Sometimes I’m like a bath that has been left just that little too long. Not hot enough to burn, not cold enough to not bother, just lukewarm enough to be slightly uncomfortable and confusing.
Do I stay in? Do I get out? Am I enjoying this? Am I not? Most the time you either accept this weird temperature, or you actually try to do something about it; whether that’s getting out, or turning on the hot water tap and waiting for the bath to warm up.
Well sometimes, I’m that lukewarm bath. Sometimes, I don’t feel anything at either end of the spectrum, I’m just…where I am. I’m not happy, proud, excited, joyous, content. I’m also not angry, sad, upset, or annoyed. I’m not really anything, I’m just sitting in a very weird in between. Continue reading
I’ve come to realise that underneath everything, I am a very angry and irritable person. I’m quick to fire up and very slow to burn out. I’m a seether, a grudger, a hater of all things. Would you have guessed?
One of my friends once told me that when I get angry she knows it’s real, she knows that something must have really pissed me off, because according to her, I don’t get angry. But I’ve mentioned it before that I would rather hold it inside me than let anything come out, and that I would rather suffer than anybody else. Unfortunately for me, I think that just makes me an even angrier person. It has no where to go, so it grows and shrinks, grows and shrinks, and then just fucks up everything. Continue reading
Who really knows.
I’m not one of those people who likes conflict. I hate it. It drives me mad. It stresses me out. If anything, conflict is one of the biggest triggers to me tumbling into a downwards spiral. I’ve always been one of those people who would rather sit down, talk, and find a compromise, than get into a full blown argument with someone. To me, that’s always been the better option.
I’m not going to say it’s healthy. In the long run, it’s probably quite the opposite. I’d rather not show anyone just exactly how they’ve hurt me, or how angry I am, so it just ends up bottled. It grows and grows, and eventually explodes, or at least, implodes, into something not good at all. I’m an internal combustor, a nuclear bomb that only collapses inwards rather than shatters outwards. Continue reading
I have flare ups reasonably regularly, but from the outside you can’t really tell. Unless you’re privy to my bathroom routine, have super hearing for the grumblings of my stomach, and document how much I have eaten that day, then from the outside I don’t look ill. And that’s why my illness is invisible. There are many invisible illnesses out there, and it basically means you cannot tell someone has a disease or disorder just by looking at them; they could look entirely ‘normal’ and healthy externally, but internally, their body and/or mind is waging war on itself. Internally, they may be very sick indeed. My illnesses are not obvious to those around me, and so it can make certain situations sometimes difficult to deal with.
Food can sometimes make me feel awkward.
Like a normal person, I have to eat things. Unlike a normal person, I have IBD. Continue reading
Welcome to part 3. Sorry for the wait, I’ve been training for my new job and thus not been around enough, or awake enough, to do another post. But in these 5 minutes of quiet, let’s carry on this story. So in this one, I’m going to talk about where I am now with my illness, and from then you’re up to speed!
Also, this is quite an apt time as we are slap bang in the middle of Crohns and Colitis Awareness Week here in the UK (1st-7th December), so here is me raising awareness of what it’s been like living with Greg!
Since my diagnosis and NG tube 11 years ago, Greg has never been that serious since. Thankfully Pentasa seemed to do the job, and helped to keep him in check. Don’t get me wrong, I had my ups and downs and it took a while Continue reading