It’s been so long! I’m still here, still healing away. Since my last post I got my own medical ride guy – YESSS. No more “it’s not my problem” for me. (Dillhole.) He is Jamal and he is nice and he never gets lost going to my house. All the small things, eh? Word.
The day of the eclipse I also got an agent for my book! Now to build a platform so she can sell it… I’m working on busting into the big-name publications, and I even dubbed myself with a new name, Meg Hartley, much easier to remember than my real one, Meghan Grunow. (Plus people are always saying my last name Gun Row which reminds me of this.) I’ve been writing under it for a month now and it’s really grown on me, I think I’m going to change it legally too!
I also got a part-time marketing gig working from home – it makes me feel like a real person! It feels good to be able to contribute to something, great people, and a great product/company too. Gratituuuudes!
I also had a couple more of what I’ve called “emo breakdowns” in this blog, and decided that it was time to really look at them. It’s not just sadness. I cry normal sadness tears sporadically as well, these occasions are very different; it feels like I’ve been pulled into a darkness and despair and I can’t escape, I feel I want to die when they happen. It’s terrifying, but I’m now able to detach from it in a way that I couldn’t do when I was younger; even when it’s happening I know it’s not real, that it’s not me.
I guess I’d been using that, and the fact that it just seems so melodramatic and silly once it passes, to not deal with it. But I started seeing a therapist a few weeks ago so I can face down whatever’s creating those experiences. It seems like I’ve suppressed something – not dealt with it like I needed to. It’s like I get sneak-attack clobbered by darkness, it’s triggered by something tiny; then I’m crying on the floor for hours, trying not to identify with seriously dark thoughts. It’s now followed by days of physical pain too, as my poor healing lil’ nervous system recovers. Oy!
I’m sure talking to someone is/will help to shed light on the matter. As the brilliant Brene Brown points out, “shame cannot survive empathy”. This darkness definitely is shrouded in shame, and my therapist is definitely of the empathic variety. (Adios boogers.)
I also started seeing a physical therapist, who has me on strict instructions not to “use up all my spoons”. This advice came from something called The Spoon Theory, which was created by a young woman explaining what it was like to have Lupus to a friend of hers. They were chillin’ at a diner when the friend asked what it was like. She gathered all of the spoons from their table, and a few more from others, then explained that when you have a chronic illness you only get so many ‘spoons’ per day. Every tiny thing uses up spoons; doing the dishes, showering, getting dressed – everything. When you use up all of your spoons for the day, you can borrow from tomorrow – but you will PAY.
My PT explained to me that doing things like having happy time party dancing around my apartment when I feel good is actually setting back my recovery! I thought it was good to ‘push it’ when I had the energy and lack of pain to do so, but I stand corrected; happy time party dancing (or, you know, walking for more than a few minutes) is borrowing spoons from tomorrow, which doesn’t have many to begin with.
So, I sit here, very still-like, waiting for my nervous system to regrow. Working on work I love doing, and dreaming of the day I get to go play with the world again. I’m gonna getcha, world…