There is so much saddness assosciated with CF. I mean, it's not like this is a big surprize, but it just kind of hit me. We're all chased by these CF demons.
I stumbled acorss something I wrote about 10+ years ago, long before I gave CF the time of day. It's interesting to me, despite heavy denial how it was always there. (disclaimer: this is by no means a great piece of writing I am trying to post, but only the sentiment that was with me long before I ever ackowledged it)
greasy hair, pimply face, congested lungs full of thick salty chunky frothy yellow gunk. It makes its appearance every morning unwanted and unannounced but she is forced to acknowledge it. An unwanted visitor, a guest that has much overstayed its welcome. She tries daily to force it out, but it won't leave. It fades, it spreads, it glares at its audience, "I am here, invading her body, wracking her with spasms, forcing her to live with my invasion and you must watch and wonder and feel sorry for her." She is forced to assume its foulness as its represenative while it laughs inside. circa 1997-98
And it's all entwined, isn't it? Where do I end and Cf begins? I no longer feel like I know. My weekend was kind of sad. I get it, the lonley bug, every now and then. And I know just how to fix it. Except I am trying not to fix it that way anymore.
Having kids saved me from myself, I know that. I know the path I was on with my life and it wasn't good. And it's not like those demons aren't still here (oh, my little monkey), I've just tightened my reigns. Sorta. Plenty of times I've let the horses loose for a gallop, I just haven't let go again. yet.
But this weekend my husband was being...well, I just felt unappreciated and I while I pondered laying down in the street to be run over by a bus, because you know, then they'll love you, once you're gone, I relaized that Cf leaves me in a total different place at 31 than it did at 21.
I am afraid of so much now. As much as I was ready to pack my bags and head for the hills this weekend, I am afraid of Cf now. Suddenly, I need help. What a hard thing to swallow. I want to say NO! I need NO ONE! That has always been my motto. I need no one. But I realized that I do. I need support, I need understanding. I need it because of CF. Because I am supposed to be strong and sassy and independent. And why is CF stripping this from me? Why am I letting it? And is it Cf I should blame, or it that just an easy out?
1 comment:
At age 3 I stomped my foot and said "I do it my own!" And I've taken lots of pride on not needing people.
But, actually it comes over me the older I get that everyone needs other people - for love and support. The we "get by with the help of our friends" thing.
I think my early prideful self might have just been a defense mechanism since there weren't people there to help me--or that I thought I'd "lose" myself if I let anyone close enough to see that I have needs too.
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