Something that made me smile. I was recalling how in July of 2019, just before my transplant, I was sitting in absolute silence on my computer chair, as I am now, staring down my hallway, thinking how I enjoyed my alone time in my cozy apartment, and wondering, what if this is one of the last times I get to do this? What if I go to the hospital and never return, and never again get to enjoy the solace of my apartment, sitting in my computer chair?
And here I am, remembering this, as I am ....sitting in my computer chair staring down the hallway! I felt my face break into a smile when I realized this. I survived!
I feel motivated ❤️
Wednesday 4 November 2020
Wednesday 14 October 2020
Still afraid of cancer
I feel so fucking selfish saying this during Covid when EVERYONE is in danger, but sometimes I can't stop being afraid of cancer. I am so so so so so so so so so SO grateful to be in remission and to have gotten a life-saving transplant, and then I feel guilt about all those who didn't make it, and I wonder why I'm still alive, but then I think that could all change in an instant anyway (I used to feel guilty all the time before I relapsed), so then I'm scared again instead of feeling guilty, which isn't much better, and it's just a back & forth of ugh. And I was just reading the Facebook of someone who lost their wife to cancer last year and looking at the photos I was immediately reminded of my mother but at the same time, picturing myself in her position and thinking about my own mortality, yet also feeling guilty about being alive while my mom (and other people) aren't, while also missing her deeply. It's just such a mess of complicated feelings that there aren't any words for, except this word salad I just typed out.
Monday 22 June 2020
The O & C
I feel like clawing my way out of my own brain.
I've just spent an hour sitting with my eyes closed "checking" all my thoughts. (Not that that's anything out of the ordinary.)
After that, in an unrelated event: going to the bathroom to pee took 5 hand washings. (Totally not something out of the ordinary, either.)
Having both the obsession & compulsion components of OCD is not something I thought I'd ever had to deal with. I always only used to have the obsessions. Well, I guess the compulsions part too, though my compulsions were always internal (checking my thoughts, as opposed to external physical things). Now I got the hand-washing and all that external physical crap that I do...so yeah, full-fledged obsessions AND compulsions. The worst of both worlds.
I really wish I could shut my brain off.
I've just spent an hour sitting with my eyes closed "checking" all my thoughts. (Not that that's anything out of the ordinary.)
After that, in an unrelated event: going to the bathroom to pee took 5 hand washings. (Totally not something out of the ordinary, either.)
Having both the obsession & compulsion components of OCD is not something I thought I'd ever had to deal with. I always only used to have the obsessions. Well, I guess the compulsions part too, though my compulsions were always internal (checking my thoughts, as opposed to external physical things). Now I got the hand-washing and all that external physical crap that I do...so yeah, full-fledged obsessions AND compulsions. The worst of both worlds.
I really wish I could shut my brain off.
Sunday 31 May 2020
Messing with routine
I'm such a ball of anxiety right now. The reason being: specific uncertainty. My lovely neighbours on BOTH sides of me (to the side & upstairs) are moving out for the summer, and both of them have other people subletting.
I don't know these people. I don't know what kind of noise they'll make or if they'll have possibly covid-y friends over or what. I'm thrown out of my routine, and routine is pretty much all I have at a time like this to cling to. It's making my anxiety go from an 8/10 to a 10/10. Not to mention the noise right now as my upstairs neighbour prepares to move out. So much loud noise. I'm on edge, every molecule of my body, every square inch of skin, every hair, is standing on end.
You know this feeling, right? This feeling of your routine being fucked with, especially during a time of high anxiety?
You know this feeling of every little piece of your body quivering with nauseating discomfort?
I've made a little bit of progress with OCD; I don't want to regress now. A few steps forward....let's not step back. Not yet.
I know treatment (or heck, any kind of progress) isn't a straight line, but c'mon, brain, give me a break!
I don't know these people. I don't know what kind of noise they'll make or if they'll have possibly covid-y friends over or what. I'm thrown out of my routine, and routine is pretty much all I have at a time like this to cling to. It's making my anxiety go from an 8/10 to a 10/10. Not to mention the noise right now as my upstairs neighbour prepares to move out. So much loud noise. I'm on edge, every molecule of my body, every square inch of skin, every hair, is standing on end.
You know this feeling, right? This feeling of your routine being fucked with, especially during a time of high anxiety?
You know this feeling of every little piece of your body quivering with nauseating discomfort?
I've made a little bit of progress with OCD; I don't want to regress now. A few steps forward....let's not step back. Not yet.
I know treatment (or heck, any kind of progress) isn't a straight line, but c'mon, brain, give me a break!
Wednesday 20 May 2020
Eeek! Med change!
I had a phone appointment with my therapist today. (Well, he's more of a psych than a therapist.) Anyway, I've finally agreed to change my anti-anxiety meds around for OCD (something I haven't done since 2012!) as the current way I'm living my life is obviously not sustainable (I really hit a low low low yesterday, and that's an understatement). I REALLY didn't want to do this because to change meds, I have to stop one that I'm currently on, which means big-time scary withdrawal. But what better time when I'm home quarantined and not out & about in the world? Plus I have check-ins with him twice a week. It starts on Monday, so we'll see. Fingers crossed and all that!
