When you deal with a cold, how does it feel? I'm not talking about the physical symptoms, I'm talking about your emotions, your state of mind. How you may miss work and what they may think. How you don't have the strength to make dinner for your family or if your single what are you going to do if you have no Top Ramen and you don't want to bother others. You feel useless. You feel lonely. Being useless is a very hard pill to swallow. So something as small as a cold has the ability to put the brakes on your life and make you feel useless. When all you can do is lift your head to change the channel, blow your nose, drink or for a little treat you can get out of bed to use the potty. That useless feeling just sits next to you, like an evil entity, laughing at the loneliness that you feel due to the uselessness that you feel.
Now envision that one day you are getting sick to your stomach and the next thing is you wake up, you can't talk because you want a tube down your throat and you have no reason why or where you are. I lived through that. That your old life is forever gone. All I can say is that now that it is 2013, I'm angry. I'm angry because I'm just a sick sister. I've already given my family the gift of dealing with my manic depression. I'm angry that I feel like a burden, whether it's true or not. Nobody has every tried to help me feel like that is not true. Anytime I have ever wanted to do anything it was a chore, not fun. I'm just fucking angry of feeling useless. I'm stuck to a machine that has a bag attached to it with a tube putting shit, that looks like ensure into my small intestine.
I hate that I am still dealing with all the aftermath, feeling useless eats me up. I'm just fucking tired of feeling useless. I want to feel free again but I have not mourned enough. People can say I have, but then again they are not in my shoes. I lost most of my health. I weigh about 92 lbs and I can't seem to gain anymore, I lost my house a few months after I got out of the hospital and then to put the cherry on my shit ass sundae, I lost one of my dogs. He was the dog that laid on the floor in the bathroom to keep me warm and nuzzle my head whether I just got sick or if I hadn't got sick for awhile so I would get back in bed.
I want to scream. I want to yell at my family at times, I want to yell at God, I want to yell at the world. But because I'm Bipolar I try very hard to keep it together. My tears are for my sadness and my anger and my uselessness. I want to beat and throw things, but I just sleep. I'm getting close though.
I once had a useful life, where I volunteered at a bookstore that I loved, having a fighting match with my mortgage company(not going to name) to keep my home, working on a dream of having my own importing coffee business from Central America. I did this between my puking bouts. When I was being that useful I wasn't sick everyday. Then my body turned on me and I started to throw up everyday. I was getting fatter and fatter, while I was puking. I'm Bipolar, so it was looked as I must be having some sort of psychosomatic breakdown, which was a load of shit. I asked them to please put a scope down my throat, but that never happened. So I'm not going to get into all of the details of my illness today, but this is meant for anyone who lives with an illness that makes their lives limited and the saddness that comes when you feel useless.
Tonight I hope to dream of a time when my manic depression wasn't rearing up, when I was in better health and I had people that wanted to hang with me. That is all I want for the moment.