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    A week and a half ago I was permanently laid off from my work that I had been doing since January 2021. Prior to that I was in a layoff from travel since April 2020 because of the pandemic. I started a new job this past Wednesday.

    My back is killing me. I feel numb and lack feeling about the job. I took it because I need a paycheque.

    I’m going to be 45 next month. What is clear is that I am failing as an adult. My body is continually kicking me in the butt between anxiety attacks, panic attacks, IBS attacks, and just deep depression.

    Medical help here is awful. I don’t trust any of them. I have no friends I can talk to and I won’t talk to my family because I feel brushed off.

    I had been feeling hopeful for the future. Now I’m living minutr by minute.

    I have lost 14 lbs in the past two weeks.

    I want to run away.

    I called in sick today. Legitimately. But still. I needed to heal before my next job but there isn’t the savings to allow for that. The pandemic has been expensive. When I woke up this morning I was incredibly nauseous and my spine, face, and legs felt numb.

    This isn’t a happy post. I’m sorry about that. I just have no one else to say to how unhappy and scared I am. #AnxietyAttack #Depression #Loneliness #IrritableBowelSyndromeIBS #BackPain

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    Struggling to accept acceptance

    Something that keeps sticking in my mind lately is this idea of Acceptance in the stages of grief. I think that when you are chronically ill, you end up spending months, if not years, cycling through the stages of grief. We Deny. We feel Pain—both chronic, and emotional. We feel Guilt for all the things we can no longer do. We Anger at our mounting disabilities, and we Bargain. Depression that existed before, becomes infinitely worse. Anxiety or occasional Depression becomes something more permanent, that twines itself into your mental and emotional state within this vacuum of lost time.

    We Reflect. On the past, all that we have lost, the limitations placed upon our futures. Chronic illness makes philosophers of us all. And in all this reflection many of us find that we gain new insight into what it means to live, only for this enlightenment to deepen our feelings of Despair and Loneliness.

    Acceptance can be elusive.

    Often, just as you settle into your new normal, some unforeseen event upsets the balance you managed to create out of chaos. We spend days endlessly trying. The illness is trying. The uninformed world made up of doctors, carers, spectators, friends and family, can be really trying. Trying to navigate life with a chronic illness is no easy task in a society that wants us whole, or dying, without much room for anything in between. I always think of “The Beach” when they move their dying friend out of camp, so they don’t have to bare witness to his pain and suffering. In doing so, they relieve themselves of the burden of a prolonged state of grief. Nice for those who are healthy and able to lean out and turn their heads away from suffering.

    Betrayal writ large for those of us who do not have this luxury.

    This is where I have a problem with the idea of Acceptance. I can accept that my health is what it is now, and I understand why my most of my friends have moved me out of their mental village. It’s difficult for me to live with my failing health, and when you don’t know what to say, I can see how it just becomes easier to say nothing at all. What I find Unacceptable is how much support my family, my own blood, have happily accepted from me over the years, and can’t even be bothered to read up my illness as one of my friends did of her own accord. I don’t need anyone to get the words right to show up for me, it can be as simple as showing willing.

    Trying to support someone is supporting someone.

    The other thing that makes Acceptance of my new normal difficult, is that I have yet to get any formal diagnosis. In mid January it will be 6 months since my first trip to hospital. Where my trust that I can rely on doctors to support my health was thin before, it is now almost non existent. Considering all of the many doctors I saw while in hospital, failed to recognise that I was suffering from medication induced hyperthyroidism, so that the thyroxine they sent me home with only made me worse so that I eventually broke out in angry hives one morning after taking it.

    I still have some way to go in finding out what is wrong with me, but while I still have the bandwidth to advocate for myself, I will continue to search for answers. Because I cannot Accept having no diagnosis, and no direction. The only light at the end of that particular tunnel is surely a diminishing one. I shouldn’t have to Accept fighting for my health alone, but I will shoulder it in the face of having no other choice, which I guess is a grudging kind of acceptance.

    I will keep surviving and I will keep trying for as long as I am able to do so. And in the event that I succeed in recovering some of my health, I will be prearmed with the knowledge of how “happy” people will be for me; some may even describe me as being “brave” as if that means something. And I know I can count on at least one person to tell me how well I looked while I spent this time stuck on the platform between the realms of the able and the disabled. Some people just can’t help themselves, and fail to see how this presents as the most backhanded compliment you can pay to any person who has experienced long term physical disability.

    It’s all very trying… but I guess that’s why it’s called grief.

    #Grief #StagesOfGrief #MyCondition #MyalgicEncephalomyelitis #ChronicIllness #ChronicFatigue #Hyperthyroidism #Depression #Loneliness #MightyTogether #InvisibleIllness #InvisibleDisability

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    The loneliness of chronic pain

    It's another morning and the pain has woken you up once again. It's been a decade long journey that would involve several surgeries and eventually bi lateral orthopedic braces. You were able to keep a few friends but over the years you have lost more friends and relationships than you have.
    You knew many years ago that this would happen people would stop asking you to gatherings or fun camping trips because 9 times out of ten you have to say no because of your condition..
    The pain would eventually drive you mad and now you have to take antidepressants because you started hearing voices telling you to kill yourself and the stress of being on edge everyday.
    You have never met such a formidable foe than chronic pain so you spend years and a bag of tricks trying to live and prosper within this living hell.
    This is my story but other than a couple differences it is the story of millions of people world wide so that something you constantly hear,and maybe even say to yourself it could be worse other people have worse conditions.
    Then one day you realize that the worst outcome of your neurogenic muscle atrophy is being paralyzed and now it's really serious your ability to walk and your ability to take care of yourself is at stake
    All this is just compounded because now you have no friends and you can't leave the house unless it's Dr appointment or u have to do shopping.
    I've never felt so alone in my life.
    Im not the only one on this forum to feel this way how do others cope with the endless pain and endless loneliness? I'm out of ways to cope my tool box is empty would be nice if someone had some insight.🙂🌻 #ChronicPain #neurogenicmuscleatrophy #dusabled #Deoression #tactilealodynia

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    What I Learned From My Time In The Hospital

    My time in the hospital was emotionally and physically exhausting. Although we only did light exercise- walking a lap around the ward- the mental toll of being hospitalized left my body tired. I colored and watched TV frequently, but I yearned for sleep, my mind and body aching for what my turbulent thoughts wouldn’t allow me.

