Health and peace of mind
30 Jan 2011 Leave a Comment
in Personal Tags: revelations, serious, stress
I think I just had one of the most meaningful moments in my life. I’m not sure how long I’ll be able to heed it, since I’m young and stubborn and I always think that my way is the right way, when it comes to my own self, but I hope that it’ll start sticking to me soon, instead of coming back to me regrettably, somewhere close to my middle-ages, when I look at my life and don’t like what I see.
My father’s father died when he was 44. He had a stroke because of his high blood pressure — he had those sorts of problems. My father, too, has been on such medication, apparently especially when my sister and I were too young to understand such things. Recently, it appears to me, things have settled down on that front; however, his cancer (read the blogpost from late 2010 for explanation) came as an ugly surprise to us all. A moment ago, he disclosed to me that he firmly believed that his cancer was, so to speak, his own doing, as was his high blood pressure — because of the mental strain he placed on himself, and the physical strain that followed. He thinks that his side of the family has a disease called perfectionism, one that has symptoms of both unreasonable expectations in oneself and the tendency of judging oneself far more harshly than others.
These are symptoms that I readily recognise in myself, and I also recognise that my own physical health has never been… perfect. At one time, I could have attributed it to my taxing sport “hobby” (read: lifestyle), and related difficulties of growing and exercising and not eating etc. Recently, especially during last year, it began to get worse and more acute at times, but since I haven’t had any “real” symptom of illness — I never get high fevers, for example; if the temperature reads 37.0, I’m rather sick — I oftentimes brush it off. Now, this is my own fault, and also the fault of my mother, The Nurse, to whom I’ve always felt the need to PROVE that I’m sick if I feel so, and hence never like making the assumption to her that I am, even if I think so, instead just complaining about aches and pains and nausea and whatnot; but it is also the fault of myself, because I have a tendency to think of it as normal, as well, and that it will pass.
But it hasn’t, and I’ve been trying to sort out all of my health problems with a doctor recently, and one of them has been confirmed to be chronic to the point where further complications are possible. I have a prescription for a certain medication for SIX FREAKING MONTHS, and to be continued after that, perhaps. Others are still under investigation, but…
I realised already immediately after my final exams that I will never again let my study or my work govern my life. It isn’t healthy, not mentally nor physically. I wrote often during the past year how I had difficulty thinking about much other than school — you can see it in the tags I’ve created for that subject. I still feel it now; I mean, obviously, this summer has been hard for me for other reasons than just that, but I still feel like I’m not even beginning to recover from last year. That’s why I’m slightly nervous about going to university in March — I’m not sure I’m ready. But then again, I should get out of that mindset and into the one that allows me to breeze through it in the same way I breezed through most of my schooling so far.
Don’t get me wrong, I have been feeling better recently, happier, and getting more enthused about certain things. In fact, in the past few days I’ve felt almost overwhelmed with how many things there are that I’ve been getting excited about: there’s Pokémon, for we have been watching the series and it’s absolutely ADORABLE, and I hence want to play the old game for the nostalgia of it and watch the first three movies, since they were positively epic; there’s Lord of the Rings, as I watched Fellowship of the Ring today for the first time in like three years (or more), and it blew me away, so I want to finish watching the other two and then maybe re-read the books and Silmarillion (it’s a good evening read, helps you fall asleep *grin* Father likens it to reading the phone book); then Supernatural and many, many more. And it’s not just that I have fleeting interest in them, it’s like full-on “OH MY GOD I WANT THIS SO BAD AND I WANT TO IMMERSE MYSELF IN IT” and that’s something I haven’t done in ages and it feels so good.
Uh. Anyway. I suppose what I’m trying to say is that the talk I had with my father was meaningful, but wasn’t anything I hadn’t already thought before. It was something I will probably carry close to my heart and remember, and maybe cling to, when times get rough again. And I’m only pulling myself out of self-inflicted rough right now, as well, but it seems to be working. I’m beginning to feel enthused and happy, even though I still get oh so very tired occasionally, and want to just curl up in my personal cocoon and not speak to anyone.
It’s slow, but I’m getting there, and I have only now remembered that I’m not alone and I don’t have to carry it all alone and there is always light and help and my foundation in my love.
