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I haven’t been writing so much lately because life has been frustrating for me due to a series of small setbacks that have merged and forced my compliance with more of the life style limiting restrictions imposed by my illness. I have just had to suck it up … no immediate solutions, no workable way round it.
I have literally left the house no more than a dozen times in five months. I suppose I should be grateful that this is not the ‘norm’ for me but of course, I am not. I am just isolated, bored and grouchy. Reality bites … and how dull is that?
My confinement has been caused by sundry, successive, minor health problems, followed by a sudden, severe relapse in my neuro condition combined with EaZyD crocking himself and the non delivery of the wheelchair accessible car which was meant to be with me mid March (current expected date is mid-end of June!).
It has been a period where I have been shocked all over again at how fragile my grasp is on a ‘normal’ life and how incredibly grindingly difficult it is to sustain any semblance of it, especially given the physical toll it imposes on EaZyD whose fitness and physical strength we have taken for granted. In the past year, after more than a decade of lugging me about, he is really feeling the strain on his back – and that is not OK!
Of course, we have tried to find solutions but nothing is easy and everything is expensive. I hate the dependence, the lack of outside stimulus and the restrictions with an undying passion. I feel so peripheral in this world and such a burden. I cannot help but wonder what the point is? And, I have no answers, so, no writing ...
Oh, don’t worry, no pity party here. I've had treatment, EaZyD is better for now and the car is on its way. I know, too well, that things could be worse but, nevertheless, as life goes on outside of this house, without me in it, for all my friends, family and EaZyD, I do feel like I am only breathing and existing rather than living and it just doesn’t feel … like enough.
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