“It’s Nothing, But There’s Something”.

*Paraphrased*

“It’s nothing that’s clearly a problem right now, but there are 2 spots that are possibly a concern.

There’s nothing we can do now; come back in 6 months. Everything else seems ok, so there’s nothing we can do to help right now.”

But in 6 months, I would have applied to all the universities I wanted to apply to, maybe even accepted into some.

In 6 months, the plan for my next few years will be set, and all at the same time whatever showed up on the scan could be growing – becoming a new problem I will just have to learn to live with or do more treatments to fix.

How am I supposed to cope with waking up every morning trying to figure out if my headache is just a side effect of my life or is it a clue into what is happening inside? Every time I am over a toilet regurgitating my last meal, I begin to question what is causing this. Am I just going insane? Am I physically sore from whatever is happening inside me or am I just sore from being sore?

My god, what am I going to do? How am I going to get through this?

It seems sort of dumb that you’re ok for now actually has brought on more stress for me. I guess it’s because it’s not a 100% clear, it’s a mixed answer.

And I always hated mixed answers – unsure responses that raise more questions that answers.

 

Random Thoughts #4.

“Oh my god, I am so tired of not being able to do things; not being able to think, and not being able to be me.”

  • I’m sick of it. I’m sick of being stuck on one question forever. I’m sick of being trapped in my own pool of lost memories and mixed emotions. I’m sick of being mindlessly confused even when I may not really be that confused. I’m sick of it. I’m sick…(of it). I don’t want to feel lost. I don’t want to feel out of place, but here I am: lost in a sea of trying to figure out how to calculate LIFO and FIFO inventory amounts and having to calculate what are the chances that something is really going on with my goddamn broken brain. Hell, I am mad. I am emotional. I am unstable, and all I can do is rant about it to people I know in person and here. It’s absolutely horrendous that I cannot think of good things to write and express all these emotions in a productive way. Spending all my energy trying to memorize and organize my mind just to have it all be gone seconds after I complete the test. There is no way this is normal. There must be something wrong, or at least something I’m doing wrong.

Pre-Scan Jitters.

I have an MRI tonight – moved earlier because I told my doctors about some symptoms I’ve been experiencing. The same sort of symptoms I experienced a little over a year ago during what was likely the most difficult time/situation of my life.

I showered early as the scan is at midnight in downtown. Now I stare at my dinner unappetizingly with a weird feeling in my stomach and throat – warning signs of classic Jessica-style vomiting.

It’s never about the scan itself that is frightening.
It’s always about what the scan shows.

If it’s not clean, that’s a whole set of new worries. However, even if it is clean, there are some unanswered questions and problems which may now never have an answer.

I don’t even know what I want to hope for. Maybe something minor that can be fixed with some pills? Small treatments?

I don’t know.
I don’t want to know.

I just want to find out soon if it’s something that can be helped.

I just want some help.

Random Thoughts #3

“I miss the days when washing and blow-drying my hair was not an emotional and physical struggle.”

  • I used to not  wash my hair often because it was tedious, and I had other work I could have been doing during that time. Now, I don’t enjoy it for that same reason, plus the fact that when I wash my hair, I have to feel the ridges on my scalp and have to deal with the fact that I will have to dry it. Blow-drying my hair means holding up a blow-dryer for a long period of time as it aches – reminding me of the fact that I still am not fully there yet in terms of arm strength. As I struggle to keep my balance against in the slippery tub slicked with conditioner and fear clouds my brain when my eyes close to rinse, I am somehow transported back to the various stages of my recovery and shudder. I guess there’s nothing left to tell, at least not right now. So I might as well go back to actually drying my hair now. Oh boy, wish me luck.

Random Thoughts #2.

“I forgot.”

  • This seems to be a common theme now in my day-to-day life – forgetting. As much as I would love to go back to the days where I could remember exact excerpts from my textbooks, I like to think that my fear of forgetting the specifics has forced me to look at the bigger picture. It’s much easier to remember a feeling than any statistic, and it seems to be more important in the long-run anyway.

War Paint.

I streak on my concealer across all the scars on my face, covering all my inner battles.

I buff powder into my skin, blending my sickly skin to porcelain perfection.

I add highlighter and blush, creating the image of colour and health.

I comb on mascara to make my eyes seem open; unaffected by my tired, droopy lids.

I do these things not to make myself seem beautiful to others, but to feel powerful to myself.

I look at myself in the mirror and admire the art I have created.

Not the smears of colours I have added, but at what it enhances on the canvass.

Sometimes, it just takes a stroke of colour to find that person within – the one that is strong, confident, and powerful…the one that was always there.