|Apr 27 2010|
When I was a teen, I did quite a lot of "stupid" "extreme" stuff, from Ski Racing, to Cliff Jumping/Diving, it didn't matter, the more adrenaline, the better. I had it in myown mind that I wouldn't die until I was 50 years old trying to ski one of the hardest avalanche chutes, and that was my way out.
Now I find myself years later diagnosed with 3 things that have quelled any chance of me even returning to those old pastimes in the mildest forms. A long forgotten head injury left me with an undiagnosed herniated disc in my neck for years. This most likely led to the development of the Reflexive Sympathetic Dystrophy that attacks my hands every 6 weeks or so rendering them useless. Then there is the Bipolar, wonderful discovery that was, at least it helped explain the behaviours I have been exhibiting for most of my life, but it doesn't make it any easier on friends, family, or others. Finally there is a congenital heart defect that keep creeping back into my life. When all three of this hit simultaneously it's difficult enough to afford all the medications, so I'm forced to prioritize. I need the psychotropes more than the pain killers, more than the heart meds. I'd rather be someone who is somewhat sane with less time in this world, than to live longer in the pain and chaos that would cause more damage around me if I were just to finally stop my heartbeat.
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Baseline and the loss of Creativity...
A Letter to my (now) Father-in-law far too late.
Starting to rebuild
Searching for 42
Mixed State and Modal Thoughts (I)
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