It’s the toughest time of my life, and I feel the weakest I’ve been in my life.
Had to go home from work. It was (according to the schedule) an easy day. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t even do the easy day. I cried all the way driving home.
Every day I don’t work is a day I’m not paid.
I passed my exam and finally qualified but I don’t even care because I can’t even do the job and everything seems pointless right now.
Being and feeling incontinent is one of the worst things to feel. I don’t want to put myself in a position where I have an accident in work, so I go home. And I feel like a failure. I know I’m not, I’m an ill person who needs surgery, but the feeling is all-pervasive.
Rationally I know I’m strong, have done incredibly well to get a job and a new qualification. But rationally is not how my brain thinks.
I feel helpless, hopeless and pathetic.
I’m also angry, a lot. I drive too fast and I care too little about other people’s problems. Other nurses in work have the most minor of problems / afflictions and they go on and on. I don’t care about your BCG scab, I don’t care about your cold, I most certainly don’t care about your piles.
I don’t really care about anything at the moment.
I am so depressed it is hard to even explain how depressed I am.
I’m depressed because I don’t see an end, no date, no certainty of an end.
What do I see as an end. I see me having had several major surgeries to create a j-pouch and it behaving perfectly and having no issues with it.
(I imagine I’ll lay awake at night thinking the stitches are coming apart and I’m going to die of sepsis).
Back to the happy ending, where was I?
I will have loads of energy. I’ll go travelling and see cool things.
I will also have had top surgery and be rocking a masculine face with some cool minimalist facial hair. My parents will send me a birthday card and it will say “Happy birthday son” or similar.
I will also have a girlfriend or boyfriend who gets me and we will have really interesting conversations.
Probably a cat.
Obviously I don’t work in this job anymore. I work somewhere else, but still have lots of free time to enjoy myself.
To enjoy myself.
I have this vague memory of what it’s like to enjoy myself. And want to get it back. Want it to become clear. Not some weird déjà-vu did this happen type of feeling.
I want to stop crying.
I want to be well enough to be able to care about other people. I want to drive slowly. I want all these things I may never get, because I have to. To survive.
I want to survive this.
I know I will. Just at the moment, lots of crying.
So bear with me.