In the End, it Does Matter.

Pondering Fandoms

If what follows helps someone, anyone, even a tiny bit then it’ll be worth it. ‘Cause in the end, it does matter. You matter.

Warning: mentions of past thoughts of suicide & Chester Bennington’s death

5689c6a5b2You almost never know how you will react when you learn about someone’s death. We like to think that we have a good idea, about whether we would cry or sob or just feel sad when we hear the news. Yet here I am wiping away tears, feeling like someone sucker punched me in the gut at work after hearing Chester Bennington, lead singer of Linkin Park had committed suicide this morning. Mike Shinoda of Linkin Park confirmed it on twitter as well as numerous trusted news sources.

Please understand, Linkin Park is a strange band for me. I tend to take it or leave it. I would never say I’m a fan. Sure I…

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Been away too long

I have wanted, so many times, to write. But I just haven’t been able to, for a variety of reasons.  I do on occasion manage to write something up in my head so I’m halfway there…! Generally though, things have been so dark, so overwhelming and so confusing that I could not work out how to express myself in words. I’d still try, occasionally.

I’m not going to say that i failed, even though that’s what it feels like, because I didn’t fail. it was simply a different time where my energies were focused on and demanded by other areas. A lot has changed of course, including myself. Family members and friends have died, other friends have increased their unit size and created their own families. I’ve had what has felt like endless medical appointments, examinations, tests, treatments, regimes, referrals, knock-backs, major surgery, help and a bit too many hindrances. Though I am now able to see that there will be an end to it all, probably not a quickly as I would like, but it is coming. And I am taking back as much control as I can!

For the last year or so, I have been reducing my painkillers, which I have been on 4+ x a day every day for around 6 years (making a royal mess of my innards in the process). As of next month I will be back to PRN for anything containing opiates, paracetamol, hypnotics, muscle relaxants etc!!! I’m keeping the pregabalin and sertraline as they are for now and will just use the brainkillers when I really need them. The fibro and fatigue are much better controlled these days, and my recent surgery might result in an easing of the pcos/endo symptoms I’ve been suffering with for the last 10+ years….I hope.

Without breaking confidentiality of my fellow groups members, there was much deep and dark discussion yesterday around assisted suicide, murder, neglect, abuse, and rape. It was a deeply powerful group, with subjects that could each have been delved into for a long time but with the time constraint we barely scraped the surfaces. This does however teach us to be more succinct, to get to the point, that hook, the thing that is terrorizing us. Get to the core, or as close to as possible at that moment in time, and stop dancing around the details, details that often serve as a distraction or diversion from that thing.

I have dedicated the last 2 years almost entirely to healing. Learning to self care, learning to manage time and energy, when to stop pushing and when to reach out. There’s still a long way to go, life is currently a living hell which I have nearly escaped once or twice. And wanted to leave more times than I can remember. And there is no ‘end’ to the process, this is going to be a life long mission to keep learning, making adjustments, listening to my body/mind and standing my ground when required. There’s no such thing as a happy ending. So we just need to make the most of what we have NOW.

Memories

It’s been 8 years since I picked up Crack. 7.5 since I had an alcoholic drink.

I feel like I *should* be celebrating. But I’m depressed.
It doesn’t help that I had a horrible, stressful and humiliating waste of time assessment by ATOS on Monday.

It’s been hard, I don’t know how I’ve done it at times, and I’ve been sorely tempted too many times.

But October has become associated with death of loved ones. It’s been a year since a dear friend passed away and 4 years since my grandmother passed. And I feel sad.

No One Spoke

Storyshucker

Friends and I enjoyed sun, sand, and surf with other beachgoers on a recent Saturday. Sitting slathered in sticky sunscreen beneath our umbrellas, we pointlessly brushed sand from our legs as we discussed evening plans. The seagulls overhead laughed louder than the swimmers splashing in nearby waves while those of us on the beach napped, read, or simply watched people. My friends discussed how relaxing it was and how nice it would be to sleep late the next morning.

Sleep late? I mentioned to them that we only get so many sunrises in a lifetime. Shouldn’t we get up to look at a few?

They stared blankly for a second then shook their heads in unison. No.

In the wee hours of the next morning, alone in the dark, I started the short walk from house to beach guided only by dim lights above the boardwalk. It was eerily quiet at…

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