Day 86 Night - There Is The Perfect Exhaustion Of Knowing That This Is Going To Continue Tomorrow And There Is No Relief Today

I am so worn out tonight. When I bump into friends and acquaintances, I put on a brave face and say that is everything is going to be okay and I am not lying when it comes to the future. The lie only infects the present when I am not okay, and there is nothing anyone can do. If nobody can help you and you are forced to simply survive, what is the sense in sharing the burden and asking for help?

A Perfect Exhaustion

But my back hurts tonight for real because I tweaked it while sleeping twisted up on the couch. I am sorry because I do not want this to be about my complaints but tonight I am so tired and sleep seems so very far away. I have to get up early in the morning to see a new and improved dermatologist about the rash that is spreading, and I am worried if I take a sleeping pill, I won't wake up in time.

Such is the price of living alone. The comforts of isolation that verge on the pathetic at times are no consolation. I need more than these words and more than your love. I need the promise of health returning home to roost. If I am to build a nest that I can believe in, then I need to embrace the faith that this hell is working.

It is. My numbers are normalizing as my liver functions improves. But the virus still lurks and is far from defeated. I do not know if it will ever be excised from my body. I do not know if I am doing the right thing by going through this experimental treatment. I do not know if I am a wise man or  a fool. And the fear of foolishness creeps up and mugs my soul in the belly of the night.

R-Evolution-Blues by Rene Sinkjær (Triptych in process) 

I am not quite as colorful as the painting, but I am as much of a chaotic mess. It is weird to experience exhaustion and chaos side-by-side. It is like quicksand and not struggling even though you continue to sink. But I am not sinking into death or unconsciousness. And struggling will only make me sink faster. Tonight feels like a drowning of my soul.

Day 25 Night - The Weight of Being A Burden on My Family

Over the past couple of days, I have been feeling the weight of being a burden on my family as I prepare to go through treatment. My business is not going terribly well, and I am not sure if I will be able to keep up with it when treatment begins. According to all my sources, the first two months of Interferon treatment tend to be pretty terrible, wiping out the patient every week with flu-like symptoms. Since I will be officially admitted to the clinical trials next week and I will have a liver biopsy, each day is becoming more important to prepare for the coming treatment. But I simply do not have the resources right now to do everything I want to do to make sure that it will be a smooth and sane process. I know I will get through this next hurdle, but it creates a lot of stress and anxiety. My psychiatrist has told me that it is essential for me to reduce stress at this point in time, fostering an internal equilibrium that will carry me through the process. I know in my heart that everything will be okay, but I honestly am frightened right now.

Emotional Baggage and the Overwhelming Weight of the Past

I have put my family through more shit than any family deserves or should ever have to deal with in several lifetimes. The guilt over the damage caused during my years as a drug addict and the weight of those regrets is sometimes downright overwhelming. I try my best to stay positive and believe that everything is going to ultimately work out, but often I sag beneath the burden I chose and created. I mean, I cannot avoid the weight of my own responsibility, and I have to accept the reality that this is what I did to myself and nobody else is to blame. I wish acceptance meant change, but I so often relapse on my character defects and act like an addict or alcoholic, slipping down the slope of indulgence and self-pity and self-centered bullshit. Honestly, I so want to realize the dreams of my life and walk the walk on the path that my God has laid out before me. If I am to succeed on that level and walk through this crisis with grace and dignity, I must toss aside the easy bullshit of the couchaholic. I have to have faith that everything is going to work out and that my health will be restored and I will have another chance to be and to become the man I was put here on this earth to be.

I can do this and I will get through this crucible with the love and support of my family and friends. Please forgive me if I wallow in such small emotions here and there. If I do not drain my head of this crap, it becomes a toilet swirling with the refuse of my disease. Even worse than a toilet, it becomes a dangerous neighborhood with my fears transformed into criminals looking to mug and rob my dreams, my hopes, and my soul. I know that's a bit much, but it is strangely true. Even now, I feel the pollution of this disease in my body, and I know my liver is not working properly to clean out the bile. But the disease barely has a foothold and if I can survive treatment and move forward, I believe it will be eradicated from my body and I will be given a new lease on life. Let's hope and pray...