Easy? Nothing about a Life with Chronic Pain is easy. Nothing.
When I was first diagnosed with all my back problems, and then realised that none of them were going to go away over time, no matter how much surgery I had or wishful thinking I put in, I went in to denial mode.
Denial. It’s probably the most dangerous emotion I had (besides anger of course!!). I went in to over drive, denied all knowledge of ever being told that I was probably going to get worse over time, that I was no longer healthy, fit and able. I blocked it all out, everything. I carried on as if nothing had ever happened. Big mistake.
Anger. Like opening a flood gate, it hit me like a tidal wave of water knocking me to my feet. Angry at myself, my past, my future, people, life, everything. What on earth did I do to deserve this life? Why was this the life chosen for me?
Giving up. Never ever have I wanted to give up before, never in my life. I have always seen something through to the end, I hate leaving anything unfinished, it has to be done, or it unsettles me. I never give up. Atleast not till now.
A way out. It would be so easy to take the easy way out. I have enough medication to knock out a rhinoceros, so it would definately work on me. I could drive straight in to a brick wall. It would all be over. No more pain, no more hurting?
I found myself having all of these emotions all at once last week. My latest GP appointment, was such a disappointment. I had built myself up so much, the anxiety took over. I went in with my notes and questions, ready and primed. What was I met with? “I’m really sorry but there’s nothing we can do”, oh and of course the”pitty” look on her face.
At a complete and utter loss at what I was going to do now, I sat in the car. Tears flowing down my face. At that moment, all I wanted to do was sleep. Sleep forever. Never wake up. And at that moment the exhaustion had kicked in, my energy drained away with each tear that fell down my face, I had nothing else to give.
I drove home, but for those 4 miles, I had talked myself in to and out of ending it right then and there so many times. I found myself listing the pro’s and con’s of carrying on with this pain, carrying on with this stupid life. Before I knew it I was home. Parked, sitting in the car, lost.
It’s been a long time since I’ve had any dark thoughts like these, but none have ever been as clear as they were at that moment.
But you know what? I drove home. I got home. I made it without driving in to a wall or a tree. Im still here.
I could never ever leave this world, not like that. I have too much to loose. But that doesn’t stop me having a wobble now and then, and if I didn’t have a wobble, I’d probably have a breakdown. I was once told “With what you have and are going through, you are quite entitled to have wobbly moments”.
Maybe that’s true. But why should it be ok to have my wobbly moments. I don’t want wobbly moments, I don’t want to think the way I do, because I never used to think this way. But I do. Not all the time, in fact very rarely, but when things get too much, I find myself questioning what the heck I’m doing here.
I have never opened up about this, never told anyone how I feel, till this week. I told my husband how i felt and he told me “not to talk like that”. And i get that, I didn’t want to talk about it or even tell him, I didn’t want to upset him, but I had to. Something was burning inside me, I had to tell him how I felt. I hated myself afterwards for being so honest, and for sharing that dark moment with him.
But if I don’t share how I feel, who will ever know how I feel. I don’t want to be treated any differently, looked at differently, or even constantly watched to make sure I don’t do anything silly, but at that precise moment I wanted help, and being honest was my way of asking.
Perhaps too honest……