As you probably know, either from having seen me in the past few months; or reading my blogs – things have been pretty crap of late. Really it seems like since I moved out the flat I’ve had nothing but bad luck. A situation in work meant that the office became an untenable environment for me. As if that wasn’t bad enough, I fell ill with blood poisoning from a root canal gone wrong. It completely knocked it out of me and left me drained. Then the rabbit died. Jake got me the rabbits following a rough patch a few years ago; it’s a well known fact having an animal makes you feel better – stroking is therapeutic and having something to look after gives you purpose. So for Simba to die when I felt low again was a real blow. At this point, down in the dumps and wondering what else life could possibly throw at me, it threw the biggie. It threatened the one thing that really was my world – and that shock me more than anything. Sleep went out the window and I permanently felt butterflies in my stomach. Not the pleasant sort.
I wrestled with this problem for a few weeks; it got gradually better as I escaped away to Dublin for a few days with Jake. And talking to people; whether it was a counsellor or friends did make me feel better too. But I still couldn’t get rid of the horrible feeling in my gut. Like an instinct of something bad to come.
Then on Thursday I couldn’t sleep, again. This time however it wasn’t due to worrying. I had a pain in my side I couldn’t ignore. So Friday prompted a trip to the emergency doctors. At first she was a little confused, there wasn’t an obvious medical solution. But when I told her I had been stressed she suggested a hernia.
I’ve always associated ‘hernia’ with aging men lifting something too heavy, so when she said it I was a bit taken aback. She went on to explain, if your stressed, significantly stressed; you’re tense. Constantly. Stomach muscles aren’t meant to be held tense all the time. My stress put stress on my stomach, and ta-da! – hernia!
I guess hearing that, finding out I’d given myself a hernia was the biggest kick in the stomach (no association intended). I’ve always believed ‘everything happens for a reason’ so I guess I’ve been sitting around waiting for the bad stuff to end. It doesn’t seem to be happening so I guess I’ve decided to step up and take control of it all. I hate being miserable. It’s boring, and it’s certainly no fun for those around you. It’s clearly taken a toll on my health, and consequently I look like crap of late. I hate it. I haven’t been out in ages, mainly due to health. I haven’t done much at all.
So as of tomorrow, I’m not going to wait for all this shit to pass, I’m going to give it a boot up the arse and out my life, and actively make it better. Next weekend I’m going out. I’ll enjoy the company of the people I care about. I’m going to go into work with a smile on my face, and be an adult about the whole situation, be the professional one. I’m going to work my ass off to get the future I want as soon as I want it.
I’m pining for Crosby/Waterloo. I can’t wait to move back there, to a house. My own house. Decorated how I want it. Living alone with the one person whose company I never grow tired of. I guess through all this, through everything that’s happened, the only one thing I really have held onto is just how much Jake means to me. I guess I should hold on to that. That through all the bad luck....I’m lucky to have found someone who can be my rock through it.
I promise next time I write; it won’t be miserable. It will be positive. I’m not sure what it will be yet. Maybe something about Halloween. It’s mad, this time last year we were living in the flat planning our Halloween party; such a brilliant night. Part of me pines to be back there. But longing for the past will never get you anywhere. Life’s changed. Admittedly the change hasn’t been that favourable so far but I’m going to change that, and fingers crossed; there’s lots to look forward to now.
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