My last post was on February the 15th; it's been almost three months since my last confession, or so it feels anyway.
For the past year I've barely managed to write and in many ways I feel like part of my soul has gone missing, only I've not been able to performed the healing soul retrieval that should have been so easy for me to do.
I shut down.
I lost all my creativity.
I lost my will to please and impress people.
I lost my way. The path I was on is no longer mine and now I don't even have a path anymore because I don't know what I desire anymore.
I cleared the slate and I became empty, and I didn't have a plan for what I wanted me to be.
I prayed for something to jolt me so I would begin breathing and living again and I got a little more than I bargained for.
I got "weird stuff" happening in my brain.
It started with an episode at work where a colleague told me had a "weird David Bowie thing" going on with my left eye. Sure enough, my pupil was dilated and it stayed like that for a good three hours. I toddled off to a doctor to make sure I wasn't having a stroke or aneurism, and I went to see an ophthalmologist who had 50 years experience and he couldn't explain it. I had to reflexes in my knees that day and things were a little weird.
I went about my normal business. I went to work and worked the job I do almost on autopilot. Writing, even technical writing should be a creative process but I just don't feel it anymore. I pump out manuals for product that in my mind doesn't contribute anything of real value to this world and it makes my heart ache in a way.
I noticed my right pupil dilating twice and I resorted to self-diagnosis using Googled (as one does) and was none the wiser.
I suffer an episode one evening where I saw jagged lines in my left eye and went blind for about half a minute, and my migraine was mirrored from it's usual right side to the left side.
I got scared.
I got real scared.
I went to see a doctor and got a referral to a neurologist and I finally managed to see my usual doctor who gave me a referral to get an MRI. The MRI report stated that it was a normal study as a conclusion but there were things in it that worried me a bit so it's been sent off to the neurologist so she can determine if it's OK or not. I don't expect anything bad - I expect to be stuck with the diagnosis that "weird stuff" is happening in my brain, and that it happens, that all of this is due to headaches and migraines.
But I got scared. I got real scared. Not so much because I had "weird stuff" happening in my brain but because I had sat around for almost two year frozen in one spot, and even when I had tried to get out and do new stuff I just lacked the will and energy to pursue it. I realized that what I had allowed myself to be put through with O had really just brought me to my knees and I was still trying to get up.
The interesting part of this is that this time last year my depression and anxiety were still measuring as maxed out. In January when we remeasured the anxiety was all but gone and the depression was sitting right on the border of mild to moderate. This was great news. All that hard work I had put in to kill them dead, to fight the good fight, has paid off big time and I could be proud of myself and I was.
I had forgotten one thing though: When you erase and eradicate parts of yourself, when you change the mapping of your mind drastically you need a backup plan, you need some sort of idea of what it is you want to put in the empty space.
It's the ultimate creation, the creation of a new self and the possibilities are endless but what should be a celebration and a joy is currently looking scary. I'm scared. I'm real scared. For the first time in my life I'm forced to face that I have to make up my own mind about who I want to be and who I am. I have to leave the codependent part of me behind because I've created a space so vast around myself that no one comes near enough me with their ideas of who I should be. It's probably the way it has to be but it's a lonely place to be. It's a very lonely place to be.
But, I wrote something today. It wasn't fun and it wasn't entertaining but I made words and I told you things. It's a step in the right direction in getting me back. I think.
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