Friday 15 May 2020
Exposure that can't be exposed
You can never get over a fear if you always avoid it. The best thing to do is face it. It's the same thing with OCD; one of the first skills I learned 20 years ago in therapy is exposure. You have to force yourself to be around what triggers the obsessive thoughts or compulsions.
For example, I was afraid of handling knives; I was so scared I'd hurt someone. So what did I have to do? Handle knives, of course! Even if it was very scary, it was the only way to face the fear and learn no, I'm not going to randomly hurt someone with a knife. There's no way I'd achieve that solace by avoiding knives my whole life.
I remember, at the time, reading about how people who had compulsions (like washing their hands) would be made to do activities like handling garbage, and then move up to handling garbage and not washing their hands afterwards...etc, etc. Now 20 years later I've become one of them--the hand washers/cleanliness-obsessed--except, I can't use the strategy of exposure by actually handling garbage or avoiding washing my hands, because doing that can actually legitimately cause serious harm to us now.
Soooo I can't expose myself to my current fear because the fear has actually manifested itself into something true. It's pretty fucked-up. And it makes me stuck in a loop.
I've been reading about other people in quarantine's current experiences with OCD, and they've mostly all been saying how terrifying it's been to be in a situation where we suddenly have to do what we've specifically always been trained not to do.
All the sudden we have to listen to our fears and engage in our obsessions, and it's scary as fuck. You can look at it and say "well, we've been training for this our whole lives!" but it's not as simple as that. The OCD takes over and everything falls out of control so fast. You don't get to just be good at cleaning your hands for 20 seconds--you end up cleaning your hands for 50 seconds because during those 20 seconds, you just weren't sure you washed properly, or if you were paying attention correctly, or if you were thinking the right thing as you washed them.
So you wash again,
And again.
And soon that 50 seconds becomes 90 seconds.
And you walk away after but can't be completely sure you washed them right, so you wash your hands again, another 90 seconds or so.
And then you leave the room and absentmindedly turn on the light with your fingers instead of your elbow and go right back into the bathroom and wash your hands for another 90 seconds and now you've just spent over 5 minutes washing your hands straight and this is all because you got up to go to the bathroom.
So now going to the bathroom gives you anxiety, because you know it's probably going to entail all this.
Same goes to say about everything else that requires washing your hands. Gotta wash them before eating, but that's not a 20-second affair. That's easily going to expand into 4 or 5 minutes of nonsense because of some way you didn't do it right or some thought you didn't think just the right way.
You can look at OCD and say hey, I'll make this room very clean! But you're not taking into account how every time you clean something "the wrong way" you'll have to start over.
And how every time you touch something by accident, you'll have to wash that, too.
And whatever touched the thing that touched it by extension.
Where does it end?
You never know when to stop, and I find I've been on the verge of tears almost constantly lately.
Wash it again, and again, and again...and brush up against something and start all over...
And so forth, and so forth...
Anyway, enough rambling. It's been a bad past hour and a half, filled with relentless hand-washing and checking--checking of both physical objects and my repetitive thoughts. I'm both physically and mentally drained. That being said, my therapist sent me some links for some online CBT activities. I'm going to sign up and check them out.
For example, I was afraid of handling knives; I was so scared I'd hurt someone. So what did I have to do? Handle knives, of course! Even if it was very scary, it was the only way to face the fear and learn no, I'm not going to randomly hurt someone with a knife. There's no way I'd achieve that solace by avoiding knives my whole life.
I remember, at the time, reading about how people who had compulsions (like washing their hands) would be made to do activities like handling garbage, and then move up to handling garbage and not washing their hands afterwards...etc, etc. Now 20 years later I've become one of them--the hand washers/cleanliness-obsessed--except, I can't use the strategy of exposure by actually handling garbage or avoiding washing my hands, because doing that can actually legitimately cause serious harm to us now.
Soooo I can't expose myself to my current fear because the fear has actually manifested itself into something true. It's pretty fucked-up. And it makes me stuck in a loop.
I've been reading about other people in quarantine's current experiences with OCD, and they've mostly all been saying how terrifying it's been to be in a situation where we suddenly have to do what we've specifically always been trained not to do.
All the sudden we have to listen to our fears and engage in our obsessions, and it's scary as fuck. You can look at it and say "well, we've been training for this our whole lives!" but it's not as simple as that. The OCD takes over and everything falls out of control so fast. You don't get to just be good at cleaning your hands for 20 seconds--you end up cleaning your hands for 50 seconds because during those 20 seconds, you just weren't sure you washed properly, or if you were paying attention correctly, or if you were thinking the right thing as you washed them.
So you wash again,
And again.
And soon that 50 seconds becomes 90 seconds.
And you walk away after but can't be completely sure you washed them right, so you wash your hands again, another 90 seconds or so.
