Monday, March 14, 2016

Everything Has Changed: Nothing Has Changed

It's been a crazy couple of weeks: or rather, I've been crazy for a couple of weeks. It's so weird - everything has changed, and yet nothing has changed. Type 2 diabetes is sometimes called the silent killer / epidemic / pandemic because people often do not realise they have it until they develop complications. So it was with me: a long period of tooth infection, followed by vertigo and an acute cold resulted in a sharp deterioration in my vision - and hence to the docor and a diagnosis that rocked my foundations.

Everything has changed, yet nothing has changed. Life around me goes on as usual, my body, other than my vision problems, feels no different. And yet.....

Everything has changed.

I'm struggling. The fear is great. Sometimes I'm so nervous about what the result of my blood sugar test will show, my hands shake uncontrollably and I stuff it up and have to try again. After so many years of wanting to be dead, I no longer feel like that. They last couple of years since I got my depression under control, I have actually enjoyed life and I have so much I want to do before I..... can't.

At the same time, I have had a lovely couple of weeks, at least in the gaps where I could breathe and enjoy things.

Visits from sons and friends that remind me that my life still has purpose, that people do care. Lots of cuddles from Spike, when he's not trying to run away with the visitors.
Visits from noisy Australians - a rosella flew into our window today, nearly came through the open sliding door, and the cockatoos have been visiting en masse, staying the night in nearby trees.
We've been working hard cutting down seeding gums and pines that were starting to threaten our power wires and transformer.

Satisfying to clear them and to end up with a few trailer loads of firewood as well. With my energy levels so depleted, I just do the lighter work, trimming the smaller stuff, and loading it on to the trailer. I do hope that one day I'll be fit enough to reclaim my (bought with an inheritance from my aunt, along with my lawnmower and weed eater) chainsaw and do the fun work again.


While clearing the firewood, I found this tiny nest: so beautiful, yet I felt sad that I no longer have small children to delight in it. But later Simon visited, and so I showed him anyway, even though he is no longer small - it was he who discovered the small spider living in it.
The berries are so pretty at this time of year.
 I managed to grow enough swan plants this year and the one butterfly that visited earlier on laid enough eggs that I now have flocks of these beautiful creatures. Actually, the white cabbage butterflies are beautiful too, if you can just keep your mind off what they are doing to the vegetables.
 As part of my anti-diabetes / get-fit-again-after-so-long-under-the-weather regime I have been going for walks most days. Sometimes just to the mailbox and back with Bob (1.2km) or to my sister-in law's house (3km). Sometimes to the end of the road and back (2km).
Once I marched to the bottom of the Bridal Veil Falls and back up again - training for womad as well - but the steps are really hard on my knees.
My favourite is the beach. I can't quite manage the full length of it again yet, but we have done a few 4 km walks. I do love our beach.
In the past when I've been feeling miserable, and I'm out, I'd buy myself an ice cream or a bar of chocolate, however those are no longer an option. This diabetes shit is expensive - retail therapy now means clothes instead, $36 instead of $3! But I do love my fucking rabbits.
Today I had a bad, bad, really fucking bad day. I screamed and screamed and cursed using the two swear words I never, ever use, and I attacked my face with fingernails, and cried and cried and cried. I guess it was always gonna happen, but I had been pretending to myself that I had it all under control.

And I do mostly. But it would be easier to control if sometimes I could have a fucking whisky. But I can't.

Mostly I'm in control. Mostly will just have to be enough.

Womad. Only a few days away. My happy place. The flag's ready. I'm ready. I need womad so much this time.
Everything has changed, nothing has changed.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

You are funny, caring, generous and always a pleasure to hang out with! Thank you for being a friend and sharing your life with us :)