I wasn't sure whether or not to write this blog. It's not a nice subject and it makes people squeamish. They feel awkward and don't know what to say. It's understandable - I've been there myself. What do you say to someone who tells you they've considered ending their own life? It catches you off guard and puts you on the back foot, particularly when it's someone you thought was strong, confident, independent and brave.
Those are words that people who know me often use to describe me. "You're so strong, Charlie. Nothing ever seems to bother you." "I love your confidence. I wish I was like you." "You're so independent. You don't rely on anyone for anything." "Aren't you brave?! I'd never do that, I'd be too afraid."
I am quite strong, in some ways. I have firm beliefs about certain things and those help me to steer a steady course through life. If you have a strong belief system (and I'm not talking about faith here - I'm an atheist) it gives you grounding when those around you try to manipulate you. My strength also comes from things I've overcome in my life. I'm not going to talk about that here but, to paraphrase Nietzsche, that which does not kill me makes me stronger.
I have a lot of confidence in myself. Again, my belief system plays a big part in this. I have strong views on how people should conduct themselves and I refuse to be swayed by others, unless they can prove me wrong.
I am very independent - fiercely so. I've had to be. I'm an only child and I was brought up in a very insular household. I was discouraged, if not outright banned from socialising with my peers. My mother also had very strong beliefs, which she tried very hard to impose on me. Most of them didn't stick, but they did do a lot to shape me into the adult I've become. I learned at an early age not to rely on anyone for anything, as others can't be trusted to keep their promises. If you want anything in this life you have to do it for yourself. Nobody else is going to do it for you. That's a lesson my mother taught me and that's how I've continued to live my life, even now. I don't rely on anyone for anything and, even if someone promises to do something, I don't expect them to follow through. If you expect nothing from anyone you won't be disappointed, but you may be pleasantly surprised.
As for being brave, I'm scared of lots of things - spiders, insects, heights, motorcycles, boats, bridges - so I'm not so brave. I'm not scared to go out and do things on my own, which does frighten other people I know, particularly women. Being brave is being scared of something and doing it anyway. Bravery isn't doing things that don't frighten you.
Something else that frightens me is losing my independence. That scares the hell out of me. I don't want to be dependent upon anyone else for my well being. My best friend has been urging me to contact Social Services and ask them to put me in touch with Occupational Therapy so I can get help around the house. I've been quite ill for about 6 months now and, while I have better days and worse days, I rarely have any good days. I feel like I've lost myself. I'm no longer the person I was 2 years ago. I'm just as confident as I ever was, but I'm not nearly as capable. I experience a lot of pain every day. Some days it's very low level and I can walk unaided and I'm not too tired. Other days I can barely move, far less walk, and the slightest movement hurts like crazy. I suffer from really bad vertigo, for which I take medication, but which doesn't really help at all. I rarely leave the house these days, even for work. My boss has been great since my diagnosis and has offered me lots of support. He organised a laptop and mobile phone for me so I could work from home. I can do about 95% of my job at home, so I don't have to go into the office every day. This has reduced my absenteeism, but it has also made me something of a recluse. In the last month I've only been to the office 6.5 days out of 19. The rest of the time I've worked from home. I don't think my boss is entirely happy with this arrangement, but he hasn't said anything directly to me. My colleagues do keep asking me when I'll be back in the office, though. I can't really give them an answer, unfortunately. I never know how I'm going to feel from one day to the next. I won't drive when the dizziness is particularly bad, as I don't want to put anyone else's life in danger. I'd like to keep my license for as long as possible.
As well as not being able to go into the office, my personal hygiene is suffering. My shower overhangs the bath and I'm not always able to climb into it, as some days my hips and knees are so painful I have limited range of motion. I bought a bath board to sit on while I'm showering, which is fine when I can manage to climb into the bath. It's been a real help. Ideally, I'd like a walk-in shower, but that costs money and I can't afford it right now. On days when I'm unable to climb into the bath, but can stand unaided, I'll fill the sink with water and wash myself that way, but sometimes even that is an enormous undertaking. I often need to use my walking stick to get around the house and my vertigo is so bad that I can't stay upright for any length of time. On those days I don't even attempt to wash. I'm not happy about this, but I don't have much option. I've chosen to be single and to live alone. I'm not the sort of person to call on my friends or neighbours to help me out (fiercely independent, remember?), so if I can't do it by myself, it doesn't get done.
