Ever since I was pregnant with Tatoe (he's two and a half now), some moderately bad health things have been happening. They are mostly stabilized (solution 1: don't have any more children), but I have also, for the last three years, woken up in pain somewhere between every day and twice a week. This has done bad things to my little hamster brain. I don't know what the proper psychological term is; some disastrous mix of aversive conditioning, catastrophizing, and learned helplessness.
Some of it can be managed by being incredibly strict and rigid - specifically, food. Words can hardly express how unpleasant I find my current relationship with food - one of fear, resentment, and boredom in equal parts, with occasional sleepless red-ant-gnawed misery, combined with a reasonable but socially awkward reluctance to eat anything anyone else cooks, ever.* I am always afraid it is going to get worse (even though it's not, right now) and then I literally don't know what I would do. I feel helpless because I have a realistic belief that this may never get any better.
When I am in pain, I fear it happening over and over far out of proportion to the actual pain. As I've had histamine reactions** to at least two opiates, my pain is never 'adequately managed'. I am afraid that my image of myself as a strong, healthy, competent person is wrong, has changed, will never be true again. I try to tell myself that my fear spiral is not rational. I've mostly stopped getting sick all the time. That's better. I don't wake up in pain every day. I have less trouble sleeping. I stopped losing weight. That's better too. But still, every time it gets out of equilibrium, I have an irrational, panicked fear that it will never go back.
(I am not actually as depressed as this sounds. I just had a really bad week.)
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* Aside from my mother, my sister, and Nicole, who lives 900 miles away now.
** It turns out that "I want to scratch my entire skin off and I cannot sleep for more than five minutes" is actually worse than just being in pain.
I get that a little bit. (I had similar issues-- but much less intense-- when Kiddo finally started sleeping through the night) I have no advice, but many hugs to give.
ReplyDeleteI'm sorry you've had a bad week. I'm convinced stress makes your health worries more pronounced, so I have hope that you'll feel better once the house issues are settled.
ReplyDeleteC1 is a climber (always has been), and this week was monkeying around on the slide, fell, and broke his arm. I'm a little on edge, and have found myself shouting at them for completely normal brotherly wrestling. After a short session of yet more monkeying around on the playground, I shouted, "I'm going to take you home, roll you in bubble wrap, and keep you there for 6 weeks!" Alas, I am out of bubble wrap. I'm sure the conditioned reaction isn't anywhere near what you're feeling regarding the food/pain/sleeplessness issues, but I sympathize.
Also, I wish to mail you an inordinate amount of interesting, safe food, but I fear that is as unlikely as a C1 rolled in bubble wrap. Perhaps I will settle for mailing you more membrillo.
Children! No sense! (Mine have a total of three bloody knees, a big raw spot on a hand, and a sizeable bite mark at present.)
DeleteI get what you mean. I find myself being defined by my stroke sometimes. I hope that things improve greatly and quickly and you can get back to who you want to bed. Hugs to you.
ReplyDeleteI'm so sorry. I think of this horrible thing you're going through (except there IS no THROUGH, just on and on) a lot. It's insane. The new york times has a medical mysteries thing--perhaps we should submit you. SURELY there's a magical cure and your life will soon be magically fixed. RIGHT?
ReplyDeleteIt must feel so hopeless. Again, sorry.
I think the main problem is we DO know what it is, but there isn't a cure. If only someone would come up with one.... ack.
DeleteThank you for the sympathy. Sometimes I think I just need to be sad and angry about it.