Today marks my 3d year of being imprisoned in my own body. It’s been 3 long & short years since the fateful night that forever changed my life.
Some survivors consider this a second chance Anniversary, a re-birthday. Some call it their Strokeversary. I’m truly happy for them.
I’m not one of them. Those words feel celebratory.
I feel contradictory.
I’m pretty optimistic with a positive outlook. I appreciate what I have. I don’t dwell on the negative. I accepted my situation pretty easily. I work with what I have to move forward on a daily basis.
I DON’T look at today as a celebration of life, which is why I’m unable to use the words anniversary, re-birthday, or Strokeversary to mark today. That night is nothing to celebrate.
Just as I never ever thought I’d have a stroke, I never thought I’d hit the 3 year mark in the shape I’m in. Physically, I’m not even to the point that the majority of survivors are when they leave the hospital or rehab.
I’ll probably never be. No matter how many improvements I experience, I’ll never come close to walking again or using my hand. Yet for some bizarre reason, I still keep trying.
Incessant pain is all I know.
If not close to recovered, I had hoped to be dead by now.
I don’t want to do this for another year. I’m not happy just to be alive. I just struggle through one day at a time, still.
When I hear a sentence that begins with “at least”, I want to explode!
I’m not sure which one irritates me the most:
…You Have Your Health
“At least” even bothers me when I hear it said to someone else. When non-strokies vent, people will say, “at least you have your health”.
People have said that one to me too many times.
Health, Seriously???? What does that even mean. The person saying it is usually trying to justify their complaints to me.
I’m in constant pain, only half my body works and is degrading daily from age & carrying around the other dead half, I’m exhausted, my left side is bigger than my right, my skin feels too small from the swelling, I’m trapped in a wheelchair, and if you haven’t noticed yet; I’m mentally unstable.
If this is health, I wonder what sickness is.
None of that ever comes out of my mouth.
When survivors with fewer deficits vent, others say to them “At least you can walk, use your hand, work, think, drive, etc ………..”.
To someone like me who can’t do any of those things, it’s like hearing “if you can’t your life is worthless”.
So non-strokies should be happy because they have their health.
Survivors who can walk or use their hands should be happy they have that.
People like me should just be happy to be alive.
Why shouldn’t everyone be happy just to be alive?
Why isn’t everyone? Because just breathing isn’t something people appreciate. It’s just what people like me are supposed to be happy about because they can’t think of other things to say to us.
“At least…”, means 2 things to me.
1. They either want to justify their complaints.
2.They think I have something they want.
Please don’t ever say “At least you…” to me – EVER! If you want to complain or vent, just vent! Most of all, please don’t think I have it better somehow. Each of our issues are the worst we’ve each experienced. None of us has it better or worse than anyone else.
I’m so sick of people believing the grass is greener. Wanting someone’s good without expecting their issues too is ridiculous.
The grass isn’t fucking greener anywhere. What you think you want or would make you happy, never will. We all have bad to attach to the good.
The good only looks good to the people who don’t have it. Whether it’s walking, talking, having use of two hands, a family, kids, a spouse, a house, money, etc.
After rereading this rant, I’m trying to figure out what caused it (besides my broken brain). I suppose it’s because today is the day I should be grateful to be alive. I am not.
I still believe death 3 years ago would have been better for me and everyone else in my life. I wonder if I’ll feel differently at the completion of year 4.
It’s kinda a standing joke in this house that I’ll live to be 100 because I don’t want to see 50.
I hope one day I’ll feel like other survivors who celebrate life on this day.