Browsing Tag

fibromyalgia

Would you rather listen to my story or attend my funeral?

I’d consider myself lucky when it comes to the pandemic living in South Australia, as we’re only having our second lockdown. A proper one anyway, the pizza guy doesn’t count because he lied and never had COVID.

But 3/4 the way through a week-long lockdown, I’ve struggled more this time around than before, and not because of the lockdown itself, and not being able to go out. I’ve had to go out for work a couple of times, and also to go see my dog. I took a bit of time after to go for a peaceful drive in the hills where no one was around or could get spotted. Ironically, there was a bloke walking along a dirt road in the middle of nowhere.

But I’ve struggled with, lack of human contact. Outside of work and my parents I’ve not been near anyone for two months up until it was Marissa’s birthday, which was a trip to see Space Jam 2.
While I had the best time with Tink, it’s only ever a band-aid fix for how I feel. She’s always good fun, she rushed in late wearing those viral TikTok leggings I got her for shits and giggles. I didn’t think she would wear them let along out in public, she must want to cause a riot with her ass in public, in her Lola Looney Toons jersey and pink hair. I wouldn’t have her any other way though, it’s her extension of personality that rubs off onto the boys making them lunatics too that make me laugh and smile.
It’s also super adorable watching her trying to get her feet on the seat in front like a small child, and her tiny feet.

But the contact from people has come in ebbs and flows, I’ve realised if I finally stop texting first it’s amazing how many people don’t talk if you don’t start the conversation. I guess that’s the difference between myself and other people, and I think these are the types of people who don’t realise the greatest give they can give is to simply include me in something.

The difference between now and a year ago, is I would have been dealing with both anxiety and depression. When I think about it, to me anxiety is the thing that makes you do drastic responses and irrational behaviour. But it has to be coupled with depression for it to do that. If something goes wrong the reaction might be alcohol or drugs, some form of self-harm to escape as quickly as possible. But now it feels like that’s worn off and all I’m left with is depression.

I feel no motivation to do anything anymore or care about people who don’t contact me. I’ve given up trying to organise things or catch up with people. I mean, why bother? They just don’t reply or told they are too busy to consider you worth your time.
But when you start treating people the same way they treat you, watch how they change. They become more proactive in organising things with you, getting in touch with you and seeing what you’re doing. You might react and change your plans because you’ll feel better when they give you attention. But when you start putting them off because you’ve made other plans or just don’t want to. Their behaviour changes even further, because now they know what it’s like not to feel like a priority.

I just wish people would be honest and forthcoming, and either make the effort or exit stage left and leave me to my own. Time for new friends? Or to get a bit more asshole-ish and call them on their behaviour?

But all this boils down to one thing that does bug me, I have no one to talk to. Much like the last post on here, I get talked over, ignored and left on “read”. No one’s here for me anymore to listen to me when I need it. So instead I sit here every night writing letters to ghosts, wondering how much more time I have left.

 

 

An idle mind is the devils workshop

Reflect peoples attitude and behaviour back at them, and watch how they change. Or something like that. I saw a quote similar to that but I didn’t save or screenshot and I’ve never been able to find it since. Carpe diem next time I see shit like that.

I guess that’s the view I’ve taken my few on friends and whatnot over time. Tired of feeling like a pitstop, a counsellor to them with their issues. Only talking to me when they need it, getting help when it suits them. I’ve gotten tired of peoples behaviour, especially towards myself.

The one’s who will complain about never getting a text back from someone, but never reply to me. The one’s who show no interest in hanging out, or no time for me. But have plenty of time for anyone else. So when I start to close myself off to them and they get less attention, it’s like a rubber band. They come flying back and want to catch up, want to talk about things. But I know it’s just another temporary step.

I guess this all comes from having a lot of time to myself, plenty to think about when you’re alone. But I guess that’s why I try to fill my time with several projects, the database, the app, the magic mirror, the woodwork builds in the shed, various websites. So long as I don’t leave my mind idle I can distract myself from them, and when I’m doing those things or have it planned I don’t put it off because someone’s returned to contact and want me to jump once they want to do something. I guess it’s better to be productive at something rather than do nothing at all.

