To say The Old Me represents "good" and The New Me represents "evil" is so wrong. There were things about The Old Me that I didn't like and wanted to change. There are things about The New Me that I find very nice. For example, The Old Me tended to have very little patience. Oh yes. She could be very impatient. Waiting was AGONY. The New Me is a lot more patient. She waits at doctor's offices. "Mrs. Meece, the doctor is running a little late today." The New Me shrugs and waits. Not a problem. The Old Me would be FUMING. The Old Me would be ticking off lists and things that she was missing and time wasted and oh the busy, busy, busy life she had. The New Me sees life differently than The Old Me. She appreciates time and what it can give her and never sees a late doctor as time 'wasted' but an opportunity. An opportunity to check out the people who are also waiting. An opportunity to read. An opportunity to look at colors. The New Me no longer takes her eyesight for granted. Sometimes, reading causes a headache. Sometimes, reading causes Crouching Tiger to come alive the next day, but The New Me sees it like this...tomorrow I may be blind and may miss seeing the printed word. The New Me seizes the opportunity to still read and relishes the ability to see the printed word. Before, The Old Me took that ability for granted. Today, the headache is worth it for the opportunities it gives The New Me.
I see that I need to move forward. To move forward, I should not move backwards. I can never go backwards. The Old Me should be officially dead because The Old Me existed without this disease, right? I will always live the rest of my days with disease even if it goes into remission. So, logic tells me that I need to move forward and let The Old Me go. Yet, I do not like The New Me as it is right now. I miss The Old Me. Right now, they are still two separate entities. They battle like siblings fighting for control in the house. Yet, in this case, will they merge? Become one? They have to if logic is the truth. But as human as I am...I don't exist just on logic alone. My emotions from The Old Me just cannot fit into The New Me's world and vice versa. The Old Me wants to wake up like the guy from the old TV show Dallas and find that the past 10 years was just a dream and JR was never shot and I never was sick and I could still be healthy and can change my health. Yet, we (the medical field, myself, research, etc,etc) don't know what, why, when where,how and to have the "dream" of the last 2 years erased would be just that...a dream.
To move on...to really move on, I have to make peace with both The Old Me and The New Me. To find some purpose in it all. To find understanding in it all. Is it a merge? Is it a death of The Old Me? Is it a New Me 2.0? All I know is I want a future without the drugs dragging me down and maybe I can finally discover the Me that needs to be discovered. All I do know is that life is about moving forward even when you feel like you are The Walking Dead.
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Saturday, August 27, 2011
The Walking Dead
I just love people who are so self-righteous. You just keep going ahead and judging me and I'll keep praying that you never really feel how I feel physically. If this is just a glorified way to feel sorry for myself or to continue to live negatively to gather the 'attention' from others, than I get it and you can quit bringing it up.
That was my post from a year ago on Facebook. If there is one thing that both The Old Me and The New Me agree on is Judgemental People. Ugg! They are everywhere. Everywhere! They walk around the planet and call themselves friends and family. Why do they feel the need to judge me because on the outside I don't look sick. Yeah...even the mirror fools me some days. I also don't have a well known disease like The Big C or a Politically Correct Disease. 'But you don't look sick' Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. I have the dark and twisty medical stuff. There is a whole website dedicated to illnesses like that and they call themselves "Spoonies." Whole theory that is cute and sweet about not having enough spoons and I totally respect that, but unless you know the story and know the theory and understand the give and take of "spoons" you get a 'huh?' response. I, on the other hand, am a little dark and twisty and don't get cutsie pootsie with my life. Where some see spoons and the lack of spoons, I see The Walking Dead. If you don't know what it feels like to be The Walking Dead, well, you don't know what it feels like. Last night, a good friend revealed she has The Big C...Breast. DAMN! I made a comment about The Walking Dead and she looked at me like I had three heads. At first I was a little put off. Have The Big C and NOT know The Walking Dead feeling? Then it dawned on me (remember I had The Zombie visiting me yesterday and was not thinking very well) today, HER dark and twisty medical crap was just starting. SHE has NOT felt The Walking Dead feeling yet or NOT for days on end. I know I will bring up The Walking Dead and dark and twisty/evil meds three months from now and she will look at me with hollowed out eyes and I will know she will know The Walking Dead feeling.
What is The Walking Dead feeling? For those that know what I'm talking about, you just know. But for those that don't, imagine having the worst flu EVER. Think of the feeling of rolling out of bed and living your life like that day after day after day. You don't actually have the flu...just the feeling of it. You do what you have to do. You be what you have to be. You eat what you have to eat. You say what you have to say. You smile when you need to smile. You try not to cry. You live. You breathe. You are The Walking Dead. Not every day, but most days. People say "Be Grateful your alive." Ah yes...G-R-A-T-E-F-U-L Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. People say "Be positive." Ah yes...P-O-S-I-T-I-V-E Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. People say "Life could be worse." Ah yes...W-O-R-S-E Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. People say "Be Thankful." Ah yes...T-H-A-N-K-F-U-L Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Grateful. Positive. Worse. Thankful. The Walking Dead. I'm Alive. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. See you T-O-M--O-R-R-O-W Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.Thanks!!
