doesn’t fit with not being able to do anything.
Read my blog from 2 years ago today – 23/05/13 – Weighing it all up
Adam went out on his bike last night the first time since the end of last summer, he has always seemed to think that just cycling for 40 minute when it is both good weather and he feels like it, should be enough to make him lose weight. You would think that his ever growing waistline, even the one he claims as his waist which is below his extended bump of a stomach, would be enough for him to see that it just isn’t……
IT’S ONLY BEEN 2 DAYS. USUALLY THINGS GET WORSE BEFORE THEY GET BETTER.YOU ARE MANAGING TO KEEP THE DOSE DOWN AND NOW INCREASE IT. IT WILL WORK. PATIENCE IS A 4 LETTER WORD,BUT TRY.YOUR POSTS HAVE BEEN ALMOST CHEERFUL, THE LAST TWO DAYS.THAT SPARK, YOU ARE FEELING, USE IT TO DO SOMETHING NICE FOR YOURSELF, OR FIND SOME OTHER EASY RECIPE.SUMMER IS HERE.FIND A WAY TO MAKE A COLD DRINK WITH YOUR PSYLLIUM. I AM GOING THROUGH A NASTY PHASE,WHERE JUST BREATHING MAKES ME WANT TO GIVE UP AND DIE.YOU, PAMELA ARE MORE THAN JUST A SPARK. YOU SPARKLE AND MAKE ME FEEL A BIT BETTER…….NEVI
I don’t know how to respond – I find this enormously powerful, moving & evocative, yet at the same time deeply disturbing, moving, even depressing – in the way that only those who live with it can understand depression. It all sounds so familiar and yet is something of an epiphany. I can’t relate and yet I recognise the same elements that I experience in my bi- polar state. What is this merry-go round of up and down and round and round that we know as life?
Thank you for sharing – I can’t say more right now other than that politics fade into insignificance and yet become more important. Perhaps that’s just the paradox of life – that from the moment it commences we begin to die.