Sometimes, I must admit, the hardest part is the waiting.
Hope is not that hard – I have been hopeful all my life. But let’s not kid each other, I was raised in the United States. Patience has never been our virtue no matter how long we’ve been making a crack at it.
The war is between the will to be content while recouping and keeping the underlying sadness at bay. Developing “long-suffering” is the daily fight of all us Red Skinners.
I often admire the children when contemplating the topic of depression while dealing with Topical Steroid Withdrawal. The children are so resilient. They deal with the flares and go right back to horsing around delightful of the temporary break. I am jealous of their understanding of the distance of time.
Don’t get me wrong, Im no lazy Maven. I do take on house hold projects, run errands, participate in a wee bit of volunteering, attend my local congregation meetings and spend time with family and friends. But nothing really removes the dark cloud, except unconsciousness.
That was, I think, the blessing of the initial Adrenal Supression 20 hour a day sleeping. The time flies and whole entire months pass before you realize it. But when enough healing happens that you only spend 12 hours asleep, the other half of the day drips on no matter how “busy” you make yourself. Because at the end of the day you are still “with plague”.
Sometimes I think, “well maybe if just the itching would stop and I was solely waiting for the skin to repair”, maybe the sadness would stop. Maybe the melancholy piano solo that followed a disappointed Charlie Brown (or the more recent sitcom character George Michael) would stop repeating over and over in my head.
But alas – It’s like ‘water torture’, a slow drip drip drip on your forehead. One drop at a time driving you closer to insanity.
I just keep puttering around wasting time until this is over. Put me in a coma (and a straight jacket to keep from scratching).
Don’t worry I’m not anymore depressed today than I was yesterday. I just wanted to blog about the sadness and stop pretending that all these milestones of healing make me happier than I was 18 months ago.
Of course I know it’s better now than when it all began. But that doesn’t make what I’m dealing with today any less difficult. It’s just a new phase… The phase of crazy may be. Haha! Not. Okay haha.
And I don’t want people to feel sorry for me or “poo poo” me. I’m just sayin…
I will let you know when I am happy. Right now I’m eating a big slice of “just dealing pie” with a side of “hope a la mode”.
Fun times.
eczemancipated 