Hrmmm. So I don’t know how else to put this but I am really struggling with quite a few things at the moment – not corona and iso, other stuff.
Anyhow to heal, as I’ve done many times before I’ve decided I’m going to write my way through it. I’m going to write 500 words 5 days a week for as long as it takes (admittedly something I’ve tried before and failed), and I want to share this journey too. So I’m going to post my #quadblog on fb and my website.
Should be some laughs at my expense lol.
Now these are the rules:
• Obviously 500 words 5 days a week
• No editing
• No names
• Only truth
Also, if you have any suggestions hit me up.
Should be an interesting and ranty few months.
QB Ep. 1
So let’s start this thing off…
Well already I’m thinking 500 words might be a little too much, but then again I have a lot to say. Then also it’s hard to work out exactly where to start this whole thing off, so at a quick thought I’ll start the story off near the beginning but not at the very very beginning. That’s a little bit personal to bust out on the starting line. But essentially what I’m going to be talking about is what have been, mentally and emotionally, 3 of the hardest years of my life.
Now I have many reasons to say this (which I’m sure you’ll read about at some point) and yes this is all something I’ve kept extremely quiet, in fact it’s been a massive internal battle. I was always meant to be and looked upon as the strong one (a reputation I accidently fell into), when in reality I bleed red just like you. And this is what the past 5 years have taught me, I am definitely fallable.
Anyhow to focus a little more closely on these 3 years, and no doubt what has turned out to be my undoing, well I’ve taken some massive hits and had to face some beyond brutal realities – the kind that would rip just about anyones heart out. Again I’ll expand on all of these later. Shit and sorry this rant is all coming out way too serious but that’s kinda or exactly how my life has been. I’ve been drowning, crushed, had a few unbelievably amazing and memorable moments, only to be slapped hard at the slightest scent of hope.
Anyhow before I drive away all my readers with my sombre overtones, first I’d like to touch on that bit of the story that happened near the beginning. A catylst for the disaster that followed. So 3 years ago I had a complete respiratory failure, died and was brought back to life via CPR, and then as a result ended up with a tracheostomy and dependant on a machine (a ventilator) to breathe for me 24/7. Both things that could fuck anyone up in a bazillion different ways, yet with me in particular this was the very thing that I’d been trying to avoid for the 14 years prior. It was one of my most epic fails, especially as on certain days I’d fought tirelessly for every breath to keep this from happening. I thought it was all in vain.
Then, well I was also sick of all the defeat I’d experienced in my life. I mean when this happened this was one of the first times I’d really and wholeheartedly sat back and thought why bloody me? Like depite all my efforts to improve my situation I’d still lost just about everything imaginable, and this unequivocally made my outlook for the future dim and dark. Or I could now see no end whatsoever to my tennel of disaster. Or to put it even more bluntly, it broke my fucking heart, smashed it to smitherines.
Just one nail in the, umm, head.
To be continued…