Still No Joy

What a journey I’ve been on since my breakdown in April 2016. The seizure from Hell last Thursday is feeling like a second breakdown. I feel as I did back in 2016 after the first one. I am burning with a desire to know what the fuck has happened. That’s always first on my mind. What happened? Knowing what’s happened calms me, but I won’t get any insight until Nov. 12 when I see Dr. S.

I want to see Dr. S. so, so badly, and I want to feel better. I’m in a one day at a time mind set. I hope I can get back to being happy and joyful. I took Sheba for a walk in the rain at Rollo Park, thinking we’d carry on to the pharmacy so I could pick up some Lorazepam. Sheba was keen to walk. I was not. I couldn’t get home fast enough. The Lorazepam could wait. I did not like driving at all. I felt very vulnerable and uncomfortable and that is how I felt about driving after my breakdown in 2016.

I wrote to Steve and David, two dear friends I often FaceTime with, to tell them not to call. I feel better staying on my own and staying at home. Because sleep or just lying down and keeping my eyes closed is so appealing, it was not easy to stay asleep through the night. But I didn’t care. I was happy to be in bed, cozy and warm and free from the angst of living.

I went to bed early, shocked and ashamed of my province for electing a Conservative super majority even though the party has been in shambles for years. Sigh. The nicest part of waking up this morning was my morning cuddle with Sheba. She has been doing so well, and she just got a lovely new haircut, so cuddling with her is a tremendous delight.

I fed the brood and lit a nice big roaring fire. It was 8° at 5:00 and it’s overcast. We had rain all day yesterday and more is expected today and for much of the coming week. We haven’t had rain like we may have all this week in a very long time. Once the fire was raging, I went back to bed. My eyes want to be closed as much as possible.

I still feel the same, but I thought of my foot and it gave me hope. Over a year ago, my heel swelled up and became painful—very painful at times. I changed my walk to keep it from hurting, and I’ve been awaiting minor surgery since last February. Well, the lump is still there, but I’ve become accustomed to it and I hardly ever think about it. The pain is minimal unless I bump my lump into something. I’m feeling confident that slowly, I will adjust to the dark force that has hit me, and I’ll get used to being this person who’s not joyful, and my joy may slowly build back up.

I’ve had AIDS, I have severe asthma and I’ve had a breakdown, but I’ve never given up or given into my illnesses. I’ve been a fighter and carried on. It feels good right now, to know that and that this, too, shall pass.

But first, I must get through another day. My Day.