Friday, 29 May 2015


Today is the anniversary of the day I decided I didn't want to die.

I'm not sure if you've ever felt your life was over?
I have.

It was around 6 months into what became a year, of constant and consistent pain. Pain that was peppered alongside main courses of nausea, headaches, spells of passing out, aching bones, shitting blood, and subsequently pin-balling in and out of hospital. 

Don't get me wrong; if you think I’m implying I welcomed death, I didn't. 
Of course I didn't. 
I didn't feel suicidal. Not in the 'traditional' sense anyway. I didn't want to jump off a building, or tie a noose around my neck. I am an awful scardey-cat for starters and could never hurt myself. Plus, in films women always manage to look graceful in death, I can't even look graceful tying my laces so I know for a fact I couldn't pull it off.

Also I didn't actually WANT to die; I'd just accepted it was inevitably going to happen. (Much sooner than the obvious inevitability of it happening in old age anyway).

I'd just accepted it, and was (impatiently) waiting for it to happen. It would have been a blessed relief at that point. To just fall sleep and not wake up in gut-wrenching pain. Imagine it! A life without being shocked awake at 3 in the morning writhing in agony or fearing an accident, then attempting to see out the next 15 odd hours upright! It was an impossible dream.

I didn't think very far, if at all, about what comes next. After the 'you're dead' part. Now that I think about it, that's probably for the best; my warped mind would most likely have had me with Crohn's Disease in the afterlife too, chilling out [heating up?] with The Devil whilst he subjects me to and endless loop of Bono interviews.

I didn't vocalise my feelings on the subject of my demise because I didn't think it was necessary. 
I didn't think about it at all. 
I was just in a constant daze of pain. 
Now, with a clear head, i reaslise that discussing these feelings would only have served to worry everyone around me, and/or have me sectioned. I'm much more aware now of when I feel my disease and the misery it can bring is plummeting me into despair. I am strong enough now not to give into it, for the most part. That's something i'm very proud of; Knowing I can beat it mentally if not physically. I think that's often harder. 

Giving up hope never solved anything. 
It's very hard when living with chronic illness not to fall into the trap of isolating yourself; and living solely inside your own head can be a major factor in speeding up that process. It's vital to always bear in mind that constant pain can give you a slightly skewed view on life. It's a unique and wholly unwelcome outlook, but one that I feel you can grow from.
I've learnt i'm not the weak and pathetic girl I once felt due to my illness. I don't have to lie down and take everything it throws at me (although sometimes I really do have to lie down, so forgive me that). 

Even if you feel alone and afraid, talk to someone you trust. Let them attempt to help ease your burden and don't assume there's nothing anyone can do for you. I've found that I'm much stronger that I'd ever thought I could be. I share my experiences with you in the hope that if you are ever feeling lost and hopeless you remember there is always light at the end of your colon. 
And face it, with Bono as the alternative, let's agree to try and stay alive eh? 

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