I don’t want to keep kidding myself, if I am, in fact, just kidding myself. I hope that makes sense. Do we ever really know if we’re just telling ourselves the stories we want to hear? Are we creating some grand narrative that only takes a hint of reality into account? Each lie we tell ourselves becomes such an intricate web in our consciousness that it becomes real. That’s delusional. Am I delusional?
Sometimes I feel so foolish as I keep saying “when I get a little stronger, maybe I can…” or “as soon as I’m not on oxygen…” It seems like I’m a broken record lately, even to my own ears. It must be painfully pitiful to listen to this nonsense as someone who’s heard my spiel so many times. And it’s become so routine to tell this same theme to everyone: “Yes, I JUST got out of the hospital AGAIN. I was starting to come around a little bit but I got tossed back a few steps. Once my muscles start getting stronger and once my endurance improves, and once I WIN THE LOTTERY OF HEALTH AND NEVER HAVE TO DO THIS AGAIN, I will be just fine.” Smile.
And for the most part, I really have meant it. I really did imagine myself back in good (a relative term) health, able to walk for miles jamming to my iPhone, dancing with good friends, laughing a deep hearty breathy laugh, and living a real honest-to-goodness-in-the-sunshine-kinda life. Of late, however, I’ve begun to seriously consider that this might be another good ol’ story that I’m telling myself in order to get me through the hard times. Memories that are only that- remembrances of a youth that I squandered on not knowing how tough things would really get. Maybe, quite possibly, I’m never going back to that life. And I’m terrified. Because I love to live.
So I don’t want to keep setting myself up for heartbreak. I don’t want to give up hope, either, because I know I have much more fight in me, but how much more do I really have? Sometimes, I’m not very certain. It’s a fine line to walk. How MUCH MORE?
Spending more time on the ventilator this past week opened my eyes to some new truths about my life and how it’s changing all the time. Some for good, some it seems for the worse. My lungs are taking in oxygen in very well and sound great, but now my body is having too much difficulty getting rid of carbon dioxide in exchange, apparently. It has to do with my kidney disease and other factors. I’m not even sure what happened. There are always multiple forces playing on each other every time I’m sick. There are lots of terms being thrown around that bring me to tears at any random point in a day, and each time I talk to a doctor who tells me a little more about this puzzle of mine that we’re trying to put together I just want to tune them out and pretend I’m invisible, I want to wish the problems away.
I don’t want to keep kidding myself. Because I love to live. So I won’t kid. I’ll FIGHT. That’s all I know how to do for now.