Father Time

I guess time will catch up with us at any stage, I knew it would come eventually. Just a matter of, when?

I always knew that since being diagnosed with chronic illness things would eventually catch up and I’d slow down.

Cricket has always been a game that I’ve loved, and also hated. It taught me a lot, patience and pain, it’s like a cruel mistress. It’ll teach you about all the things you shouldn’t have done, every mistake and slip.

After finishing a season of cricket in 2018, I figured I was done but might try one more year. Summer 2018 rolled around and I started training, only to hurt my back and missed the majority of the first half of the season, I filled in one game to field and help the guys out. I had the taste for it again, while the days were long, hot and very tiring. Most of the time you’d be let down in some form, but other times you can end up with victory.

It wasn’t until I played a game shortly in the second half of the season, where I filled in as captain when I realised I’d be calling time on playing cricket ever again. While we won the game, the first for the guys in the season, hard fought and earned, and it was my first and only win ever as a captain. Standing in the outfield on a hot day, my body was calling it time, and we were both to an agreement that any games would no longer happen. Either from an illness, repeated injuries or lack of desire to play the game.

I still enjoy watching it, especially the long format.

Untitled Brain Splat

You know it’s been a while since you’ve blogged when you can feel the dust on your keyboard, and also that you get to smell it from burning inside your heater when you switch it on.

I don’t think there’s much structure to this post or any purpose. Other than to just dribble a little bit. It’s probably matching how my life feels currently. I’ve felt particularly overwhelmed, and I’m not entirely sure what or why, a combination of things perhaps?

I feel like I’m in search of some normalcy at the moment, work is overly busy and stressful, and demanding. My health has not been fantastic, my back is worse than ever, I’m back with regular tests on my parathyroid, dealing with my mental health. Then there’s the usual money problems, girl problems, car problems, and the list goes on. I’m trying to stay afloat, and some times it doesn’t just seem to stay there. It’s up and down and lately feeling like I’m sinking. But I can’t seem to find anything that I can cut out that’ll help me, and no one else around to really help me either.

I’m dealing with an internal identity crisis, and also what do I want in life? I ponder that a lot. But it’s always different each time. This time around it feels like a lot more factors are influencing what I want. It’s confusing, and also has my emotions all over the place. What do I do? I don’t really know anymore.

I feel tired, worn out, sore, stressed, overwhelmed, confused and exhausted.

Nanna Matt

“I’m not a doormat, I’m a welcome Matt.” – MJM

My Nanna always had this saying, I’m not a doormat, I’m a welcome Matt. I guess it came down to the fact she was friendly but not to be taken advantage of and walked over. I wish I had some of that in me, I’m still learning about not being walked over and used by people.

I’ve had several memories pop back in my head over the past 12 months from other people in my life. I do miss my grandmother, she essentially raised me on a part time basis. I used to take a trip from Victor Harbour to the City (Edwardstown to be exact) once or twice a month, via the bus, and stay at her house on a weekend.

She lived in one of those red brick housing trust places. While the house has been levelled I can still remember it like it was yesterday. The royal red shag pile carpet in the lounge room, the kerosene heater that was in front of the fireplace. The retro lino and the laminex kitchen table to go with it.

On the warm summer nights I used to lay on her bed next to her under the window, and she’d tell me all sorts of stories. How when people turned 100 they’d get a letter from the Queen. Although she never quite made it to get one herself. How when they used to go to the cinema as a girl, and you wouldn’t just see a movie. You’d get news and all sorts of other things, all of it being fictional, like going to the moon. When eventually became a reality which she got to witness. She got to see some amazing feats, but also had to endure two world wars, the great depression and a handful of other smaller wars as well.

My Nan always had a fantastic sense of humour too, never crude. But quick witted. When I was a teenager around 16 or so she started nicknaming me “Creepin’ Jesus”. Someone of my stature who made no noise, and still don’t do this day, when they walk around. Later in life she lived with us as her age was getting on, down in Victor. She would be making a cup of tea and I would come out from being asleep and scare her because I’d be standing next to her and she wouldn’t have heard me coming, “jesus”. It happens now even with clients at work. Maybe I could have been a cat-burglar given how quiet I am! 

