Not this mind and not this heart
And after the storm,
I run and run as the rains come
And I look up, I look up,
on my knees and out of luck,
I look up.
I've known something was really wrong for a long while now, and I've known it was all me. The rest of my life has gotten to be pretty fantastic right now, actually, but I could never seem to be doing what I wanted to do. I could always blame the fibromyalgia, but that didn't ring true. There was something wrong.
I started, after a long period of time, to be able to recognize what it was- I've been depressed. Probably fairly seriously depressed for a long time, maybe since I've been sick, but certainly starting around 2009. I'd just managed to hide it, because...well, lots of reasons. I'm still untangling that part. I've been starting to realize some of the causes by picking apart what I've been avoiding and why, what sends me into fits of anxiety, what makes me freeze up. Most of all, I've been trying to separate the emotional responses from the physical. That's been the hardest, considering the fact that my hormones are hardly kind. But a long period of observation, with the addition of this paleo diet making me feel physical more 'even'- that's helped.
Night has always pushed up day
You must know life to see decay
But I won't rot, I won't rot
Not this mind and not this heart,
I won't rot.
And I figured out, at least the start of the whys and hows of getting to this point. I won't go into them now- there's a lot to write already, and I think I'll save that for other days I'm working things through. But I'll say this- there were events in my life that I've never gotten over, and never given myself fully time to grieve properly over and work out of my system. There were events in my life that I wasn't ever fully aware of, although I still felt them. I ignored or 'powered through' everything I could, because I was trying to prove that I could handle both those and my fibromyalgia on my own, because I was so determined to be independent. I didn't want to be depressed, because it would make my fibro worse, so I just...wouldn't let myself be (that's how that works, right?). Meanwhile, I kept overdoing it, and every time my body gave out- or worse, my mind- I would berate myself. When I was relying on a friend or family member, I would make sure they had to do the least amount possible for me, even if it made me worse.
And slowly, all of the things that I used to love doing started to drain away from me. I stopped reading, I stopped writing, stopped listening to music, my roleplaying even slowed to a trickle because I just didn't want to deal with most people. I became a machine, and all things were weighed against whether they would help or hurt my health. The tiniest mistake would send me spiraling back. I had to tread carefully.
And I took you by the hand
And we stood tall,
And remembered our own land,
What we lived for.
I never admitted, I think, just how difficult what I was handling to those I was close with, not up until now. Oh, I would explain my pain...but that's what it was- an explanation of why I couldn't handle something or an early precaution to letting someone down. It was so I wouldn't work myself up over 'messing up' in the future (health was always in mind). Considering what I went through at the beginning of my illness, I didn't expect people to want to actually talk anything out with me. To be fair to myself, I'm not sure if holding back was a bad or good decision yet- I was really hurt at the beginning of all this, when I didn't.
With Dan, though, I've been able to discuss and be heard and understood. He's been patient and kind enough to let me open up, and caring enough to continue to watch over me. He even managed to convince me I'm not a burden, somehow. He's been invaluable in helping me figure this out.
It's been ten years since I started my first Livejournal, detailing the breakup of my second major relationship (my first fiancee). It's been thirteen years since I first got sick with mono and then never got any better. And I think maybe I've wasted enough time ignoring the extent with which both of these things, together, had hit me.
Most of all, though, I'm tired of being afraid of writing. So I think I'm going to start with writing about this.
And there will come a time, you'll see, with no more tears.
And love will not break your heart, but dismiss your fears.
Get over your hill and see what you find there,
With grace in your heart and flowers in your hair.
I run and run as the rains come
And I look up, I look up,
on my knees and out of luck,
I look up.
I've known something was really wrong for a long while now, and I've known it was all me. The rest of my life has gotten to be pretty fantastic right now, actually, but I could never seem to be doing what I wanted to do. I could always blame the fibromyalgia, but that didn't ring true. There was something wrong.
I started, after a long period of time, to be able to recognize what it was- I've been depressed. Probably fairly seriously depressed for a long time, maybe since I've been sick, but certainly starting around 2009. I'd just managed to hide it, because...well, lots of reasons. I'm still untangling that part. I've been starting to realize some of the causes by picking apart what I've been avoiding and why, what sends me into fits of anxiety, what makes me freeze up. Most of all, I've been trying to separate the emotional responses from the physical. That's been the hardest, considering the fact that my hormones are hardly kind. But a long period of observation, with the addition of this paleo diet making me feel physical more 'even'- that's helped.
Night has always pushed up day
You must know life to see decay
But I won't rot, I won't rot
Not this mind and not this heart,
I won't rot.
And I figured out, at least the start of the whys and hows of getting to this point. I won't go into them now- there's a lot to write already, and I think I'll save that for other days I'm working things through. But I'll say this- there were events in my life that I've never gotten over, and never given myself fully time to grieve properly over and work out of my system. There were events in my life that I wasn't ever fully aware of, although I still felt them. I ignored or 'powered through' everything I could, because I was trying to prove that I could handle both those and my fibromyalgia on my own, because I was so determined to be independent. I didn't want to be depressed, because it would make my fibro worse, so I just...wouldn't let myself be (that's how that works, right?). Meanwhile, I kept overdoing it, and every time my body gave out- or worse, my mind- I would berate myself. When I was relying on a friend or family member, I would make sure they had to do the least amount possible for me, even if it made me worse.
And slowly, all of the things that I used to love doing started to drain away from me. I stopped reading, I stopped writing, stopped listening to music, my roleplaying even slowed to a trickle because I just didn't want to deal with most people. I became a machine, and all things were weighed against whether they would help or hurt my health. The tiniest mistake would send me spiraling back. I had to tread carefully.
And I took you by the hand
And we stood tall,
And remembered our own land,
What we lived for.
I never admitted, I think, just how difficult what I was handling to those I was close with, not up until now. Oh, I would explain my pain...but that's what it was- an explanation of why I couldn't handle something or an early precaution to letting someone down. It was so I wouldn't work myself up over 'messing up' in the future (health was always in mind). Considering what I went through at the beginning of my illness, I didn't expect people to want to actually talk anything out with me. To be fair to myself, I'm not sure if holding back was a bad or good decision yet- I was really hurt at the beginning of all this, when I didn't.
With Dan, though, I've been able to discuss and be heard and understood. He's been patient and kind enough to let me open up, and caring enough to continue to watch over me. He even managed to convince me I'm not a burden, somehow. He's been invaluable in helping me figure this out.
It's been ten years since I started my first Livejournal, detailing the breakup of my second major relationship (my first fiancee). It's been thirteen years since I first got sick with mono and then never got any better. And I think maybe I've wasted enough time ignoring the extent with which both of these things, together, had hit me.
Most of all, though, I'm tired of being afraid of writing. So I think I'm going to start with writing about this.
And there will come a time, you'll see, with no more tears.
And love will not break your heart, but dismiss your fears.
Get over your hill and see what you find there,
With grace in your heart and flowers in your hair.