I’m by no means well. I’m typing this in a general hospital bed with a tube up my nose and two members of staff arms length from me but I’m better than I was. Yes, the slight bit of betterness was due to being forced into treatment (sectioned, force fed and having medication forced upon me) but I still am better than I was and I’m finding this whole thing really scary.
I can now sit up on my own for a good length of time, I can concentrate enough to read a book a chapter at a time, I can walk to the toilet with assistance, I can just about wash myself…these are all things I couldn’t do when I arrived on this general ward in December. Whilst it’s nice that I can do these things, it scares me. Without getting a little better I wouldn’t be able to type this post.
It’s scary because I don’t feel ready to be better, to live a well life and have a healthy body. It’s scary because life scares me, responsibility, finances, relationships, careers…the list of fears is endless and getting better means facing all of these things.
I’m used to feeling poorly, I had got used to the weak, frail, dying body I was in. I wouldn’t say I liked it but I was used to it and the change in health (whilst still not great) feels somewhat uncomfortable. I can’t get used to being able to do a fair amount of things by myself. I’m not sure why but I don’t like it and it really, really scares me. I want to go backwards to where I was in December and I know I shouldn’t want that but I do and maybe that’s what this illness does, I don’t know. I just know that I’m scared and confused and hugely uncomfortable.