Sometimes it all gets a little too much. Now seems to be one of those times. I don't know why it is that I can cope really well with some attacks and, although a real struggle to survive at the time I get through and move on, but some attacks leave their mark. I've been having trouble getting over the trauma of my most recent admission and I feel really quite fragile. Maybe it's not helped by still being so worn out by it, and I suspect that I'm also a little lonely as I've spent most of my time on my own since I got home. I'm usually fine being alone, but I feel rather in need of friendship and support at the moment, and whilst I know that my friends do care about me a lot, and also support me a great deal, I'm feeling a tad isolated right now. I think some of this is residual from the isolation experienced during a severe asthma attack, because whilst I can be surrounded by medics and nurses during the attack, I can't speak. I can't tell them what it's like. I can't say that I'm afraid. I can't stop what's happening. I can't participate - things happen to me, some of which hurt. I can't do anything more than try to breathe and try to stop thinking about the possibility that the next breath, or attempt at breath, might be my last. I am the centre of the activity, but I am alone in the experience.
Sometimes I cope okay, other times I struggle to get over the trauma. The variation is random, and for some reason this makes the more difficult times harder to deal with.
I don't like feeling like this - vulnerable, fragile, weak. It's disconcerting, and although I know it is different from depression, it has elements to it that remind me of the terrible depression that I've suffered in the past. Maybe it's the lack of control, or the teariness, or the loneliness that I talked about before. I remind myself that this isn't the same, that I will get through without sinking into a depression, that this is reactional to a traumatic event, and probably a normal reaction to being in a life-threatening situation. I will come out the other side and get back on track, but for now I have to find my way through, doing what I can to help myself. The problem with this is that I'm still so tired from the events and it's taking such a long time to recover that I'm limited in what I can do, so I have too much time for thinking and not enough energy to counter the traumatic memories with nice things ... with the company of friends.
Sometimes it's tough being chronically ill, and sometimes it's not easy to stay positive despite a desire to do so. Sometimes it's all a bit of a struggle. Sometimes things are frightening, and sometimes it's not easy to tell people that you're scared and lonely.