The conversations so light and the thoughts so dark…that’s how I would describe this day. Getting up was a catastrophe, i really considered staying in bed and pretending I didn’t hear the alarm. Just my rational thinking kept me from that.
Then I had a few very nice conversations with different people, I laughed and actually felt fine.
But as soon as it went silent I started feeling paralyzed. Heavy legs, heavier arms and above all a very heavy head. As if I hardly had the strength to write.
It’s the imminent visit to the doctor’s that paralyzes me: What if he doesn’t believe I have a problem? Doesn’t take me seriously? What if I have to show him the scars? What if he doesn’t sign the form my therapist needs for public health insurance? With each question my hands grow a little number. The air in my lungs thickens and my vision blurs.
And then I have to think about all the people I still have to tell what’s wrong with me. For example my partner’s family. I’ve been wanting to do that for 2 (!) years now. I don’t want to make a secret out of my illness. But I’ve been using all my perfect facades for such a long time that I’m always scared people won’t believe me. There’s nothing I fear more than a sentence such as: “I’m also angry from time to time, you must not pathologize that.”
One thought chases the next, my body grows heavier and I feel smaller and smaller. I need an emergency plan in case the appointment doesn’t go well. Running. Running would be a good thing, that would also make today’s Diary Card a little brighter. We’ll see if I can manage that. I am so incredibly tired.