Hi all. I’m still here. I am still trying to kick this respiratory crap.
I’m not coughing quite so much and I’m not running a fever, but I’m still fighting to get the mucus-y crap out of my chest. My head feels like I’m swimming underwater. I was hospitalized with a severe case of pneumonia last year, and I think the damage/scarring on my lungs/reduced lung capacity I’ve had since then isn’t making it any easier for me to kick this. I called my doctor again today to see if he can prescribe something to help with the massive amount of drainage/sinus congestion. Ick.
I have been trying to take my nurse practitioner friend’s advice as much as I can and just stay in bed. I stayed on the couch in my pajamas literally all day yesterday. I did get out for a short while today, to a friend’s apartment just up the street (I am not running a fever so figured it’d be safe) but just getting up and dressed and going over to his place wore me out, despite the 14 or so hours of sleep I got, so I went home after we watched one movie.
I live alone. Normally, I don’t mind it, but when I am sick for more than a few days it’s really hard for me, because I am naturally very extroverted, and too much alone time tends to make me very, very depressed and anxious. If I don’t stay busy with enough external stimulation, my mind goes off to scary/sad places. Add in being ill which already depletes my emotional resources, PLUS the high dose of Prednisone they had me on for the past 5 days, PLUS being on my period (FUCK YOU, STEROIDS, FOR THROWING OFF MY CYCLE BY A WEEK) and I’ve had a recipe for emotional disaster. I’ve had crying spells on and off for the past 4-5 days, but I am trying to reach out to friends on the phone when they come so they can help me talk through it and reel myself back in. I am coming to terms with the fact that most of my fears are not rational and not anything that I have real true tactile evidence of. My mantra, as someone commented on one of my other posts, has been “everything that’s going on is distorting reality, you are sick, everything will be okay, you’re not in danger, your boyfriend cares about you and you deserve to be loved.”
My friends have been wonderful at reminded me how awesome they think I am, that I deserve happiness, and that they think Boyfriend truly adores me. It is nice to hear, but I am working at believing that for myself. Self-loathing runs deep. I was on the phone with my friend Tami today and she pretty much hit the nail on the head- “you can’t believe that someone could love you enough to be okay with canceling a vacation to look after you while you’re sick.” That knocked the wind out of me, but it’s true.
The self-loathing beliefs are not rational, and they are not serving me right now, at all. Hating who I am is a learned habit. It’s something I was taught to believe about myself- that if I make myself as small, unnoticeable, compliant, and un-needy as possible, maybe someone will accept me, but not until then. It’s not true. It’s a lie I was told so that people in my life who were supposed to be there for me but WEREN’T wouldn’t have to be held accountable.
Boyfriend has called and texted me a few times to check in, every day to every other day. I told him I missed him and he told me he missed me too. I asked him about the money for the trip, and he said I can pay him back after my first paycheck, so I can use some of the money I have now for my therapist appointment or the course on dealing with negative self talk. I told him I had been wanting to make plans for us to do lunch or coffee sometime this week, but that I wasn’t sure when I’d be feeling well enough to get out again. He told me not to worry about it and that he just wanted me to take care of myself and that he would be here, and that he would see me soon, when I’m better.
I understand that trust is a choice, and choosing to not trust has consequences that could sabotage this good thing that I have going. I am choosing to believe that he really cares about me. I am choosing to believe that I found someone who is good for me and who doesn’t want to hurt me. I am choosing to believe that he will be patient and kind if I continue to take care of myself. When we were in Colorado, I woke up one morning coughing so hard and crying because I felt so bad, the bed and the floor were all littered with tissues and, and he just came up stairs and crawled into bed with me and brushed my hair out of my face and held me and rubbed my back. I thought in that moment “I could really love this man.” and I do. I really do. It scares the hell out of me, but I do. And I have, for awhile.
I want to learn to like myself better. I want to be able to focus on all of the good things I have to offer instead of the pain and liabilities that I feel like my past saddled me down with. I am smart. I am passionate about helping others. I am good at helping people feel welcomed and at ease. I can forgive those that have hurt me. I am empathetic and understanding, and most everyone gets along with me. I give good hugs. I can cook really well. I’m intuitive and strong. I am curious about the world around me. I have a very developed sense of what’s right and wrong. I am a good, kind, caring, considerate partner, and I deserve the same.
His mom seems to really like me too, so hopefully that’s another good sign.
Alright. Back to bed with me. You guys have been so wonderful at keeping me company and helping me stay grounded through the insanity of the past few weeks. I love you all very much. Thank you, GT.