Lessons...

In the midst of any storm there are moments of clarity, moments when things become so lucid and crystal clear that you cannot determine whether they are real or figments of your imagination. In these moments you want to reach out and touch the world just to feel it, to make sure that it is solid beneath your finger tips. And when you touch it and feel the hardness of the world, you know that this is reality, that the soft, shallow sound that you hear is your own breath, the soft thumping beneath your shirt is your own heart. And as you take in the sights and sounds of the world around you, you realize that you are seeing and hearing your own life. It is beautiful and sounds wonderful. And as those two senses take in life at that one moment, the others begin to realize their own importance and worth and begin working feverishly to bring you the rest of the world. Smelling it, touching it, tasting it. This one moment gives you the strength to move on through the remainder of the storm because of that one clear glimpse of what life could be.

I am sensing life in that lucid moment. I am in the midst of learning. Learning about life, people, and myself. I have learned to put more trust in GOD and not to underestimate myself. I have learned to be a friends with a man and that labelling relationships is like attempting to label who I am or life in general. I have learned that I enjoy being a friend. I revel in the fact that people trust me. I am learning to trust people more. I have learned to trust myself and my instincts. I have learned to smile more. I have learned to both vent and tell people how I feel. I have learned not to internalize my feelings, that it hurts me most of all. I am learning to enjoy life and myself. I am learning to give to others and depend on other people for support. It's amazing what I have learned and am still learning.

I have always said that people come into our lives for a reason... of course, most of the people who had entered my life were teaching me lessons about humanity and I quickly learned to distrust most people. There were a few people who were genuine, but not many. It's amazing how the generosity and trustworthiness of one person can change years of distrust and skepticism. It is as if I have this brick wall around me and the people that are close to me move around the periphery never getting past a certain point. I am sheltered and protected at all times. But this one person came in and infiltrated area where I have kept so many people. Once that area was taken and that person realized that I remained guarded, that person picked up the smallest tool, kindness, and began to chisel away at the wall that I had built around myself. I did not feel the first cracks, as they were hairline cracks and did not cause much disruption in the wall. Little did I know that those cracks made up the foundation of the wall. The cracks are becoming larger and longer, causing the wall around them to break free under its own pressure. I can feel the wall where the wall has crumbled in some places. There is a cool, refreshing breeze that enters through the cracks. The breeze awakens me, letting me know that I have been missing a lot because I have been hiding behind my wall!

The wall is not completely broken, but I know that it is only a matter of time before it completely falls. And now I have a decision to make. Will I stand by and let this person continue to chip away at the wall, hiding until I am forced to come out into the light; or, will I somehow gather the strength to help this person break the wall and help in freeing myself. That is a hard decision to make because I am used to my wall. I am used to barriers, I am used to trusting and depending on myself. I am complacent with my wall. But I also know that the world outside of that wall has so much to offer. I can smell it on the breeze that blows through the areas in the wall that have already fallen. There are things that are sugary and flowery sweet, things that are bittersweet, things that are sour, things that are rank. All of these things drift on the air current, all of things peak my interest. I have experienced the rank and the sour. I know they are part of life. I want to know what the flowery sweet smell is. I want to experience things that are wonderful, that are nice, and cheerful. And the person breaking the wall brings glimpses of those things to me. So now, I have to determine whether or not I am brave enough to chase those things for myself... I am brave enough... I just have to figure out how to break the wall that I built from the inside! Hmmmm....

One of "those"days

Today I just feel like curling up under a rock and hiding. People are getting on my nerves. I am tired of arguing with people about how I feel. If I tell you that I am ok, then I am ok. Please don't tell me what you think. You are not me. You don't know what I am feeling at any given moment. I and I alone know that. I don't want to have to sit and have a five minute conversation with you about how I am feeling, it makes no sense! If I am sick, I tell you when I am sick. If I don't want to be bothered then you'll know, and so on and so forth. I have more than enough to deal with without people telling me what I need or don't need.

I think I am tired of people thinking that they know what's best for me. People don't listen! Most people have no idea what I have to go through on a given day, the uncertainty, the pain, the tiredness. Some days I feel like an empty well, and no matter how much water is poured into the well to replenish it, the ground just soaks it up. They will never feel the foreignness of their own bodies. My body is so damaged. I hate touching my own skin because when I look at my hands they are either so thin and lifeless. My knuckles are skeletal through the thin film of skin that covers my hands. My palms become course and rough. These hands are not the hands that I have known all of my life. And when they are not so emaciated from the dialysis treatments sucking all of the life out of them, they are puffy and swollen from the excess fluid hiding within my body. My hands are the first sign that I have gained an excessive amount of fluid. They begin to feel like they have been injected with collagen or cellulose. They are so swollen that it hurts to do simple tasks, like making fists. Each time it feels like they will burst at any point, and an oozing concoction of the invisible fluid and blood will flow through the cracks. My fingertips are padded and numbed, so it makes it a little more difficult to use my hands when feeling certain things, especially things that are soft. Whenever I touch something or someone it all feels the same under the weight of my bloated fingertips. And I can't feel the warmth of a person's skin under them, only the heat coursing through my own hands. I know that when my hands begin to swell, then my legs and feet are not far behind. It feels as if invisible weights are attached to my legs and I am walking around paying penance for some unknown punishment. Most of my shoes become tight and uncomfortable, so I have to wear house shoes. My chest gets so tight, that my breath comes in short bursts. I can feel my lungs straining to take in air and then release it. It is uncomfortable being bloated once a month, but having to go through this every week is crazy!

Most days I feel like there is no familiarity in my being anymore. I don't know who I am. I look in the mirror and I see the remnants of my dialysis treatments. My body feels so hollow, like there is nothing but air in me and when I move people can hear the soft whistling sound of emptiness, of air moving through an uninterrupted cylinder. My face is dry and my eyes feel like they have sank deep into the recess of my sockets. My clothes don't fit. Everything just hangs from my frame like hand me downs. And I know that the tiredness and fatigue show in a face that I barely recognize. At the same time, I know that I am within this body somewhere. That the person I have become has not given up and retreated into the face that I see in the mirror. At least the mirror person listens, knowing that her reign of this body will be someday be shared with the part of me that has retreated. I think she has become a hybrid of me. The me before dialysis and the me after dialysis. She knows that, at times I don't want to fight and scream, that I just want to cry, and she picks me up and whispers that these are things that I have to do. I have to fight and I have to scream because everyone thinks they know what's best for me without knowing and understanding my life.

Today, I just want people to listen. I want them to listen to me cry, or scream, or breathe. I just want them to sit silently and look at me and listen. I want them to see me clearly and wholly, all sides of me. I want them to understand and accept me. Accept the fact that I am in the middle of a battle that has little to do with them. I don't want you to sit there and listen to the sound of my voice and tell me that I am tired! Some days my voice is weak after dialysis and my breathing is a bit labored. I am not tired, it just takes a day or so for my body to recover from treatments! Dialysis treatments affect people in different ways! We are not the same, we do not go through the same things! I am not helpless! Yes, I have bad days and even bad weeks, but so does everyone else! I just want to be normal, have a normal life, do normal things without people asking me every three minutes whether or not I am ok or if I needed anything. If I did I would get it myself or let someone know!

I think, at this point, I am just tired or people. Maybe I'll get over it soon. Right now, I think it's best that I avoid people because I feel the tension building inside of me and that is never a good sign. I think I'll go for a walk, maybe that will help calm my nerves...