‘Every Day Is Exactly The Same.’ NIN

Sarah laid in bed for what felt like the hundredth day

She hadn’t been feeling well

And there wasn’t anyone around to distract her

Oh sure

Some days friends or family would call her or text her

But it was mostly out of obligation

Anyway, she didn’t want to be a bother

So she kept to herself most of the time

Although today she wondered

If it were more to protect them or herself

Sarah tried to distract herself with game apps on her phone

Matching colours and finding candy

Eventually she grew bored of them

She fell back on the bed and stared up at the white ceiling

It was strikingly white and in dark contrast to her blackout drapes covering her windows

There was a thin crack in the middle of the ceiling

How had she never noticed that before?

The more she stared at the crack

The longer it seemed to get

The longer it got

The more she wondered what would happen if the ceiling cracked wide open and collapsed on her

She laughed out loud

Picturing first responders rushing to the scene

And finding her still in her Hello Kitty pyjamas at 3 in the afternoon

What would they think about her?

Would they wonder why a 45 year old woman was home in the middle of the afternoon

In bed and wearing pyjamas of a cartoon cat

Staring up at the ceiling

With her tightly drawn blackout drapes to protect her from the outside

Or the outside from her

But her ceiling wide open

With the sun and the sky and everything else staring her down

Would they too see the irony in any of it?

With that in mind

Sarah finally got out of bed and walked to the window

And opened her blackout drapes wide

If there was going to be a great collapsing ceiling tragedy

She didn’t want it to include an ironic anecdote that the paramedics told their friends

Absolutely not

She thought resolutely

For this

She would risk inviting the outside world in

Even if it meant there was now only a thin fragile glass barrier between her and the outside world

She shuddered and went back to bed

And stared up at the crack in her ceiling

Advertisements

‘No One Here Gets Out Alive.’ The Lizard King

Each of us knows the truth behind those words

We know life is fleeting

Have seen it with our own eyes

Lives gone too fast

Lives taken too young

Life is nothing but a numbers game

By a certain age

We all understand this

And even still

We waste so much time

Time consumed by what others think of us

Time devoured by people who won’t stick around in the end

Time exhausted from living over and over again in the past

Time eradicated by worrying about the future

A future that might never come

Maybe it’s human nature

To waste

We waste food and the earths resources

So why wouldn’t we waste something as precious as time

It’s human nature not to know the true value of something

Until it’s gone

Or about to be gone

How selfish is that?

As if simply because we want it

It will last forever

Making it all the more devastating

When we begin to realize we’re running out of it

I understand that quote now

That youth is wasted on the young

Because they won’t be able to appreciate the beauty of being young and free

Until that too is gone

And like all good things

It’s over far too fast

And once it’s only once it’s really gone

That you truly understand why it even matters

‘Nobody Told Me There’d Be Days Like These.’ John Lennon

There’s a song by John Lennon

It’s called ‘Nobody Told Me’

I can’t even begin to count how many times I’ve used the lyrics to update my Facebook status

Or to caption my Instagram pictures

And most definitely whispered under my breath

It’s not particularly mind blowing

But it pretty much sums up an average day in my life

In the life of someone with mental illness

In the life of someone with a chronic and incurable illness

I wonder sometimes

If someone had told me that days like this could happen

Would it have prepared me better

Would it have armed me with the tools I need to make it through that day

Would it have given me the weapons I need to face another day

Part of me thinks so

Maybe Lennon was on to something when he lamented that he wasn’t warned for what reality would become

Because that’s the thing isn’t it?

Once upon a time in his life

In my life

Maybe even in yours

It wasn’t this way

Maybe yesterday

Maybe a long long time ago

It was different

Maybe if someone had told me

I would have appreciated it then

Or maybe I could have preserved it better

Like a photograph that keeps life frozen in time

But now I’m stuck in the present

Facing each day blind

And now I’m here

On nights like these

That nobody told me about

With only the song lyrics of a long dead rockstar to keep me company

‘Nobody told me there’d be days like these…

Strange days indeed’

‘What Matters Most Is How Well You Walk Through The Fire.’ Charles Bukowski

Sometimes life just seems so hard

I know

That seems so angst-y

It just that it seems filled with pain and sadness and so much heartache

That sometimes life just doesn’t seem worth it

After all what’s the big reward?

It’s supposed to be in life itself

Isn’t it?

But what if, it’s not?

What if you don’t reap the rewards?

Sometimes life with MS and anxiety and depression feels like this

It feels like all effort

And no great pay off

Maybe it’s just me

I don’t know

Maybe I can’t find happiness in the little things

Or maybe the happiness just isn’t enough

It doesn’t matter

What does matter?

‘What matters most is how well you walk through the fire.’

It matters if you can find the strength to persevere in spite of it all

It matters if you can find the courage to keep going when it feels like there so many more bad days than good

You matter even when you feel like you don’t

And that’s probably the hardest thing to remember

Especially when you keep trying to douse the flames from burning up around you

Instead of walking through them

(A picture of happier days 😏)

‘No Dress Rehearsal. This Is Our Life.’