That was my post from a year ago on Facebook. If there is one thing that both The Old Me and The New Me agree on is Judgemental People. Ugg! They are everywhere. Everywhere! They walk around the planet and call themselves friends and family. Why do they feel the need to judge me because on the outside I don't look sick. Yeah...even the mirror fools me some days. I also don't have a well known disease like The Big C or a Politically Correct Disease. 'But you don't look sick' Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. I have the dark and twisty medical stuff. There is a whole website dedicated to illnesses like that and they call themselves "Spoonies." Whole theory that is cute and sweet about not having enough spoons and I totally respect that, but unless you know the story and know the theory and understand the give and take of "spoons" you get a 'huh?' response. I, on the other hand, am a little dark and twisty and don't get cutsie pootsie with my life. Where some see spoons and the lack of spoons, I see The Walking Dead. If you don't know what it feels like to be The Walking Dead, well, you don't know what it feels like. Last night, a good friend revealed she has The Big C...Breast. DAMN! I made a comment about The Walking Dead and she looked at me like I had three heads. At first I was a little put off. Have The Big C and NOT know The Walking Dead feeling? Then it dawned on me (remember I had The Zombie visiting me yesterday and was not thinking very well) today, HER dark and twisty medical crap was just starting. SHE has NOT felt The Walking Dead feeling yet or NOT for days on end. I know I will bring up The Walking Dead and dark and twisty/evil meds three months from now and she will look at me with hollowed out eyes and I will know she will know The Walking Dead feeling.
What is The Walking Dead feeling? For those that know what I'm talking about, you just know. But for those that don't, imagine having the worst flu EVER. Think of the feeling of rolling out of bed and living your life like that day after day after day. You don't actually have the flu...just the feeling of it. You do what you have to do. You be what you have to be. You eat what you have to eat. You say what you have to say. You smile when you need to smile. You try not to cry. You live. You breathe. You are The Walking Dead. Not every day, but most days. People say "Be Grateful your alive." Ah yes...G-R-A-T-E-F-U-L Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. People say "Be positive." Ah yes...P-O-S-I-T-I-V-E Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. People say "Life could be worse." Ah yes...W-O-R-S-E Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. People say "Be Thankful." Ah yes...T-H-A-N-K-F-U-L Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Grateful. Positive. Worse. Thankful. The Walking Dead. I'm Alive. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. See you T-O-M--O-R-R-O-W Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.Thanks!!
Friday, August 26, 2011
The Old Me Visit and The Zombie
The Old Me takes a trip to her old stomping grounds where she used to work up north. Time marches on. But she is sad. She feels stuck. Stuck. Stuck. Stuck. The New Me doesn't care. She lets The Old Me go because there isn't anything going on and it does give fuel to the fire later on when the depression starts and the anxiety starts. The Old Me meets up with a couple of great friends --Ducky, who tragically lost her husband a year and a half ago, and Photo Girl, who has been her best bud for a long time. Both friends know The Old Me very well and love even The New Me. Yet, The Old Me is frustrated because Ducky is moving on...new life for her. Photo Girl is moving on...life for her. The Old Me is stuck. Stuck. Stuck. Stuck. Just on a merry-go-round on a horse that goes up and down. Same old. Same old. Stuck. Stuck. Stuck. Dark, twisty medical condition... no better, no worse. Stuck. Stuck. Stuck. The Crouching Tiger starts stretching. Stretching. Stretching. Stretching. STOP!!! The Old Me screams! It does, but it uncurls It's tail leaving fire down the back. The Old Me can deal with that, but then The Zombie enters. Even The New Me doesn't control The Zombie. The Zombie brings tired. Tired. Tired. Tired. Having The Zombie squishes The Old Me because The Old Me just doesn't have the strength to fight The Zombie and The New Me takes over. *sigh* *sigh* *sigh* The Zombie feels either one of two ways...anyone can imagine either way...1)Makes The New Me feel like she is walking through water or 2)The Zombie hangs out 2 inches invisibly past the skin making it feel like The New Me is that much bigger. The Zombie squishes thinking and reasoning and makes The New Me have to even command the body. Walk. Walk. Walk. Sit. Stand. Eat. Move your hand. Get out of car. Sometimes, The Zombie makes it sooo Dark and Twisty that The New Me has to even think about breathing. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. The New Me is NOT happy she has to drive home with The Zombie. Tired. Tired. Tired. The Old Me agrees. Maybe driving an hour to have lunch and an hour home wasn't the best idea, but she loves her friends, Ducky and Photo Girl and would do it again. The New Me is too busy to argue because The Zombie is still there. The Old Me still feels stuck and squished because of The Zombie. Even Crouching Tiger feels oppressed when The Zombie is around. Tired. Tired. Tired. Stuck. Stuck. Stuck.
