Friday, January 14, 2011


Today is one of "those" days where I am reminded of the fact I need medication just to give me the strength to do basic tasks. I hate days like this. I hate that I can't be naturally energised like my children. I hate that at 23 years old, I feel like a little old lady and just can't, physically, cannot muster the energy to get up and do what needs to be done. I have looked at my dirty dishes several times this morning and told myself "these need to be done", and after that another, less convincing voice tells me "later, when I've woken up a bit". I've been awake for over 3 hours. I am not going to get more awake than I am, and those dishes are still sitting there, staring at me, reminding me how physically and emotionally weak I am.
    I have spent days paralyzed by... I don't even know what. I get extremely overwhelmed and anxious knowing just how much I have to do sometimes. I often clean my house one room at a time, purely because if I think of the "big" picture of having to clean every single room, I think of how little energy I have, panic, and can't think straight, let alone breathe.
    Does this sound crazy? Does this sound incredibly lazy? This is my life, the inner workings of my mind and body that I have to live with, and contend with every moment that I am awake. This is the illogical way in which my mind & body, when left to their own devices and not told how to think or feel, with the aid of a tablet, work. Or rather DON'T work. I can sit back, and tell myself that it's insane. It doesn't need to be like that. But do you think that this personal pep-talk I give myself everyday sinks in and helps me? Do you think I can get my body to do all the things I want it to do based just on what I can naturally provide it, such as sleep, food, water? No, I am left to rely on the magic tablet, just to function like a somewhat normal human.
    There's no reason why I should feel like this. People can slap a name on it because it only started affecting me after my daughter was born, but how is it fair to blame her existence on the fact that my mind and body have decided to pack up shop and leave town? I don't blame her. She's a baby. I am an adult. I believe if I wanted to do things, I could. Time and time again my belief has been shot down in flames by my body's obvious resistence in doing anything, but surely I can fix this.
    Surely, I can just wake up & want to run around and chase my kids in play. I was always a "few coffees to kick start the brain" people, but this is more than that. I can feel this is more than that, and I have often drank litres of coffee, just to prove that it's more than I can control, and have been proven right. Surely, the rest of my life won't be plagued like this. Surely, I will return to the "normal" that once was... but how? When?
    It makes me feel worse when people see me on a "good" day [a good day is a medicated day]. They tell me I am doing a fantastic job. Tell me I am a wonderful mother. Tell me theywish they were lucky enough to have my energy. Come see me on a day where I am physically unable to move while my daughter is crawling around the loungeroom and my son is just sitting next to me whilst I read to him because it's the most physical task I can perform. Tell me I am doing a fantastic job then. Tell me I am a wonderful mother then. Tell me you wish you were as energetic as me then. Tell me you wish you had what I have then. You wouldn't, because anyone who wishes my nightmare on themself, is as crazy as I am.

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