11 years ago

October 27, 2007

We got married

Still a few years shy of 30 years old

We thought we had it all figured out

How little we knew

We had yet to learn a lot

To experience so so much

We thought we knew it all

Life, predictably knew better

And yet

Even though

It was never perfect

It was occasionally heartbreaking

It was often difficult

It was filled with laughter

It was sometimes chaotic

It was sprinkled with passion

It was usually me needing help

It was intermittently explosive

It was frequently unexpected

And it was always…

Always…with you

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Throw back 11 years ago

“What if all that keeps you trapped in that invisible boxing ring is the belief that you have to keep fighting in order to win?… What will happen to your opponent if he suddenly has nobody who will fight him?” Courtney Perry

Once upon a time

I started having panic attacks

I hated them so vehemently

That I swore to fight them at all costs

I swore to do whatever I had to to to win this battle

So I trained

And so I won many battles

But eventually I grew tired

I grew tired of always fighting

Being on guard 24/7 was crippling

And life was becoming one giant battlefield

One day

The panic attacks came back

They had grown stronger than before

I shrank my world to fit in my condo

Hoping if I stayed off the battlefield

The panic attacks would see I was no longer in the fight

They’d turn around and walk away

And leave me alone

Instead, they found me there

In my safe place

Banging on my doors and windows

Rattling me to my very core

I was so afraid

I hid in the darkness and shrank into the corner

Days passed this way

I could hear them getting louder and louder

And just when my door sounded like it was going to break apart

And my mind was going to snap into a million pieces

I sprang to my feet

I frantically threw open the front door

And yelled for them to fucking do their worst

I screamed that I wasn’t afraid of them

I didn’t like them

They knew that

I never would

But I had grown so tired of living in a constant state of fear

That I realized I’d rather come face to face with them

And if they destroyed me

Well

Then at least it would be over

The funny thing was

That when I opened the door

No one was there

The hall was eerily silent

I was stunned

I looked around

Sure that they were just hiding

To catch me at my most vulnerable

I looked in corners and under crawl spaces

Still I was alone

I was bewildered and shaken

I sank to my knees in the quiet hallway

And I started to cry

Big fat tears rolled down my face

I wasn’t crying because I was afraid

Not this time

This time was different

I was crying because all of this time

All of these years

I had expended so much energy and strength

I had used up so much of myself

When all I had ever needed to do

Was to open that fucking door

—–

Life-changing article: Read this!

This Isn’t An Ode To Panic Disorder…

I’ve hated you since I started experiencing panic attacks

No

Even before that

I hated you when I saw what you did to my father

How merciless you were

I hated how vulnerable you made him

I hated how scared you made me feel

When I started having my own panic attacks

I wasn’t unsure or surprised by your arrival

I was just upset

I was angry that I couldn’t fend you off

Especially after having seen first hand the damage you caused

I was frustrated

And you grew stronger

I had my very first panic attack waiting to board a plane

That sense of helplessness and feeling of being trapped

Allowed you to flourish

And you grew stronger

I got more frustrated

I became depressed

At what I perceived as my failure

Failure of what?

Outrun you of course

Break the pattern

And you grew stronger

Throughout the years and the numerous times you showed up

You stole bits and pieces from me

From my identity

From the experiences I stopped myself from having

I can’t count how many things I’ve missed out on because I was just too damn scared of you

And you grew stronger

I didn’t know that it was me who fed you

I didn’t know it was me that built you up

I vacillated between fighting you and being so terrified of you that I hid behind medications and isolation

I’m bone tired of fighting

I’m drained of the energy it takes to be afraid

I’ve been living with you my entire life in one form of another

You haven’t killed me

Yet

I was hurt because of you

The people around me were hurt because of you

But it was I, who allowed that to happen

Not you

You were never strong

It was always me that was strong

Always fighting against you

And

Hiding when self preservation took over

I used so much energy trying to not let you win

That I didn’t realize

I could end this epic battle

By waving a white flag

I spent so much time hating you

When I should have been understanding you

Because you were struggling like me

You were the outcome of the bad day, bad week, bad month that I’d had

You were what my body needed to expel to move on

I was too consumed by the symptoms you gave me

The shortness of breath, the stomach cramps, the heart palpitations, the depersonalization

To see that those symptoms came up because I dreaded your arrival

I’m sorry that I didn’t see you for what you really are

You’re me

And we’re in this together

So

If my body and mind feel like they need to have a panic attack…

Well I guess it’s ok

We will get through this

It’ll be uncomfortable

But it will pass

Just like it always has

And I promise to try not to be so hard on you

If you promise to do the same

Who knows?

Maybe one day

I’ll even write a poem about how grateful I am for your existence

I’d tell you not to hold your breath

But we both know I’d be lying

So I’ll just say this

I get it, Panic Disorder

I really do

I’m only sorry that it’s taken me so long