Don’t underestimate the support of the ones you love.
Peace and love, everyone.
Hoping that bad news travels alone
16 Dec 2010 Leave a Comment
in Personal Tags: future, human beans, serious
When you receive tragic, life-altering news, at first, you cry a lot. After you’re done crying, you stare into the distance a bit, and then you cry some more — mostly because some primal instinct within you says “now you’re supposed to cry.” There’s no coherent thought going through your head while you’re crying — just some subconscious understanding of the fact that something is terribly, terribly wrong, and things will never be the same again and it’s possible that something tragic could happen very soon. In a way, you’re shocked, and in another, you don’t know how to react. It seems so clichéd, but in a way, in between all the crying and the staring into the distance melancholily, you’re very slowly marveling at how these sorts of things shouldn’t happen to you, or to your relatives; that your family should always be there, at least until nature finally calls them home.
No, no, don’t worry — no-one in my family has died. It feels kind of weird to talk about something this personal online, on my blog, where any passing stranger could peep into my life with that almost sick sense of fascination and curiosity that is common to human beans — I know, because it’s somewhere within me, too. People are always interested in other people’s tragedies.. Always interested in things that aren’t common in their own lives, something that is beyond their experience and understanding. Or maybe that’s just me. And in a way, this is also very impersonal, because this post could be written by anyone; and there is a fair amount of people who have gone through this sentiment as well.
On the day of my high school graduation, I found out that my father has cancer. That was a few days ago now (though it feels like it has almost been a week; time has sort of slowed to this crawl of suspense, what with his surgery [which went well, thank heavens] and everything)… And while it’s still really difficult to talk about, or to think about — too much; optimistic thinking, thank God, has always been relatively easy for me, as long as I’m not overburdened or burnt out, which I’m not in danger of at the moment, since I’m on my holidays now — my days are getting progressively better. I’m a bit happier, a bit more optimistic every day. I keep thinking that today’s cancer treatments are so advanced and my father seems so strong and healthy that there really shouldn’t even be any reason to worry. I mean, of course I’m a bit… I was going to say scared, but I’m not, not really. I’ll be scared if he begins seeming incredibly sick, if he seems to get really weak all of a sudden… But as long as he keeps on making jokes and keeps on smiling for us, I’ll continue to believe that everything will turn out fine. I still get a bit teary every once in a while, like for example when offering support to mother; but I’m not quite sure why.
Anyway. So after the crying and the desperation is done, after you’ve realised that actually, there’s something to worry about, but it’s not as immediate and devastating as you thought it would be, you start getting distracted and incredibly exhausted. This may very well be connected to the fact that I’m not feeling very much… Or very “deep” feelings. I keep on forgetting what I’m doing every 15 seconds (trying to shop for a few essential things with mother yesterday was pretty amusing — we just kept on walking in directions, then stopping, then going “where were we going again?” We had to keep listing the things we need every few minutes or so, so as to know where we’re going), and the height of activity I’ve been capable of is re-watching seasons of How I Met Your Mother and playing flash games on Neopets. I’m supposed to be thinking about my tertiary education, changing my preferences and worrying about when to receive and accept university offers… But it’s just so hard. There are moments when I get really excited about it, and then moments when I just get completely distracted and don’t care at all. And it’s not because I’ve lost my will to live my life, or something… It’s just… I don’t even know what it is. You just don’t function much at all. Like something in your brain is telling it to shut down completely and only deal with the essentials of running a functional human bean.
The most difficult thing is telling people about what is going on, and trying to give details of why my father is in the hospital and that sort of thing. It’s easier when they know, but that you have to explain, and sort of re-live the moment of discovery again, and again, and again… Or, alternatively, the most difficult thing is going to meet people who have no idea of what’s going on, for example, at a store or something, and then still try to smile and tell them “good” when they ask how you are. Or… well, that wasn’t too hard today. Like I said, it gets better, day after day after day. And it’s wonderful to read all the texts mother has been receiving from family friends, and to know that there are so many people out there who care and who would love to help, if there be need for it. And mother’s parents are here now, too.
And most importantly, we’ll have father home for Christmas.
Gotta take a day at a time, you know? And gotta keep smiling. Keep smiling, kids. n__n
