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What you make it

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It’s pretty pathetic when a couple of trips to the shops and cleaning the house seems like a riotous success. That’s where we’re at though. I’ve had a good day if I am up and about and I do more than just breathe.

It’s hard to maintain a sense of self in the face of this sort of illness. I have no control. I don’t want to let this thing define me. I don’t want to be this, Gok knows I loathe the idea of wallowing in it and feeling sorry for myself. The problem is that sometimes I just feel so sad and angry and frustrated. I want to move forward and find a way to live with this, a way that will mean it is not all that I am. How does one do that when it controls everything? When you are forced to go to the doctor and beg for narcotic pain killers so that you can get some sleep?

Poor Beefcake bears the burden of being my carer and the children’s carer as well as being the sole money earner in the family. He’s practically a saint, although I try not to stress that point to him much. He really doesn’t need assistance in the ego department. I wonder if I will ever find a sense of satisfaction in just managing? In sometimes keeping the house clean enough that we can see the floors, of occasionally managing to do things that I used to do every day. I can’t picture that satisfaction.

I have my moments. I am very good at planning to do things and making lists and sometimes I even achieve the things on said lists. It is a hard lesson to learn, to be happy with what you can manage. To take satisfaction in the mediocre instead of finding it ever lacking.

So, here we go, things I did this weekend because I finally got some pain relief that works again:

* Cleaned the house a bit

* Did five loads of washing and hung them out (although someone had to carry the baskets for me)

* Found and made a list of our old cloth nappies to send to a friend

* Bought new seedlings to plant in the vegie patch

* Managed to sit in a restaurant and eat dinner

* Shopping for new bras and undies because oh dear Gok I needed them

 

Well there you have it, that’s actually pretty impressive. I’m like a superwoman or something. Of course that’s not even including things like getting up to go to the toilet, dressing myself and lifting my mug of tea so when you add all of those I am on fire!

 

 

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One response

  1. Actually, I’D be proud if I’d achieved that much in a weekend! That’s impressive without being in serious pain/on pain killers. Thank you for spending some of your precious functioning moments to make life easier for me. I’m very touched.

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