I grumble a lot about my aches and pains, but I generally get on with things and don't let on just how bad things are. I've certainly never told anyone about being unable to wash myself before. It's a bit embarrassing to admit that you've gone more than a day without a bath. In today's society, people take a dim view of this and think you're a bit of a minger. To be fair, they're not wrong. It is minging to go unwashed for several days and this is one aspect of my life I can't quite get used to. Being in pain isn't new, needing a stick to walk isn't new, but not being physically able to wash and dress myself every day is relatively new and I don't like it.
I've done a lot of reading about MS and spoken to lots of people who have it. Most of them have partners or children or parents who help them around the house and give them lots of support. None of them have any positive stories about things getting better. Even those on medication struggle daily with this bastard disease and say they couldn't do it without the support of those around them.
I don't want to be a burden to anyone. I have no family to speak of - certainly none I'd call close. I have friends, but they have families and health issues of their own to contend with. I can't expect them to be at my beck and call - I wouldn't want to put them in that position anyway. And I definitely don't want to be dependent on strangers to wash and dress me. That's one indignity I can do without!
Which brings me to the point of my blog. Yesterday I was thinking about my current situation. I began thinking about the future and how I was going to cope as my disease progressed and then I asked myself if there was any real point in my carrying on living? I don't generally entertain thoughts of suicide, but let's face it, I'm not going to get better. There is no cure for what ails me and no light at the end of this particular tunnel. I'm only going to get progressively worse and all the future holds for me is more pain and less mobility. I don't fancy that at all.
I haven't made any impact on the world and I don't expect anyone would miss me too much. I have no partner, no children, nobody depending upon me. I haven't seen my friends for months, as I'm too tired, or in too much pain, or too dizzy or whatever to go out with them. If you cancel on people enough times they stop inviting you out, so I rarely receive invitations these days. I don't have visitors to my house because it's an absolute midden. It's not only my personal hygiene that's suffered and the house isn't fit for visitors. I'd be black affronted if my friends saw the state of it. I've described it to them, so they understand why they're not invited round, but hearing a description and seeing it for themselves are two very different things. They probably think I'm exaggerating, but I'm not.
As well as not seeing my friends I never go out, unless it's one of my rare trips to the office or a doctor's appointment. I even get my shopping delivered, as I find a trip around the supermarket painful and utterly exhausting. Two short years ago I went to Zumba twice a week and I'd regularly go to gigs, the theatre and out for dinner with friends. I enjoyed life. However, I had to give up Zumba and I haven't been out socially in months. My life has no purpose. I have no enthusiasm for anything anymore. All I do is eat, sleep and work. If I died, work might miss me for a couple of months, but I'm sure I'd be quickly forgotten. I'm not the sort of person who makes a lasting impression on people. It just seems pointless to carry on living.
All of this went through my head yesterday. I wasn't feeling particularly depressed at the time, but I took the Depression Self-Test this morning and I scored 20/27, which puts me in the "severely depressed" category. Contemplating suicide will do that, I suppose(!) I didn't go so far as to think about how I might kill myself yesterday (although pills would be my preferred method, if you were wondering), but today I started thinking about it again and found myself searching the internet for the overdose level of some of the medications I'm currently taking. For the record, I don't have enough of anything to do more than put me to sleep for a couple of days.
I had a shower this afternoon and ruminated about my suicidal thoughts while I was in there. I started to cry and ended up having a good greet for a few minutes. When I pulled myself together I decided I was probably feeling very lonely and that was the basis for my current thinking. I'm not ready to kill myself - not yet, anyway. Maybe a bit further down the road I'll decide that it's time and I really don't want to carry on anymore, but for now I think I just need to chat with the doctor and discuss increasing my antidepressants. I only hope they don't refer me to the CPN. I don't trust that bitch as far as I could throw her!
As well as reviewing my medication I think I need to make a concerted effort to go out and socialise with people, even if it's only for an hour or two. I think I'm spending far too much time on my own and it's unhealthy for me. Independent or not, I am quite a social creature and I do enjoy other people's company. Anyone fancy a pint?
No comments:
Post a Comment