By bedtime I usually get to a place where I feel almost human. Every night I go to bed hoping the next morning will be better. I wake after about six hours. I feel awful, dead, buzzing in my head, eyes not working and in pain so I have to get up straight away. That is a struggle. The world is very dark, a dark dark place, my mind is like treacle. My wife usually has coffee waiting, I always expect it to help. It doesn’t. Then the toilet trips start. Medicine is ingested. Seven pills to start, inhalers, eye drops, nasal sprays. Breakfast although I don’t want to eat. Then I feel sick for at least two or three hours. By midday I am ready for a hot bath, it helps a little, eases the pain. Lunch follows.
The afternoon then lies ahead long and awful. By dinner time I am finally ready for food although it all tastes the same. I watch TV or listen to music. I start to feel better, lighter. Bed. Repeat.
It sounds awful written down like that. It’s amazing what you get used to though. It’s my life and I am grateful for it. It really is ok. Honestly, this is not just a brave face.
High spots include a 9:30 Mass via https://www.churchservices.tv ,contemplative prayer. Lighting candles and sitting at my home altar. Reading the news. Listening to my current book, I read a lot. I spend a lot of time online helping people. I write when I can, when I am able. The day passes as it has done for two decades now, the same routine. I do all this no matter how I feel. I force myself through it, sometimes it is easy other times really it’s like being in quicksand.
The point really is that you have to learn to be content with what you have and what life gives you to deal with on a daily basis. I have learned to love silence, to love my broken body, my broken mind and in being content I have become rich. Richer than I have ever been.