I’m in here, just under a lot of weird layers….
This won’t be a long one. Typing is hard and I make a mess of it. But I’ll try. Here we go.
I believe I’ve reached an emotionally reactive phase of this nightmare. I’ve cried over it a couple of times. I’m also angry. Angry at my new limitations. Angry at that stupid clot. I’ve also had a couple of panic attacks.
I want to understand why. Or at least investigate to try to get an answer, one way or the other. “It happened because of…..” or “we’ll never know.” But I need to have something more to live better with this. To make some kind of peace with this situation.
I’ve chameleoned over and over, many times, over the years. But this version of me is the absolute hardest one to exist with, in my opinion. Mainly because I feel like I’m relearning so much.
Things like: Can my eyes adjust to looking at certain patterns, or is it too much for my eyes? Or my brain, really. Cobblestones, textured tiles – some of them are overwhelming for me. Are these areas of the sidewalk okay to walk on? Will I stumble? Have I said this word before? Do I sound like I’m slurring my words? Am I just tired? Why does my leg feel weak? Maybe this is far enough and now we need to head home. Maybe I’ll never get further than the corner store. Hopefully, I will, but who knows?
And my inner monologue is too quiet. So much so that it’s freaking me out. I painted my imagined renditions of it, the before and after. The colorful one is before, I call it “Constant Chaos.”
I hate being uncertain like this. And I literally have no control over anything. My brain is healing. Someone said having a stroke is like having your brain kicked from the inside. Another person said that our brains broke and need to repair themselves. I hate both of those images. But I think they’re right. My neurologist said my brain is reconnecting all of its circuits. And that takes time. I wish I was more patient.
The second is after the stroke, when I’m sitting on my own. It’s called, “It’s too quiet in here.”
The last one is called, “I’m in here.” And it’s how I feel when I’m with my family.
I started them as a sort of therapy to exercise my left hand. Then it became emotionally therapeutic too.
I walk every day. Even if I’m tired. Please don’t misunderstand where I am in this. I know how very lucky I am and how much I’ve retained and regained. I’m just upset because having a stroke is extremely hard. My eyes, thank goodness are back to normal. Except with certain patterns. My left side is weak, but it’s mostly problematic when I’ve been active for a while. I just feel like a ticking time bomb and I hate that sensation. It’s scary and exhausting. Worrying about every sensation and headache. I’ve always had them. But now it’s different because I wonder if it’s just a headache.
I’m getting rest though. I’m still putting myself to bed and actually getting some sleep every night. It’s awesome. I’ll keep it up for sure.
Pain levels have gone up a bit, but that’s okay because it’s normal. Even that feels acceptable to me.
The good news is that I have appointments with a stroke specialist and a cardiologist in February.
Just please say a prayer and keep a good thought for me. I greatly appreciate them.
Here’s to finding strength when you need it most. Courage too. And here’s to better days to come. ❤️
Peace and painlessness,
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