Now before I start, I feel I should give you some context. Little Nigel is the name I have given to my new friend in my left kidney – Nigel the kidney stone. Something which, at face value, sounds insignificant and a mild annoyance but who, actually, is quite painful and has a way of getting under your skin.
I mentioned in my previous post that at the beginning of lockdown I was struggling with my mental health due to the issues my business and future were facing. The last few weeks have been tough, there is no escaping that. In many ways, I am lucky (young(ish), access to social media, a family, and friends contactable) and for each way that I am lucky, I am appreciative of. Sometimes, simply the thought of them and what they mean to me can be enough to get you through the day or the particular dead-end that the day has presented you with.
In other ways, the last few weeks have presented unique challenges that have tested my ability to cope, not quite to their limit, that’s not what I mean. Instead, it’s tested my ability to cope in ways I was not expecting and ways that, maybe, we weren’t meant to be tested.
I am a fairly independent person, sometimes to my benefit and sometimes to my detriment. Facing destitution and having to ask for help was, difficult. No matter what choices and actions I made my fate was not my own and I have relied on the charity of others. That’s not to say that is a bad thing, far from it, each and every soul that helped me is one to be cherished and I am, and will always be, grateful for what they have done for me. None the less, it comes at a price. And that price is some things in my head that have been ‘smashed up’ leaving a bit of a mess.
I was starting to clear some of the mess up. Accept that there are things just beyond my control and, in many ways, the fate of my business and I are to some extent out of my hands. Shutting it down and accepting full-time work again is not a defeat, but instead merely a retreat in order to bring it back in stronger times. And yet, if something smells like it, looks like it, and feels like it. Surely it is?
I digress, I was telling you about the effect Nigel has had coming into my life. I am a firm believer that everything happens for a reason. Be that our own actions causing the situation we find ourselves in, through to the universe telling you something. On Tuesday of last week, I awoke to dull pain in my left hip area. My first reaction, something to do with getting into being a 30 something! So, I started my day, made breakfast, and took some paracetamol. However, to my surprise, the pain proceeded to get steadily worse in a very short space of time. As someone that never broke a bone as a child, my pain ‘reference’ is limited. Migraines are as about as painful as I’ve ever gone (oh and stubbing a toe – that hurts). This, however, was on a completely different scale.
If you have ever had a kidney stone, or know someone that has, when they tell you it is like pain like no other, they are not lying. No matter what you do the pain will not abate. You cannot think straight, you cannot sit still, and for some, you either vomit or pass out. I did the former in the end.
Picture the frame of mind dear reader. Extreme pain in the left hip area (not immediately pointing to kidney-related), sickness and diarrhoea. Where would your mind take you in that situation? Well, that is where I was. Am I going to die? What have I done wrong? Is this the lump that was checked earlier this year back with a vengeance? In that much pain, as I should imagine women’s experience in childbirth, the mind goes places.
Especially when you are on your own. Which I think is the main thing that has really shaken me. I was on my own. If I collapsed and passed out, no one would find me for hours. Hours! Hours in which anything could happen.
Eventually, I called 999 and asked for help. Help that could only come digitally and in up to 120 minutes (a polite way of saying 2 hours). In agony, panicking that I was alone, now unable to keep anything in/down including water, I rang my parents and asked to be taken to A&E.
I hope you never have to be in that situation, ever. 1001 things going through your mind and 1001 things to rightfully (or wrongly) to be petrified of.
In A&E they currently do not allow relatives in with you. So, while I with my father in the car, he couldn’t stay with me. The receptionists have that stern demeanor most health receptionists have so my wait in a fairly barren A&E waiting area was a lonely one. By this point, I could keep water down, so I was at least able to focus on keeping hydrated.
After a short while, I was called in and admitted to the urgent care ward for testing. While they suspected a stone at this point, some of the other symptoms didn’t seem to fit and my blood pressure was dangerously high. It was also apparent (as the nurse told me before I left) that I looked extremely distraught and withdrawn so wanted to try and get me to rest so they could do some more accurate testing.
For context, I have spent time in various hospitals with family members over the years. I don’t have a particular fear of hospitals themselves as each is different and we all enter them for different reasons. As someone that is always brought to tears when watching things like 24 hours in A&E, for me, an anxiety about being in hospital is situational. An unknown severe pain, strong enough for me to call for help and fear collapsing, being on my own, and a concern (rational or otherwise) of being so consciously close to COVID19.
