Bout

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I hurt all the time

It's about finding ways to not feel it.
And when work was good and fun that helped.
When my child is happy, so am I.
When I'm distracted by brilliant friends, their unconditional love dulls the pain, some times a lot almost so much that I think I'm free.
There are other ways, jigsaws, flirting, roller derby, well the last one provides physical pain... My healthy form of self harm.
Sometimes I let drink do the work but it never works. I'm lucky it hasn't.
Work, work was the key and now that feels like shit too often.
Work was fun, hard, challenging and extremely rewarding. Frankly consecutive governments have been destroying all that and it's not just me that is feeling it.
So where as I could rely on my job to mask the pain I can't now.

Roller derby come back bout

Less than a year from my last brain surgery and nearly 3 and a half years after the first time I did it, I'm about to take part in my wreck league bout.

My skater name is Cortisol Crisis, in honour of my lack of adrenal glands and my number is 999, to reflect on the NHS.
It's been over three years because VHL keeps getting in the way. Kidney cancer first, so post surgery I wasn't allowed to skate and certainly not to scrimmage for over a year. Brain surgeons not do fussed, the skull and take more!

And I'm proud of myself.
I'm back.
I'm not as fit as three years ago but I think I'm a bit better at staying on my skates.

Dad's reawakening

The fact that he hasn't done anything for so long means that I find it truly amazing that he decided to do more.
And in true style he got on a boat and was hoisted up, wheelchair and all to the crows nest.
Yup
That's the most recent thing.
I've no idea what he'll get up next but for the first time in a long time I think I recognise my dad. The one I lost about 10 years ago.
He's not completely back... But he ain't dead either.

Angry with me...

It isn't easy to explain the importance of the anniversary of surgery, but in simple way it is like any anniversary, birth, death all.
It reminds you that time passes, that you've overcome something to be where you are, that the next year might be better. Anniversaries give you time to reflect.
I'm a bit depressed at the moment, I'm finding it hard to get out of my own head. That seems to be exacerbated by what I went through this time last year.
I'm sat with my child and today we have cuddled, talked, eaten together, gone for a walk and to the shops to get a treat. This time last year I couldn't move, open my eyes or eat without feeling so unpleasantly such and dizzy that I would rather someone would have been able to turn me off.
I didn't want to die, but I didn't want to be conscious. I was desperate for it to end, I felt so terrible that I couldn't stand any second, I was unable to sleep and I needed sedatives to even allow others to move bed.
The contrast is extraordinary.
I should be delighted.
And part of me is.
As she sits there now, both of us being quite normal I feel partly content and yet acutely aware of the potential of it all happening again.
I'm a survivor.

Taking responsibility

A number of people (I'm one of them) think I should get counselling.
My husband isn't sure. But I think that might be because of the experiences other people he loves have had. It doesn't trust it.

So why haven't I?
I nearly did, I had CBT before my brain surgery. I booked in meet a counsellor that I was willing to pay for, in July.
I pulled out.
CAMHS want us all to have family therapy. I'll be fine with that.

I don't want to do it because I'm afraid of what it will uncover. The truth that might come out. The reality of how I feel about so many things.
Like a leaking tap... I can manage the small drips, annoying as they are.  The occasional spill, but it's under control.
I don't feel strong enough to fix it, I don't know how to turn the water off first. And I'm not prepared for the mess, the inital dirt and sludge and more that I don't know if even there.
Drip drop drip.

My return

On Saturday I'm going to be in my second roller derby bout.
My first was some years ago, before kidney surgery and before brain surgery.
This time last year I was in hospital and I was so afraid. I didn't know who I was going to be. I thought my life was going to be an every day battle of misery.
I tired to focus on things that made me happy, I thought into happy times get me through the worst month of my life.
It was horrendous.
It was a month full of terror and fear.
It was.
Now I'm here...

Stages of grief

The stages of grief are well researched, it seems they are a common list that many people could concur, occur.
My brother has been dead for a very long time. What stage of grief am I in?
I'm also grieving for other relationships, one with my dad...
He's not dead but he's not here anymore, a zombie in fact.
Celebrating the joy we had, for the longest time I couldn't see the good.
Why do you think that is, is that the loving dead version of grief?