I do miss her a great deal, I think she was always wise when it came to life. I didn’t see it back then but I certainly see it now. There are times where I wish I was able to go and ask her for advice, but unfortunately I can’t anymore, and it’s been a long time since I spoke to her. I always struggled when it came to seeing her, after her stroke I think I wanted to preserve the memory of how great she was, and all those stories she told me. Rather than to see a frail woman in a nursing home who’s stuck between the 1940’s and 1990’s on a frequent basis.

Last year would have been her 100th birthday too.

Great Scott!

Whoa, this is heavy.

There’s been a lot on the past week, and while it hasn’t been stressful it’s just been a lot to take onboard. Work has been particularly busy due to everyone needing to be able to work from home, or remotely due to the whole COVID-19 outbreak. There is plenty of work and I’m keeping busy, but also trying to keep my distance from clients in case of those who are infected and may pass it onto myself.

On Wednesday I had my first psychologist appointment, it was at least a comfortable introductory session where we could talk about what’s going on, why and how we can go about working on them. My main concerns have been the depression, which seems to have been a side effect of my chronic illness, the last six months have probably been the worst of it. Speaking with both my counsellor and my psych, we’ve ended up in the general ball park that the Fibromyalgia had the side effect of depression and anxiety. But also that it’s had another side effect of disassociating with any of the empathy that I had before towards others in my life. In turn, this has cause some friction with others, and hurt them as well.

So working on that will be my main priority, and the psych is also giving me tasks on helping me manage pain with Fibro and also mapping some new neural pathways. It’s a start, and I’ll just have to keep going.

Friday I had another follow up appointment with my GP, just to see how the anti-depressants are going, and so far no major side effects. I feel stable, while just a tad low in mood. But not as low as the Dothep I was taking. It’s certainly doing a better job. We’re going to see how it goes for another month and reassess again, and I can also look at going up in the dose if I feel I need it.

Yesterday, was also my birthday. Schfifty-five, no. Just kidding, Thirty-Seven. I don’t feel any different to be honest. Maybe a tad of anxiety around life that I’m late 30’s and not doing all the things other people do like marriage and a family. I’m still trying to find my way. But that’s been a low level lingering feeling for quite some time. I’ve never been a big birthday person, I got a message just after midnight from Riss saying Happy Birthday, in her own way too. A few from the other people that count, and the ones I usually expect won’t remember or message.

I caught up with an old co-worker/house mate I haven’t seen in a couple of years, but we’ve kept in touch online a little, and he’s only 20 minutes away. I spent the evening with my parents, a simple dinner, some cake that put me in a sugar coma until this morning, and also watched John Wick with Dad as he’s never seen it. He enjoyed that and is going to watch the other two.

Today is just kicking around the house and doing a few things, and hopefully I get to hang with one of my favourite humans later this evening.

Having a Macbook dedicated to blogging is also helping me write more frequently and also have ideas for other things to talk about.

Last Summer

I don’t know what I did last summer, to be honest I don’t think I’ve really done a lot of summer things. I know last year I played cricket, in what was likely my last full season ever. I played one game this year, but given how Fibromyalgia is, it’s a struggle for my body. I’m in pain and aches most of the time, but I try and ignore it while I’m playing. But the recovery time after can be over a week, so it’s not something I can do weekend after weekend anymore.

When I think of Summer there’s cricket, warm weather, going down the beach. Which are things I take part in, but there’s also BBQ’s and swimming, day trips to places. None of which I’ve done in years, I think it’s been at least 4 years since I’ve been in the water properly at the beach. Even then, I’d just had my tattoo so I couldn’t fully go into the water.

This summer I’ve wanted to go swimming in the ocean, and I’ve never got much of a chance. When I’m down the beach I’m usually by myself, I can’t really leave my car keys etc out as they might get stolen, and I can’t take them in the water with me or they’ll get ruined. I did think I could probably put them in a zip lock, and then into a zipped pocket and I could go for a swim. I’ve also wanted to do things like a day trip down south and go with someone. But no one really ever answers if I do ask, so I’m stuck in this limbo of going on my own and feeling like shit, and never going because I don’t have anyone to go with and feeling like shit. Which in turn, makes me end up being anxious and not going anyway because I don’t want to go alone. It’s a vicious cycle that I haven’t been able to break for a long time.