I’ve played down how much this affected me, both at the time and in the time afterward. But the more I have time to reflect and move on the more it sparks an emotional reaction in me. I feel sad. I feel alone. I feel angry. I feel scared.
There’s a lot to unpack there. So, bear with me as I try and add some sense to it and try to get it all out and expressed. I may take a moment as I write this to just cry and let whatever it is that is trying to express itself, just let it out.
I feel scared. Scared of the future. The last few weeks have shown me very clearly that just when you think you are ahead; in a moment you can be behind, and it’s flipped on its head. I am doing everything I have the ability to in order to ensure I can feed myself and pay my bills. But I have no idea if it’s enough and no idea if it will mean I survive a very uncertain future. No idea. When I start to think let’s just take each week as it comes, ignore the nonsense of the world, and just do what you need to do to survive, I am reminded of the stupidity of others that affects my situation. The stupidity of going out when not needed, poor hygiene, playing politics with people’s lives, and people placing their own selfish needs above those with no such choice.
Let me tell you, dear reader, that this line of thought is a very dark rabbit hole to go down exploring. I fell into that trap on Friday night and eventually, my fear turned into anger. That anger has not turned into hatred just yet (as it takes a lot for me to hate you) but I felt that pull into the darkness. That’s not who I am, that’s not what I am about. So why has this particular sense of fear struck me so hard that I find myself being angry at the world and those that (rightly or wrongly) are crossing my path?
I think a little bit of loneliness plays a part here too. I speak to people all week, family, friends, and work people (and this is by no means a reflection on them). This is about me. How I feel. How I am perceiving the world around me currently. And right now, I feel both physically and mentally alone. I can do days without seeing another human being, my only interaction being digital or social media. Social media isn’t who I am. I can’t be who I am on social media, nor would I want to be. And in many ways, the same with digital platforms. There’s a barrier there, a sense of ‘video call face’, it’s not real. I’ve always been a physical person. Meeting people face to face, speaking with them, feeling their presence in the room, looking into their eyes. Humans are social creatures and some of us more than others.
Now I’m not saying that I cannot cope with it, not at all, but what I am saying is that the mental energy needed to combat it is running low with one thing and another. I came into this whole thing tired after a year of mental drain and stress so now that we are where we are, and facing even more uncertainty, what I’m saying is that I am scared.
I am scared that I don’t have the energy to get through. I am scared that I’ll be full of so much anger and so much fear that I won’t be the same person again. I’m scared that I’ll be alone until I die. I’m scared that my business will fail. I’m scared that I will lose what I have. I’m scared that my health will deteriorate. I’m scared that I can’t talk to anyone about it because the world just seems to be full of people that treat words as disposable income. Say all the things they think are right (or will get them attention) and don’t follow it up with action or accept the consequences of their words.
I appreciate the hypocrisy of the last bit. By writing my very thoughts down in this way (and the fact you are reading it) means I am, in some way, facing that last fear. And you’d be right. But as of right now, writing this, I’ve not published it anywhere other than my desktop. So, at this moment, if I was to publish this it would very much be for selfish reasons. To face my fear and come out the other side come what may.
Where have I ended up? After exploring all this, going through a number of tissues, procrastinating about it all for a weekend, where can I say the mind is as of the end of this text? I’m not sure, to be honest. I’m not a quitter, I’ve looked that suicide barrel in the eye once before and never again, so what to do? I could sit here for the coming weeks. Wallow in self-pity. Hide from the world, retreat and withdraw to a play of emotional safety. But that is a one-way ticket to real isolation and loneliness.
Do I tackle it head-on? Tell people how I am genuinely feeling, and the consequence be damned? Continue to just let things wash over me, accept that while other’s actions do have consequences on my life, there is little I can do about it. All I can control is my reaction to it and my actions in dealing with it. We shall see. I suspect it might be a blend of all 3 things currently. Someone once said that I don’t quite fit into any particular box and they would be fairly accurate. I’ve always been a little of column A, a little of column B to create concoction C. And I like it that way. So, I’ll have my days when the fear takes hold, I’ll have my days when the depression takes hold, I’ll have my days when I feel lonely. On the flip side, I’ll also have my days when fear be damned, fun is in everything I do, and I’ll remember that personal strength is widely different from being alone or lonely.
Each person’s ‘knock’ is different and mine was the effect of little Nigel. He has forced me to face some fears that I was ignoring and reminded me of the need to take care of yourself. If it’s said that if you are ugly on the inside then you are ugly on the outside, by the same logic if you are struggling on the inside, you’ll be struggling on the outside.
