So, it's 2:08 am and I'm still awake. Not really insomnia this time around... nope this is just good, old-fashioned, night-owl-ish-ness combined with a healthy dose of I-don't-give-a-damn.Nessie over at lipstick, perfume, and too many pills gave me this sweet blog award, which I will try my darnedest to post on tomorrow. Thanks, Nessie! Truly the best part of this, though, was checking out all the other blogs that Nessie gifted the award too because, damn, this girl could be a blog curator if there were such a thing as a blog museum. I'm just having a blast going through these puppies. There's RA Guy, who draws comics, of which I am ALWAYS a fan (Hyperbole and a Half much?). Amanda over at All Flared Up is FUNNY in that awesome, irreverent sort of way, which can seem taboo sometimes when you're feeling as crappy as we sometimes do. And Helen from Pens and Needles is starting to feel like my long-lost friend the more I read her posts. So really, much fun to be had tonight on the interwebz.
But I think what I like best about reading blogs from other people with chronic illness-- and especially other young, single people with chronic illness-- is the fact that they make the same mistakes I do. And that sometimes you can't even really call them mistakes because it's not like we took a gamble. I *know* what happens when I drink, and I *know* what happens when I stay out too late, and I *know* what happens if I push myself too hard for too long. Yeah. I get it. The whole fragility thing. Womp womp womp.
But, sometimes, I just don't care. I'm sorry. Sometimes, if I'm not feeling my worst, and I have that anxious, "gotta get out of this house-," "my God I'm 24 years old and I never have any fun"- feeling... well, I'm going to get out of this house and have some fun. And sometimes it's a mistake. And sometimes it's the best thing I could have done for myself. Because whether or not I get better after all, I'm not waiting around for my life to start. It's happening. Right now. Right this very freakin' minute. And sometimes the threat of a crash just doesn't measure up to the threat of reaching 25 and thinking, what the hell did I DO last year?
So that's where I am right now. Please don't judge me if one day my posts are about how I can't get out of bed, and the next day I'm on my way to a series of events. Or sharing dumb stories about the stupid things people say in bars. Or taking overly ambitious road trips. Or even chaperoning a church youth camp in the middle of this heat wave (something I'm actually considering for next week, depending on how these stomach issues pan out). It doesn't always mean I'm feeling that much better (though sometimes it does and that's awesome); it just means I'm juuuust enough better to start living my life again.
Wow, this is so weird but you seem to be going through the EXACT same thing as I am. I swear everytime I read your posts i feel like I should meet up with u if I'm ever over there!
ReplyDeletewoohoo for inspirational posts!
So good to hear from you again, Robyn!I was worried about you when you didn't post for a while - that may have been a while ago since I just returned from vacation last week, so I've been out of touch with the blogging world for the past month. I'll have to read more because I'm dying to hear how your Lyme treatment is going. My almost-16 year old son was just diagnosed with Lyme, bartonella, and babesiosis.
ReplyDeleteAs for today's post, you go, girl! I got CFS when I was 37. I was a wild girl in my teens and twenties, and I can't even begin to imagine what life with CFS must be like for you and other young people (Ok now I sounds old!). Really. If you feel up to having fun once in a while, go for it!
Sue
I totally get it Robyn. Sometimes you need a mental health day. Like you, I was young when I got sick. This illness totally altered the landscape of my 20's and 30's. I don't say wasted. Because I learned a lot and still have managed to have a life in spite of being sick. It's important to feel you still have some choices. For instance, the ability to choose to stay up all night, rather than being unable to sleep is understandable.
ReplyDeleteWhen that itchy gotta-get-outta-here feeling strikes, it's totally smart to do something stupid. Sometimes you need to do something crazy to stay sane. Good for you!
I worry that if I go out and enjoy myself, people (who I'm not close to) will see me and think I'm all better. Why do I care about those people?!
ReplyDeleteI HATE how I'm in my 20s and I can't just go out all night like I used to. Good for you for still trying- I can't wait to read all about it.
Robyn - I call this the 'tension line' we have to walk every day. It is the hardest part of being ill in my opinion. Trying to find the balance between resting while at the same time getting out. One we need to do for our bodies the other for our soul and mind.
ReplyDeleteI will never judge you for having to make such hard decisions. I think you are amazing!
Hi everyone! I don't normally mass-respond to comments, but you're all SO sweet and supportive, and I just wanted to thank you. It's times like these I wish I had that sweet wordpress feature of being able to respond to everything individually. Le sigh.
ReplyDeleteMaria- Yes, we should TOTALLY meet up if we’re ever in the same country (or hell, the same hemisphere would do…). You’re awesome!
Sue- Thanks for the support! I’ll definitely add some stuff about my Lyme treatment soon. I’m sorry about your son! It’s a hell of a disease, but at least there’s a treatment—definitely good news.
Maya—Hi there and welcome! “Itchy, gotta-get-out” is exactly the sentiment I feel sometimes. I usually call it that “crawling out of my skin” feeling where I have to go night running, or dancing, or just do SOMETHING active and wild and a little crazy. Sometimes sanity trumps my health! Balance, always balance…
FG—Hi, I’ve missed you! I get that fear too! Because then the next time I’m sick and can’t go out, I get the eye rolls, and the whispers about excuses… but you know what? My close friends tend to give me a lot of slack and the ones that demand I impress them aren’t really worth our limited energy. I know it sounds hollow sometimes when you’re dying to be all you feel you should be, but it’s really true. That’s why it’s cliché, haha.
Dominique—EXACTLY. It’s like being on a tight rope. It’s hard to explain that to people whose margins of error are slightly wider than the average “sick person,” but everyone needs balance—my consequences can just be a little heftier.
Robyn,
ReplyDeleteI'm totally behind on this, but I hope you're doing better! And sometimes it feels good to just say "eff you" to chronic illness and do whatever. Not all the time, but sometimes.
And your "womp, womp, womp" made me laugh out loud. Trying to explain why was fun.
Sometimes it's a mistake and the best thing you can do for yourself all at once. Feeling like crud later may be worth it if I can have fun now. Plus, if I don't, I will lose. my. mind. The worst part is that the guilt trip is usually coming from myself.
ReplyDelete