She's Gone

I can’t bear to look at the previous entries here; to reread them would bring too much grief because I don’t know who wrote them. I mean, for sure it was me but not the me who is here and now. The woman who wrote these entries is gone. I don’t think she will be back.

At last posting I was picking up after an intensive meditation course. There were some moments of both questions and brilliance afterwards. But I had also begun to withdraw from a pharmaceutical medication which I now refer to as “the drug from hell”. I was told that if I did not come off it I could die. I was told that coming off it could also be life threatening. Either way I had to come off it. For the next 8 months I damned the useless German doctor in Regensburg who put me on it after the septicaemia in 2001. I damned myself as well as to be so stupid as to blindly trust a doctor.

For the next 8 months I suffered through a nightmare of withdrawal that I can not explain to you unless you have lived in hell. And now, more than 6 months later, I am living with the damage of the withdrawal. I am not who I once was. I am not sure that I like the woman who has emerged. I have yet to make friends with her and I’m not sure I really want to be friends with her yet. She is difficult and sometimes very angry.

I have learnt new words though, like myoclonus. I have learnt that the brain will try to heal but not all damage can heal. I learnt that if I don’t line the edges of my bed with pillows that with the twitching, spasms and jerking I will at some point during the night end up on the floor. I have learnt to make friends with anticonvulsants.

I have learnt that if you tell people you are struggling with a brain disorder they tend to avoid you. I have learnt that I now fall over, a lot. I have learnt that I can find my self sobbing profoundly without advance notice and not know why. I have learnt that my spine is not being ripped out through my skin, it only feels that way. I have learnt that I can swing between here and hell within the space of a minute.

I have learnt that I have no place in my life for bullies or others who belittle, use, abuse, misuse, order, demand, demean, disrespect, or think they own me. I have learnt that finding this empowerment meant I lost many people. I know most of them are still shocked at how quickly they were jettisoned from my life. As I said before this woman emerging is difficult. But she also knows there is no time left for nonsense.

I don’t know what will happen to the blog. It seems so alien and foreign right now. I do know that I need to spend time learning how to live from here on out. As for the rest? I don’t know.

Comments

[Jan]

I can only speak for myself, but I am sure that many will confirm that we have waited, watched and worried.

I will miss the 'old person' and welcome the new. Please stop in again soon.

Jan in PA, USA

[Margaret]

We have to be who we are at that particular time in our lives and move forward from there. I've been thinking about you lately for some reason, so I'm glad you posted. Courage.

[Becca]

So glad you are back no matter which woman you are these days. I've been worried about, and thinking of, you. You are correct--there is no time for nonsense.

[Rosane]

When I read the title of this post, my face froze from the tentative smile that I always have on when I check your blog (even when there are no updates). I thought you were gone, as in not alive. I'm glad to read that you are still here, even if you are a different person.

Regardless of what you decide to do with the blog, please know that your words have touched people far away. I know I'm not the only one. We'll probably never meet. That's fine. I can't begin to understand what you went (and are going) through. I can only offer you my thoughts, my positive thoughts.

I hope you decide to come back to posting, but if that turns out not to be what you wish to do, I send you all my well wishes and hopes for improvement.

Take care,

Rosane, from Brazil, via New York.

[Loretta]

Your friends here welcome you back in whatever capacity you care to share. My prayers and thoughts were with you during your great silence. May Spirit heal and revive.

[Josephine]

I read your post title and my heart grew heavy....I assumed the worst.
I am glad you are still out there my friend, I will learn to become friends with the new you.
May your healing be one you can share.
Hugs,
Jo

[Croila]

I too have been thinking of you, wondering how you are. And whilst I read your account of how things are with you with sadness, I'm so glad to hear from you again.

For what it's worth, you may have (quite rightly) jettisoned the people who weren't right for you, but there are still people who care, who check in here to see how you are, whose lives you've touched ... I hope this is some small comfort to you, even though you'll never meet us.

Please, look after yourself. We miss you.

[Euan]

I am so glad you are still there.

[cusp]

Just found you again. I had given up hope that you would return. I'm so glad you are back in whatever way that may be.

Sounds to me like the woman who is here now is a woman who is protecting herself for her own survival: nothing wrong with that.

I wish you all power and eventual peace

[Christine Olah]

I have checked in often and worried about you a lot. I am glad you are here, relatively safe and hope you will continue to post occasionally. Blessings on your continued healing.

[Karen Anne]

I'm so glad you're alive!

I was misdiagnosed for 25 years. The anger I felt was palpable and huge but necessary for me to reach the peace I feel now. Well, the peace I feel MOST of the time. I found the path to be a labyrinth of sorts...

A gentle process called SoulCollage
(www.soulcollage.com) helped me heal. My other artwork, writing, and music helped as well. And Reiki. (Lots and lots of Reiki!)

Your posts have touched me and helped me heal, too, reminding me that all of us ache on our essentially solitary journeys. I hope that you will continue to write - your words are powerful and beautiful medicine.

Blessings to you as you journey toward healing.

[Croila.wordpress.com]

Hello, this is just a wee message to let you know I'm thinking of you. And hoping you're ... well, managing. Take care.

[Melinda Fleming]

As singer/songwriters Deena Metzger and Charlie Murphie said:

"There is only time to move slowly
There is no time not to love."

Much love.

[me.yahoo.com/a/W.LL6_oSrtZdcsBqo84h2plYKLmenNx8Edk-]

Even though you're not here, I wanted you to know I haven't forgotten you. I think of your wonderfully poetic posts often. Even though I don't care for most poetry, I absolutely love the rhythm of your writing.

Hope you're well, wherever you are.

Rosane.