    I tell you all this so that you may glimpse what the behavioral health unit of a hospital feels like. Empty, sterile and full of apathy and a deep dread. It is a void carrying within it dozens of broken people.

    It is so easy for me to remember the painful parts of my stay. The parts of loneliness and isolation. The parts where I was forced to wear scrubs because I was considered too high risk to wear my own clothes. The parts where someone watched me sleep to ensure I didn’t hurt myself in the night.

    How did I get through this? How did I get through the embarrassment and humiliation and pure pain of being hospitalized for a mental health crisis?

    Community. My parents, boyfriend and pastors called me daily. My friend wrote me a letter reminding me I “wasn’t crazy”. I got to know my fellow patients in the ward. We became a team, a mismatched family of sorts. Tied together by our grief and desire to leave.

    But I was one of the lucky ones. Not everyone received phone calls every day. Not everyone had someone advocating for them on the outside. Not everyone’s family supported them. We say mental illness is invisible, but in that hospital I saw the very tangible evidence of it. I saw the broken communities, homes and people that desperately needed support but received none. I saw the way mental illness left people isolated, alone and helpless. It impacted their physical health, their communal health, their societal health. It left them aching and defenseless. It left them facing the world alone.

    This serves to remind me of how much we need each other. How, without connection, our souls whither. We long to be known. Had I allowed myself to be known sooner, perhaps my story would be different. Regardless of how my story began, though, it was my community that changed how it ended. That kept me alive and lifted me up. May each of us know what it is to love one another, and may this push us all to bring about a deeper sense of relationship in our communities.###

    The hospital is likely still cold and sterile, but my heart is not. My heart has been cultivated by the love of my community. I hope that yours will be, too.

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    Julie Andrews Post, Inspiring

    4 Roles, Soudn of Music, Mary Poppins, My Fair Lady, Princess Diaries

    An Immediate Family Member of mine emulated all these things, as for me, I floated into this house where puppets abound, Like the Lonely Goat Herd only A Large Boobed ethnic woman with a wreath of Flowers in her hair, sets and puppets made on site by another immediate family member, both female, Julie Andrews sang songs from Mary Poppins on top of the Hills to her Sound of Music co stars, we sing for our supper and have sang on the tops of those hills too, three times, Once in a bus blaring Sound of Music songs, did you know there is a mountain range called the Seven Dwarves but we don't want to emulate Malificent. My family member's role was a late nun, really, imagine that, it influenced her parenting style all through life. It always came on TV in the 80's and 90's at Christmas and Easter and us kids would drink Apple wine, sometimes with candles on the tree, and watch.

    Next Role Mary Poppins, Chim chiminey chim chim cheroo, me and Bert always had a fireplace, Chimney sweeps come some times, we don't jump into paintings but we watch the buskers by the lake. We go to the fair, sometimes we jump into the street on which the fair takes place and live there for a few years, I am not a feminist Suffragette kinda mom, I dressed up as Mary one Halloween complete with Parasol, really, we always used to do crafts and cart dolls and toys to the pool park like Cinderella every day of the warm season for years, Made homemade baby food, used cloth diapers, that bag with everything in it, no but the cod liver oil with sugar of course, and the park with concerts on the dock while you climbed a tree or watched from the hill, High Park was it called, Secret spots, secret trees, Haunted park to walk through, Fantastical Chocolate Shop, Really

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    Borderline + Loneliness

    Borderline personality disorder is characterized by loneliness, social isolation, a fear of abandonment, poor social and communication skills, and unstable, difficult interpersonal relationships. The loneliness of living with this condition can be extremely painful, but treatments can be effective.#BPD #MentalIllness

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    Will a service dog help me? #ServiceDog #BackPain

    Hi, recently I was speaking to a family member about my pain and got suggested a service dog. This family member has often suggested using a wheelchair or walker to help me walk as I can find it difficult sometimes. I spend a lot of my time in bed due to my pain and find it difficult doing everyday activities like going to the shops, walking to the bathroom or going into school. I also suffer with severe anxiety as well and get lonely a lot. My mum works so when not being able to go to school I am left alone at home to try look after myself until she gets home. I don’t know if a service dog would be helpful and don’t want to take one away from someone who may need it more? We also live in a rented house so aren’t sure if my landlord would allow it. If anyone knows good charities in the UK which might have service dogs that will help with my conditions I would appreciate the help! Thank you! #Scoliosis #BackPain #Undiagnosed #Anxiety

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    Thought of the Day Thursday December 8th

    Every time I look in the mirror, I see someone that is sad, depressed, lonely and totally empty. This is not the same person I saw when I was much younger, that person was happy and full of life and ready to conquer any task thrown his or her way. Being bullied continuously by someone from your childhood can really have a negative impact on your adult life.#Depression #BPD #ADHD #narcissistic #narcissistic

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