The pace of the thankful diver

So finally some people in the concil and health services have started realizing how difficult my situation is, and I am indeed grateful that they worry. But unless they have masses of money to kick-start some bio-medicinal research, or have a minor miracle up their sleeve, there is unfortunately nothing they can do to help me.

This will to help mis-fired a fair bit the other day, when an emergency councilor team came out to convince me that I needed to be admitted to a psychiatric ward, since they had interpreted my claim that I was so weak I couldn´t eat by myself, as a refusal to eat, and the classic "cry for help" from a severely depressed person. It took me the best part of an hour, and the the entirety of the remains of my energy that day, to explain to them that my condition is not psychosomatic, and I have no planns to starve myself to death as long as I hold the ability to swallow. It didn´t make it easier that one of the councilors was of the "new age" type, dropping lines like "this incarnation is trying to tell you something" and "mind over matter". I have a bit of a built-in aversion to this kind of "airy fairy" stuff ever since I was severely depressed a bunch of years back and my boyfriend at the time explained me weak of mind and that it was the easest thing to rid of if I just turned to Buddhism and I-ching. Something he claimed made him balanced and fit for anything. This comming from a guy who made me feel insecure and lost and who when I left him, broke in to my house, tore the place apart and when I came home grabbed me by the throat and threatened me. Not to mention the phone stalking and crying for a long period afterwards. I say bollocks.

The only thing anyone can do for me now is to take care of all council and goverment contacts for me so I am left alone. I just don´t want to educate any more people about my condition, it drains me of the little energy I have, and i keeps me stomping on square one.

Well no not square one. More like -15. I know that the only way to survive with this crap is to completely surrender, and those who know me know how hard that is for my stubborn soul. Pacing is all about never to use up the little energy I have, to always leave a little to cultivate when I rest (like making filmjölk). Sounds like the advice a first-time visitor to Las Vegas gives himself, "always finnish while ur on top". Well it usually never works for them, and mostly it goes the same way for me. Its supposed to be tiny steps forwards, but so far I´ve only managed giant leaps backwards.

At the moment a general day can be likened with diving without tubes. I wake up (take a deep breath), get out of bead (go down under water) put some clothes on, go downstairs, make a simple breakfast (swimming), eat it (still swimming), go to the bathroom (running out of air), brush my teeth (really need to get to the surface), collapse on the sofa (gasping for air at the last minute). I then lie there for a few hours breathing, possibly listening to a podcast. Later when I need to go to the bathroom again, or maybe to eat some lunch it starts again with a deep breath and I go down below the surface, fighting the urge to do too much, like cook something that actually tastes good, make a phonecall, or read the mail, so I get back on the sofa/in to a darkened room (above the suface) while I still have some air left. Funny that I always wanted to try scuba diving but never got around to it till it was too late, might have come in handy these days...

I know its a cliché, but it really isn´t until its too late that you realize that you must enjoy life while it happens, and stop thinking that once I get that job/save up some money/write that essay/loose those pounds I will have a chance at happiness. I was happy but was too busy looking forward to appreciate it. But am I contradicing myself when not appreciating the good things in my life right now? I mean, noone doubts that I suffer, but I have wonderful parents who help me the best they can, a man back in UK with the biggest heart there is thinking about me and talking to me as often as my condition allows, and friends from all over sending me positive thoughts. I love them all, but I struggle to be thankful right now. Its a work in progress I guess.