You know, I don't think I can really eloquently express myself lately. Or for the past year and a half. I feel like every time I write here in this blog of mine, I'm always either saying things have been tough, or that things have been tough. Thing is, anyone who knows me knows I'm most definitely not a whiner, but all the emotional build up stays with you until it festers in your gut and just makes everything really suck. So yeah. I'm here... Saying things have been tough. Again.
After I full stopped that sentence above, I procrastinated for 10 minutes until I started typing again. I feel like there's a drought of words inside my brain, I don't know how to put into words just how much of a roller coaster life has been since last year, and it doesn't seem to stop. It's constantly in motion and it doesn't care if I get motion sickness from all the twists and turns, highs and lows, elation and depression. I do my best but I sometimes can't keep up.
10 days ago I was admitted to the hospital after feeling extremely sick for a whole week. There. Phew. It's out there in the universe now, lol. Even writing the words 'hospital' and 'admitted' screams whiner in my brain. But I need to get some feelings off my chest, so here we are. Last resource and all.
I don't think most people understand just how debilitating spending day upon day stuck in a hospital room is, and all the crazy shit it can do to your brain. That one week alone I lost something like 14lbs, and yet, even feeling weak and knowing I would be no good out of the hospital, it was all I could think about. Every second of every minute of every hour I dreamed of walking out those doors, packing up the stack of magazines next to my hospital bed, my laptop and chargers, and heading back home to my bedroom and comfort. Yet, day after day, I was left behind while my parents got to go home.
It's so tough on your brain, and you don't want people to know just how badly you feel, so you smile. I smiled and was chipper and was funny to my doctors, helped them whenever it was requested of me, helped med students alike, but inside I felt like I was crumbling. That feeling of me being stuck inside a box, yelling at the top of my lungs, but no one could hear. Hormones through the roof, crying while listening to basic songs on my iPod.
Why am I even writing all this when no one cares? Good question. I think if anything, the fact my own life is so fleeting and so touch and go sometimes, it makes me want to middle finger everything and just be, you know? Pardon my French, but it makes me want to not give a shit about anything other than living day by day, the best way I know how. I think the more honest and bullshit free we are, the better we feel. So I stopped caring if I get these and those comments, or these and those views. I just want to get things off my chest, so that they don't become corrosive and catch up with me every night when it's just me and my thoughts.
Either way, I'm home now. I'm good. Healing. Regaining my strength and positivity back, slowly but surely. It will all fall into place...eventually. x
Sidenote: I'm sincerely debating naming my first born after my nurse. Seriously, you guys, those people are superheroes. They really, really are. Deepest gratitude and appreciation going on in this heart of mine.