3 months post stroke

I write so sporadically that it hardly makes sense to write, but once in awhile I just need to open up and let it out. Now is one of those times.

Writing is a difficulty for me right now with a stroke. My brain wants to go at two speeds and it's not good at letting me know when I'm going too fast! What happens is that one side of my brain says, "what stroke? Just write dammit!" The other side of my brain says, "Woah, woah, woah, hold up. Did you hear me? Dude. Seriously, slow down! No? OK, I'll skip a word here and jumble this here," etc.

That this is the main problem I'm having. With some apps, I can catch most of my writing errors. It slows me down a bit, but I'll get used to this new routine.

What I wanted to comment on though was these phases of healing. First, I was in a sort of denial. I knew it happened but was too raw to think about it. I just wanted to be able to think properly and to read. Then, as that was getting better, it was the feeling of despair, terror, hope, anger and so on. I would cycle through dozens of emotions a day. I had many days I just wanted to die. I wished I had died during the stroke. I didn't want to live this new reality. And, honestly, if I knew of a way to die where I wouldn't have burdened Sven and my kids, I would have planned for it. I did not want to be a diminished me.

It has now been 13 weeks and my head is in a much better space as I can see a diminished me still has value, but I still cycle through tremendous emotions. So much of my world is completely the same. I can now drive, go to work, teach Henry, make meals, etc. But I'm not the same me and I never will be.

It isn't like an illness where I will get better. I have forever damaged my brain. It will never be the same. Sure, I will improve and I will probably forget a life of the old me, but this isn't a scar that will fade. It's not just a mark. Part of my brain has died. That has changed me forever and since this is not how my brain was laid out or circuited to run, it can get better and make new connections, but it will never be as good as it was before. And that is the part that I'm having to deal with now. How do I say to myself, "this new me is good enough" when I constantly sense that I'm not as good as the old me in any way.

That is the part that I am having a hard time with now. I'm working, I'm driving. I'm being a fully active participant in my life, but I am mourning the Melissa I was.

And then I am sad because I knew I was mistreating myself too... and I couldn't break free from the cycle of my own self-abuse until I severely damaged myself. And the reality right now I'm also dealing with, is that maybe by damaging myself so severely, perhaps I save myself from an even worse reality.

I know I'm not unique in that. I think that is why I get so deeply saddened at hearing about celebrity suicides, drinking, etc. We all are trying to cope with the world and while I don't think it's easy for anyone, I think some of us got dealt a more difficult hand.

And then I sound to myself like a wuss. But I am pleading mercy. Yes, some people have harder lives than I do, but I'm doing the best I can and obviously, sometimes I have a very hard time dealing with life.

I am not feeling that right now. Right now I'm feeling, "Melissa, why did you neglect your health?" Look at you now? I've lost a not of weight in a few months, you are exercising regularly, you feel good. You are happy and content most of the time. How were you so low?  I've had these episodes my whole life. I can hope I'll never be there again, that hasn't been my reality.

Making our own choices about life and death

First, NO ONE WORRY! I am not suicidal. I've just been around a lot of people at end or near the end of life and I just experienced a life changing event that has me thinking about life and death and illness. Then just today I saw this article that has me thinking more.

On the day of stroke, I got admitted to the hospital the same day my mostly estranged mom got taken to the hospital for what we thought was a stroke. There is no history of stroke in my family, so it that was so weird timing. Turns out my mom did not have a stroke, but she was incredibly confused. After many tests and screenings - while I was dealing with my own medical emergency, we learned that my mom couldn't be released as they suspected dementia. Days and events later, we learn that my mom at 70 years old has Alzheimer's disease and it was probably caused by years of poorly controlled diabetes.

Add this all up as you can image a whole lot of thought was happening about my own battles and my own future.

Also, I live with an 82 year old woman, my mother in law. She is a psychiatrist and a neurologist. So, than means she knows exactly what is gone on with me my brain. She knows details... but  she couldn't help Sven while I was in the hospital because she doesn't know where to find things in the kitchen or how to prepare meals. She wanted to be helpful, but she doesn't know how to be helpful in tasks anymore. Her world is very small. She knows how to drive to and from our house, the mall a mile from us, and her doctor's office. She doesn't cook, she doesn't load the washer or dryer, nor does she do anything outside of this. This woman who is very intelligent and skilled is a shell of her former intellectual self.

For all my adult life I have been pretty clear about my thoughts on death and dying. Being able to choose my own timing of death, if allowed by law is really, really important to me. I don't think I should be able to have a voice in any one else's end of life decisions, but mine should be MY choice - Period.

So today I read this article that is basically saying my thoughts.... if I don't feel life is worth living any more - whatever and whenever that is, and I can pass the mental health criteria, I should be allowed to die.

I've had time to think of this because I could have died from this stroke. I could have survived, but wished I hadn't. Again... what is considered "livable" is so individual, like that doctor said in this article, he chose where his line in the sand was for what was he considered tolerable living and what wasn't. 

It gets so tricky when it's declining mental capabilities. The doctor in this article was mentally "there". Look at his sweatshirt - Aging Disgracefully - his mind was there, it's the rest of his body has given out. My mother in law has said since I've known her that she would rather die than lose her mental abilities, but she no longer is aware of her decline. Possibly, if she were to travel back in time to see where she would be  at 82, she might have decided to end it... or maybe not. She enjoys meeting with her friends, having dinner with us, watching her tv shows and experiencing life. Isn't that a life worth living?

I just hope I have a choice. Not to die prematurely and to enjoy my life until I don't find it enjoyable any longer.

Starting again... and not in a good place

I am not going to to into all the details now - that time will come, but I decided to continue with this blog as it's the whole story. There are lots of gaps, but this whole journey of trying to be fitter and living healthier is here... me trying to fight my demons over and over again.

And I'm emotionally tired.  My fear is that I will die prematurely from these demons as I cannot keep it all under control.

There is literally only one more avenue I can think of that even has a glimmer of hope for me for finding longer success in beating these demons and that is using antidepressants for my seasonal affect disorder. I'm pretty sure I need them now too as I'm miserable. I am NOT dealing well with the new world I find myself in. I can find no joy in nearly anything. I can't eat what I want. I don't even want to eat anything as the food is making me hate even thinking about food. I'm trapped at home or on my bike. My life goes between therapy appointments for my stroke and home. I don't ever recall feeling this low for this long. My life is  cleaning cat vomit or poop, teaching my son some units of English or Geography and avoiding my mother in law whenever she is home. And my my patience for ANYTHING right now is zilch. And because I'm not myself and gloomy and miserable, no one wants to be around me, so I'm more lonely and miserable.