It has been quite a while since I have blogged and this is for several reasons. As the semester sped up, I didn't have as much time to commit to writing for the blog. When I did have free time, I was spending most of it catching up on sleep or hanging out with my friends because, at school, they are only a few feet away. I also have been less inclined to blog lately because I have not been in the highest of spirits. The semester kicked up and I got stressed and I've been having a rough spell. I'm fainting much more often these days and I've been very frustrated. Even though I started this blog to create a venue for constructively letting these frustrations out, I'm still working on being comfortable with that. I don't want to over-complain or fall into a pattern of indulging in self pity. I don't want to spiral.
But the problem is, just because I wasn't writing about it or publishing these thoughts, I was still indulging in the emotions. I was still frustrated and I was still wrestling with anger and sadness every day because of my illness; I just wasn't letting it out. Towards the end of October, I was doing very well. I was fainting every couple days but I had more energy and higher spirit than I had had in months. I was going to Halloween parties and feeling like a normal college student again. Maybe I pushed myself too hard because as November rolled in, I began to crash. But, as I do, I fought it and pretended it wasn't happening.
So far, November has been hard. As the fall semester comes to a close, I have to start making decisions about my plans in the spring. I'm also finding myself reaching realistic conclusions about my health. I've started to more seriously research Cardiac Alert dogs and other ways to ease the effects of my disability.
I've been having a hard time counting my blessings. I know I have many: a home, the opportunity to get an education, great friends, a supportive family, etc. But sometimes when I am having a day riddled with migraines and pain and dizziness and the unwavering feeling of helplessness, it's hard to remember these things. Some days it is hard to remember anything other than anger.
But a good friend of mine said something that resinated with me more than most pieces of advice these days. I was getting angry about my situation and I was sitting with him crying frustration tears and blubbering on about how helpless I feel and how I'm worried that I'm too angry all the time. I don't want to be an angry person. He told me that he is always relieved when I get angry about my situation. He told me that every time he sees me get frustrated and angry about being sick he knows that I'm still "in the game," because, according to him, "once you stop getting angry, it means you've given up." At least I still have the energy and will to care.
It might sound weird, but this year, I am thankful for being angry. I'm thankful for friends who give me clarity when I need it. I'm thankful for bear hugs paired with tears of frustration. I'm thankful for top of the head kisses and foot stomping.
I'm not going to say that I'm thankful for the journey I've been on this year. I'm not going to say that I'm thankful for Voldemort or getting sick. I'm not. I'm pissed off as hell that I'm sick. But I'm thankful for every hand that I've held while getting blood taken and every Get Well card and every beautiful person who gave me love this year. And I'm thankful for being angry.
But the problem is, just because I wasn't writing about it or publishing these thoughts, I was still indulging in the emotions. I was still frustrated and I was still wrestling with anger and sadness every day because of my illness; I just wasn't letting it out. Towards the end of October, I was doing very well. I was fainting every couple days but I had more energy and higher spirit than I had had in months. I was going to Halloween parties and feeling like a normal college student again. Maybe I pushed myself too hard because as November rolled in, I began to crash. But, as I do, I fought it and pretended it wasn't happening.
So far, November has been hard. As the fall semester comes to a close, I have to start making decisions about my plans in the spring. I'm also finding myself reaching realistic conclusions about my health. I've started to more seriously research Cardiac Alert dogs and other ways to ease the effects of my disability.
I've been having a hard time counting my blessings. I know I have many: a home, the opportunity to get an education, great friends, a supportive family, etc. But sometimes when I am having a day riddled with migraines and pain and dizziness and the unwavering feeling of helplessness, it's hard to remember these things. Some days it is hard to remember anything other than anger.
But a good friend of mine said something that resinated with me more than most pieces of advice these days. I was getting angry about my situation and I was sitting with him crying frustration tears and blubbering on about how helpless I feel and how I'm worried that I'm too angry all the time. I don't want to be an angry person. He told me that he is always relieved when I get angry about my situation. He told me that every time he sees me get frustrated and angry about being sick he knows that I'm still "in the game," because, according to him, "once you stop getting angry, it means you've given up." At least I still have the energy and will to care.
It might sound weird, but this year, I am thankful for being angry. I'm thankful for friends who give me clarity when I need it. I'm thankful for bear hugs paired with tears of frustration. I'm thankful for top of the head kisses and foot stomping.
I'm not going to say that I'm thankful for the journey I've been on this year. I'm not going to say that I'm thankful for Voldemort or getting sick. I'm not. I'm pissed off as hell that I'm sick. But I'm thankful for every hand that I've held while getting blood taken and every Get Well card and every beautiful person who gave me love this year. And I'm thankful for being angry.
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