I’ve been to the movies by myself, but I guess I can deal with that because I can hide in a cinema for a couple of hours and no one will see me. But I feel disappointed because I haven’t done any of these things, and while there are people I can consider close who would do it, they seem to leave me as an option for when they have nothing else to do rather than someone they want to spend time with. It’s a shitty feeling.

Two Hundred Crappy Words a Day

I think I have tried multiple times to blog more often. I have my desktop pc and my Dell laptop, but I always find myself distracted. So I bought a cheap Macbook (that’s also pretty old) with the only intent of using it to blog, which so far I’ve done maybe 95% of the time. I had to use Google to turn off iMessage on the Mac, and also logged in to update some work info. But other than that, it’s stayed logged into my blog permanently in Chrome.

Since my diagnosis of Fibromyalgia, the use of my hands has deteriorated a bit, to the point where I can write in my journal for all of maybe five minutes and then my hand cramps up. This could also be due to me not doing a whole lot of writing onto paper anymore, and that I spend most of my time on a computer typing instead.

For now, I’m blogging and also trying out some handwriting exercises I got through Reddit that can help improve my handwriting. I guess not only am I trying to write two hundred words a day into my blog, or a blog post but also get two hundred words out on paper so I can build up my tolerance to writing with a pen again. It’s been slow going but I’m getting there.

I’m not really sure what else I can write about on here, other than just expressing my thoughts each time I feel the need. I’d like to put something up regularly but there are times when I don’t have anything to say really.

But we carry on, two hundred crappy words a day.

Getting comfortable with the uncomfortable

Two hundred crappy words a day…

One of my first counselling sessions was about making me comfortable with the uncomfortable things in my life. While it’s small things to some people, they are big ones to me. Things like receiving gifts and compliments would make me uncomfortable, and I had to get comfortable with those things. Why? Because I was taking away someone else’s happiness in doing so. I never felt like I did anything to earn them, as I’d spent most of my time doing something to earn something.

Last year I had to get uncomfortable but not offering financial assistance to those who were in a tight spot, and start doing things like sending myself on a holiday, doing things I want and giving myself that mental freedom. I guess I needed to be a bit selfish. I did that, and it was uncomfortable. I had to distance myself from people, I had to not text them, not spend time with them. Change my habits so that I could look after myself. It wasn’t a comfortable place to be in. That continued through 2019 and I kept feeling uncomfortable with a lot of things, the second major one was standing up for myself, holding people to their word and calling people out on their behaviour towards me, and that it’s not okay to treat someone like they have. It may have caused some issues but it was something I needed to do.

I’m experiencing another kind of uncomfortable at the moment and I’m not entirely sure where the cause is. But I’ve been in a low, depressive state for some time now. I would say since late 2017 is when it started. It could be from the fibromyalgia, it could be from being overwhelmed with too much going on, or given my families mental health issues. One of those could be coming to the foreground. But either way, I needed to deal with it. While I think maybe I’ve dealt with it too late, and I’ve hurt people I love and care about. I still need to deal with it and hopefully I can repair some of the damage, create that safe space for people around me again.

I’ve had to do some things that are also uncomfortable, and confronting. I’ve had people call me out on my behaviour, and I don’t think I’ve been totally aware of it. I’ve had to see my GP about a mental health plan, organise other things with my existing counsellor. I started on anti-depressants last night, I’ve been on several before but they were with the main aim of helping my Fibromyalgia and reducing the pain and effects. This time around I’m taking them for depression, mood swings, low mood and all the other shit that comes with it.

It’s been confronting, and uncomfortable. But it’s not something I can just mull on and do whenever I feel comfortable because that’s how I’ve done it in the past and it hasn’t gone to plan.

I’ve booked in with a psychologist, and started the anti-depressants. I can only see how it goes from there, there won’t be trying anymore.