Journal From 8-18-11
To understand any more of this blog, you'll have to read what I wrote in my journal on the 18th of this month.
I stand so close to the edge. The brink. The fine line. Blah. Blah. Blah. Had a nightmare during my nap. I was falling in the abyss screaming "Help Me!!!" at the top of my lungs. There is a part of me that thinks it is the real me that I saw in my nightmare. I don't know when it happened or where but it's like I switched places with this other Kristina. This person. This impostor, who I don't even know. I took over her body and her life. I'm Alice who fell down the rabbit hole. This world. This body. Her life events are similar, but different. Just skewed enough that I'm the only one that feels something is not right, but what... I don't know. I now divide my life into two categories...The Old Me and The New Me. If you never met The Old Me, never understood The Old Me, never really "got" The Old Me -- you can't fathom The New Me. With The Old Me anchor, I look, sound, feel, behave soo ODD. There is no way to define The New Me without wanting to put complex mental medical things -- so many medical things. Dark, twisty, unknown things. I see The Old Me in my dreams. In my thoughts. In my memories. She is sad. She is waiting. She feels anger. She feels trapped. The New Me is not going to let her free. Not for a long time. Maybe never again. The New Me doesn't like it when The Old Me tries to come out. The New Me has powerful friends. One is Crouching Tiger. Crouching Tiger is pain. Terrible, terrible, terrible pain. It is always there on the edges of my head. It stays curled up for the most part but I feel it always there. It stretches at times...testing. Testing. Testing. Testing. Making me question. Dark, twisty medical things - take meds, don't, take meds, don't. It curls back up - no meds. Good. but sometimes Crouching Tiger decides "Today is THE day." It stretches and stretches and stretches until the tiger is there clawing and fighting and pushing to be free, to get out, to leave as much pain and destruction as possible. It roars it's terrible roar and It joins forces with The New Me. Dark, twisty medical things have to happen. Drugs that make The Old Me a prisoner still have to be taken. The Crouching Tiger is beaten back into it's curling position. it is NOT happy either, but dark and twisty medical things and The New Me control It as well. The New Me has the dark and twisty medical things and dark and twisty drugs on her side. They give her the power of confusion and impulsivity. They help The New Me look incompetent. The dark and twisty medical things took away The Old Me's special power of decent eyesight even with her glasses and the ability to drive after dark. So The New Me sneers at The old Me and says hateful things causing tears...lots and lots of tears which The Crouching Tiger loves. It loves the tears.
I stand so close to the edge. The brink. The fine line. Blah. Blah. Blah. Had a nightmare during my nap. I was falling in the abyss screaming "Help Me!!!" at the top of my lungs. There is a part of me that thinks it is the real me that I saw in my nightmare. I don't know when it happened or where but it's like I switched places with this other Kristina. This person. This impostor, who I don't even know. I took over her body and her life. I'm Alice who fell down the rabbit hole. This world. This body. Her life events are similar, but different. Just skewed enough that I'm the only one that feels something is not right, but what... I don't know. I now divide my life into two categories...The Old Me and The New Me. If you never met The Old Me, never understood The Old Me, never really "got" The Old Me -- you can't fathom The New Me. With The Old Me anchor, I look, sound, feel, behave soo ODD. There is no way to define The New Me without wanting to put complex mental medical things -- so many medical things. Dark, twisty, unknown things. I see The Old Me in my dreams. In my thoughts. In my memories. She is sad. She is waiting. She feels anger. She feels trapped. The New Me is not going to let her free. Not for a long time. Maybe never again. The New Me doesn't like it when The Old Me tries to come out. The New Me has powerful friends. One is Crouching Tiger. Crouching Tiger is pain. Terrible, terrible, terrible pain. It is always there on the edges of my head. It stays curled up for the most part but I feel it always there. It stretches at times...testing. Testing. Testing. Testing. Making me question. Dark, twisty medical things - take meds, don't, take meds, don't. It curls back up - no meds. Good. but sometimes Crouching Tiger decides "Today is THE day." It stretches and stretches and stretches until the tiger is there clawing and fighting and pushing to be free, to get out, to leave as much pain and destruction as possible. It roars it's terrible roar and It joins forces with The New Me. Dark, twisty medical things have to happen. Drugs that make The Old Me a prisoner still have to be taken. The Crouching Tiger is beaten back into it's curling position. it is NOT happy either, but dark and twisty medical things and The New Me control It as well. The New Me has the dark and twisty medical things and dark and twisty drugs on her side. They give her the power of confusion and impulsivity. They help The New Me look incompetent. The dark and twisty medical things took away The Old Me's special power of decent eyesight even with her glasses and the ability to drive after dark. So The New Me sneers at The old Me and says hateful things causing tears...lots and lots of tears which The Crouching Tiger loves. It loves the tears.
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