Life, Hard Work...

It's half-past midnight and I'm watching a movie on my Apple TV, streaming away from my MacBook Pro, while I type this. I don't know how much I whinge about my life, but I feel that it's a lot sometimes. My life is hard work, it's a struggle, every single day. Every time I go to the doctors or see a specialist, something else gets added to my plate and it's always something stupid. The last thing to get added was Bipolar II, which, is quite a serious mental illness. Mentally ill, it's quite a slap in the face, more like a punch, actually. To top it off, the pills to make me 'emotionally stable' happen to have serious side effects. Something about that just sits as typical.

Harry wrote a wonderful blog post about me, for some reason and I really can't live up to it. I feel like I push and push and push and get little in return, not from Harry, I mean from life. Life has given me a leg injury at age 9 which was hell and then it degraded from there. I survived by locking myself away, just making sure 'I' couldn't get out and I think that made things worse, I don't know. College for me was hell too, being quite lonely most of the time, even when surrounded. Odd that the only friends I have are the ones that I had from highschool, well, except for Harry. Looking back, I've treated people badly and I don't know why, maybe I've been taking my frustration and anger out on others without realising it.

I feel especially bad for always picking on Heather when in IT at high school, I always used to look forward to it, because I liked her, but something just stopped me from getting on with her. Even in college I screwed up quite badly and we had a massive falling out (admittedly, my fault for messing around and saying something really stupid). Strangely enough, now, I'd trust her with pretty much anything. Maybe I changed, maybe I value things differently, I don't know. Everything Heather does for me, or helps me with, no matter how small, makes me think just much of a shitty friend I've been and nothing will make up for that.

I blame myself for a lot of things, I blame myself for being the way I am, for having not one genetic issues, but three. Ehlers-Danlos is bad enough on it's on, mixed with Marfans and Bipolar and well, honestly it makes me want to give up now. Before I knew about these conditions, before I knew about the EDS (which, honestly, I consider the main 'problem' ) I think I was just angry and I just kept pushing myself because I believed I should be able to do more, but in reality I couldn't. The other day I saw someone I knew in college and she told me that I was always able to do what I put my mind to, and asked what had changed. What's changed isn't my drive or determination, it's my fight, my striving to match or exceed everyone else. I just can't do it anymore, I can't fight to keep up with everyone else while my body (and now, my mind) is breaking down around me.

So, as honoured as I am to have Harry respect me like that, I don't deserve it in the slightest. I'm a hard person to be around, I'm irritating and exhausting at times and I often don't think about what peoples' reactions or opinions will be and try to force my own on them. I just am and I can't stand it. If I could've been born somewhere else as someone else, even something else, this whatever-it-is, if there is something in there that carries on other than the body/mind, would've had something that wasn't so tiring and might have had an easier time. I've been told all my life that everyone has issues and that everyone has something that ails them and mine are no more important than others.

I am a bias, horrid person, things like cancer and diabetes annoy me, because most of them are self-inflicted. Most of the people with those conditions had a choice and chose to ignore it, where I didn't. I didn't have the choice of being born or being in constant pain. Even benefits, which are being harked about at the moment, they are next to impossible for me to get, I get lowest care, because I'm not safe at making food for myself and I proved that yesterday by hurting my wrist adding tuna and mayonnaise together in a bowl. I managed to open the ring-pull lid of the small can and put it in the bowl, but mixing? Using a fork? I can't even do that. I feel like a constant burden on everyone. Although Harry looks forward to Saturdays with me and I look forward to them too, I can barely get through them and it hurts. I wish I could do more to deserve what I have.

I like things I like spending money, I always have, I surround myself with things to keep my addled brain busy and away from thoughts like this post. Sometimes I want to curl up into a ball, so tightly that I just disappear, but it doesn't happen. I'm scared that I will disappoint these people who I mean something to. Harry, and Myriam too. I worry that I can't control what goes on in my head and I'll eventually want to drive them away for some reason so that I can properly 'give up'. It's been over a year now since I was diagnosed with EDS and I'm struggling to cope, I don't know if I can see myself in 5 years time, I just don't know if I can last that long, seeing as I've already lost my fight. I'm scared that I won't care how people will feel, I'm scared that I'll just be selfish and cowardly.

I might delete this when I've had a sleep and more painkillers and I'm thinking a lot less spiralling into darkness, I don't know. All I know is, I certainly won't be tweeting a link to it.