Do or do not. There is no try.

twentytwenty – the year that wasn’t

If I had to sum up 2019 in one word, it would have to be “Shit”. But that might not accurately describe it, 2020 isn’t off to a great start either, and it’s not even the end of fucking February.
While I spent most of the year uncomfortable due to growth in several aspects of my life. The usual shit life throws at you was on top of that as well.

Dad having a stroke in March was the kick off, it’s left me spending a lot of time thinking about my future, and what I want. Or more morbidly, what am I going to do once I have no family left? Dad and his wife are all I essentially have. The closest after that is Riss and the boys. But I don’t stay in contact with my other siblings and have no desire too. No wife, no kids.

Later on Riss having a stroke compounded that, to nearly lose one of the closest people in my life left a horrible feeling in my gut. One that makes me feel like I haven’t accomplished a lot with myself, and also… That I wasn’t happy.

I’ve definitely been in a funk, and looking back on how long it’s been going for. Around late 2017 is probably when it went low, and it’s stayed there since. I can’t be sure if it’s from all the various medication I’ve had to take over time, or just that I went down the rabbit hole and I’ve been there since.
Having to deal with one ex this year be someone I didn’t think they ever could be, nasty and vindictive and getting lawyers involved. Was almost the icing on the cake.

But I stuck to the things I had learnt through my counsellor, my logic and it was settled in the end. But it still doesn’t make me feel good after that, I still feel horrible. Not as in a horrible person, but that someone could be so horrible. To twist the truth and even make themselves look like the victim to my own lawyer. I’m not sure that’s how lawyers work. I guess that’s what happens when you call someone out on their behaviour, they’ll lash out.

My uncomfortable space is telling people “no” and standing up for myself. Rather than have them walking over me like most have been doing, I’m no longer a bank, I’m no longer someone’s counsellor, and I’m not there for people when they have a bad day and need their behaviour to be justified.
I’ve created more time and space for myself, and now that I’m on a roll. I’m not going to stop, I have things I want to be doing, things I want to be creating. Things that are good for the soul and give me some happiness and satisfaction with what I’ve done, and I want to be able to do this without anyone’s opinion, or approval. Or telling me what I can and cannot do.

After a lengthy conversation with a friend in the UK the other week, I said I don’t find a lot of happiness, I don’t find a lot of joy in anything, to which she said “you’re depressed”. And she’s right, I would at a guess say that I’ve been avoiding it for quite some time. Where as usually if something comes along and presents me with a challenge I’ll tackle it with a solution head on.

To add further on into the year, while I’m in my uncomfortable place and dealing with bits and pieces internally. My best of all friends attempted to take her own life, triggered by a lot of stress and being stuck in a place with no way out. I think a lot of people tend to know how that feels. But I feel shitty because I wasn’t able to help her, but this time it would have been help in the form of friendship, or advice, or at least picking her up when she got down. But I was at that stage when I couldn’t be a bank or give financial help anymore. Which is something I’ve had to stop doing for my own good.

It’s been a hard road, up and down emotionally. I can be great and 10 minutes later I’m feeling infinite sadness. Is it the fact that I’ve trialled so many medications with my fibromyalgia that it’s started to play with my mind? Depression and anxiety are two of the major side effects of the chronic illness, and I even begin to question my own sanity at times, and my choices.

The worst thing is I’ve lashed out unintentionally at those I love and care about, I’ve compromised their safety, and also that I’ve been a safe space for them to go and that’s been cut off with my behaviour. Recognising it is the first step, doing something about it is the second step. I went to my GP and talked about a mental health plan, and also my counsellor as well. While I’ve been seeing one for a few years now, I’m at the stage where I need additional help for my mental health. If I don’t, it will only continue to spiral downward, affect those I love and care about. Hurt them and have them step back or be pushed away.

I struggle to grip a pen now with the pain that fibro gives me, so I took the plunge and bought myself a cheap Macbook Pro so I can have distraction free writing and use this more as an outlet. As it was said by someone in Mark Mansons novel, “two hundred crappy words a day”. So lets see how I go with two hundred crappy words a day. Not as seperate posts that is.