I'm young. 18 years old to be exact, but my heart and mind say otherwise.
At a younger age I was never able to understand most things that were brought upon my life. I was constantly facing new struggles that kids I was surrounded by weren’t dealing with and may never have to. I grew up surrounded by medical terms, doctors, and hospitalizations. I became familiar with medication lists so long that they consumed 3 full pages.
My whole life I have been raised through challenges, broken dreams, and learning to adapt to new lifestyles time and time again. As I began to get older and wiser I learned to accept my fate in life, I learned to face difficulties with nothing but a positive outlook, and I learned that there is no way to change your past, but there are ways to make your present and future worthwhile.
There have been times where I was not able to keep my vigorous frame of mind. In these moments I would feel myself slowly drowning in sorrow, defeat, but most of all, guilt. I felt guilty because, even though I may not have been in the best situation, I was far better off than some people in this world. These are the moments that have helped define who I am. People will hear my infectious laugh during my most difficult intervals, I will have an everlasting smile on my face when all I want to do is break down, and no matter what is going on in my life, I am always putting forth the effort into making others happy.
For me to be able to say that I am satisfied with myself, life, and all of its entities is a wondrous feeling and gift. Every day I fight the odds and live with a mad, passionate determination, which no matter what, will never be destroyed.
I’m young. 18 years old to be exact, but my heart and mind say otherwise.

Wednesday, March 13, 2013

I'm just so tired

I once read a quote that said, "The eyes are the window to the soul."
Yes, I know, it sounds quite corny, but to tell you the truth, I have always loved that quote.
These past few days haven't been that well. I now have a full blown infection again. The more I get, the faster they hit. When I started getting sick before, I used to hold it off for possibly weeks at time. It probably wasn't the best of ideas, but it seems like 80% of the time, there's some event coming up when I start to get sick. When graduation was around, I started getting sick about two weeks before. At first, it wasn't bad at all and I had actually thought that it was going away. Nope, a few days before the graduation, it hit me really bad and I was miserable. I vowed that I would walk no matter what though and that I would not have anything attached to me -- not oxygen and not even my port accessed. (I always get sidetracked...) So, as I was saying, I am currently sick again. What started last week as a stuffy nose, chest congestion and increased cough has now led to...well, you know. I'm sitting here in my bed trying to catch my breath...why? Not because I just walked a flight of stairs or not because I was doing anything remotely energetic, but because my lungs are fucking shit and can't function properly on their own. I've literally been sitting here for about 20 minutes...just sitting...and I still can't catch my breath. I've tried deep breathing exercises, I've tried moving positions and I've tried stretching my back as much as possible, but there's no subsiding it. I can tell that my O2 is low when I don't have my oxygen on, but I don't want to be fucking hooked up to oxygen 24/7 right now. I am just wearing it whenever I'm in my room and especially when I'm sleeping. If I'm in the hospital, I can deal with wearing it 24/7, but not at home. Not where my family can see the evidence of my <30% lung capacity tapered to my face. I'm still smiling. I'm still laughing. I'm trying so hard not to let it be noticeable.
That's where the quote comes in. My mom is possibly one of the only people that can tell when I'm not okay. Upon sitting at the kitchen table and laughing with my family and not showing how fucking bad my chest hurts, my mom sees it. Hours later after everyone is calmed down and settled in for the night, I am sitting with my mom. "Your eyes have that look." And that's when I know that she can see it. Not only now, but she noticed it as soon as it began. She asked me what I had planned on doing and I just flat out said, "I don't know. I don't want to be back in the hospital already. I just need a few more days." We both know that when I'm at this point, I get worse everyday until I am admitted. I hate feeling this fucking miserable, but at the same time, I'm not taking any initiative to make it better. I mean yeah, I'm doing my treatments and taking all of my pills everyday, but this is beyond that. I need IV treatment, I need a higher concentration of oxygen, and damn it, I need some rest.
You know that saying, "Sometimes when I say "I'm okay", I want someone to look me in the eyes, hug me tight and say, "I know you are not..." My mom is that someone. I'm okay with hiding how I'm feeling, I don't want my family and best friends to truly know just how much pain I am in, but sometimes I just need that one person.
Sometimes I have tears well in my eyes without others knowing because I am just so tired. I'm so fucking tired right now, but I can't sleep. I was up until 8 this morning and I managed to sleep for 2 hours. I tried so hard, but I just can't sleep. I'm coughing so often and so hard that I'm literally vomiting on the spot. Earlier today I was laying in bed and I started having a cough attack and then...I just threw up...all over my computer, all over my bed and all over myself. I started cleaning it up and then I had another cough attack and threw up once more. I just broke down with how much aggravation, fatigue and pain that I was in. Should I go to the hospital tomorrow? Probably, but I just got out three weeks ago. Maybe I can wait until Monday? Oh wait, I have a Lindsey Stirling concert on Saturday. How the hell am I supposed to enjoy that? I'm not exaggerating when I say that I can't walk more than a few steps without being completely winded. This is supposed to be a weekend trip and at the moment, I can't even get out of bed until roughly 2:30 in the afternoon. I'm having trouble talking, eating, walking, fuck it...I'm having trouble just with sitting. One of the things that pisses me off the most is that I am struggling to laugh. I hate that. I hate it so much. Laughing is literally one of my favorite things to do. Earlier, I was with one of my best friends Kayla and every time we're together, I swear I grow a new pack of abs from laughing so hard. So I start laughing, and almost immediately, I have to try and stop myself. My body gets extremely hot and clammy from trying to gasp for air. One of the moments hit where you feel yourself starting to get dizzy from the lack of oxygen. I eventually catch my breath again (as utmost as possible, of course) and I just feel defeated. I feel exhausted and emotional from the lack of sleep and from how much effort my body is putting into just breathing. I just want sleep. I want a good, peaceful and long sleep.

"Just breathe..." they say..
Ha, yeah. If I could, I wouldn't have any of these problems.

1 comment:

  1. It's so unfair that you feel like this. It's exhausting trying to hide how you really feel from people. I don't have much advice, but just wanted to say I'm thinking of you xx