And then you leave the room and absentmindedly turn on the light with your fingers instead of your elbow and go right back into the bathroom and wash your hands for another 90 seconds and now you've just spent over 5 minutes washing your hands straight and this is all because you got up to go to the bathroom.
So now going to the bathroom gives you anxiety, because you know it's probably going to entail all this.
Same goes to say about everything else that requires washing your hands. Gotta wash them before eating, but that's not a 20-second affair. That's easily going to expand into 4 or 5 minutes of nonsense because of some way you didn't do it right or some thought you didn't think just the right way.
You can look at OCD and say hey, I'll make this room very clean! But you're not taking into account how every time you clean something "the wrong way" you'll have to start over.
And how every time you touch something by accident, you'll have to wash that, too.
And whatever touched the thing that touched it by extension.
Where does it end?
You never know when to stop, and I find I've been on the verge of tears almost constantly lately.
Wash it again, and again, and again...and brush up against something and start all over...
And so forth, and so forth...
Anyway, enough rambling. It's been a bad past hour and a half, filled with relentless hand-washing and checking--checking of both physical objects and my repetitive thoughts. I'm both physically and mentally drained. That being said, my therapist sent me some links for some online CBT activities. I'm going to sign up and check them out.
Thursday 16 April 2020
Gratitude VS Panic
Gratitude.
I'm trying so hard to focus on gratitude. (A personal thing, and NOT something I would ever lecture somebody else about doing.)
When I sigh about needing to pee because it means having to wash my hands for the 4th time in the past half-hour, I remember this time last year having to drag a very heavy IV machine along with me in order to do the same thing. No thanks.
I'm grateful to be free of that, to just be me, no cords, no machines, no poles, no IV.
When I feel bored going back & forth between 2 single rooms from morning to night, I remember this time last year spending this time in a rock-hard hospital bed with stiff sheets, in a room that smelled of hospital. I had to put my slippers on every time I left the bed, too.
I'm grateful to be in my own cozy home where I can sit on my cozy sofa or in my cozy bed and feel the cool floor under bare feet & be alone with my husband, and not surrounded by strangers.
As I type this I can hear the train go by. it's cozy.
I'm grateful I can hear the train and the rain from my apartment.
I'm grateful I can open a window (even if I can't really see out of it).
When I feel the suffocating, heart-pounding, obsessive, intrusive, twisted thoughts of OCD burst their way into my head and settle into my stomach like a giant, icy, hard rock, and pinch and bend the tips of my fingers and ankles, and weigh down on my back and shoulders ominously, I don't feel gratitude at all. I feel panic. The type of panic where I plead with my own brain to just stop and let me have some kind of peace so I can go back to appreciating what I have instead of feeling like I'm being attacked and suffocated by my own mind.
I feel like I could just be fine if I could quiet down my mind for even a few days. It's so loud in here, and all of it has been distorted into nonsense.
Nonsense that seems so real.
(What if this time it's real?)
So much gratitude...but too much panic.
I'm trying so hard to focus on gratitude. (A personal thing, and NOT something I would ever lecture somebody else about doing.)
When I sigh about needing to pee because it means having to wash my hands for the 4th time in the past half-hour, I remember this time last year having to drag a very heavy IV machine along with me in order to do the same thing. No thanks.
I'm grateful to be free of that, to just be me, no cords, no machines, no poles, no IV.
When I feel bored going back & forth between 2 single rooms from morning to night, I remember this time last year spending this time in a rock-hard hospital bed with stiff sheets, in a room that smelled of hospital. I had to put my slippers on every time I left the bed, too.
I'm grateful to be in my own cozy home where I can sit on my cozy sofa or in my cozy bed and feel the cool floor under bare feet & be alone with my husband, and not surrounded by strangers.
As I type this I can hear the train go by. it's cozy.
I'm grateful I can hear the train and the rain from my apartment.
I'm grateful I can open a window (even if I can't really see out of it).
When I feel the suffocating, heart-pounding, obsessive, intrusive, twisted thoughts of OCD burst their way into my head and settle into my stomach like a giant, icy, hard rock, and pinch and bend the tips of my fingers and ankles, and weigh down on my back and shoulders ominously, I don't feel gratitude at all. I feel panic. The type of panic where I plead with my own brain to just stop and let me have some kind of peace so I can go back to appreciating what I have instead of feeling like I'm being attacked and suffocated by my own mind.
I feel like I could just be fine if I could quiet down my mind for even a few days. It's so loud in here, and all of it has been distorted into nonsense.
Nonsense that seems so real.
(What if this time it's real?)
So much gratitude...but too much panic.
Sunday 12 April 2020
OCD Excerpts, part II
I really think I’d be OK and get through this whole quarantine alright if OCD just wasn’t suffocating me. The other day I had an absolute breakdown washing my fridge because I spilled the milk and didn’t know which washcloth I was "supposed" to be switch over to. I kept grabbing new ones and realizing they were “wrong” for some arbitrary reason or other. I couldn’t figure out where to move the cartons to because I had everything in its "right place" and moving anything would require a whole new thought process. My brain completely shut down and everything in front of me looked like complete gibberish. I suddenly couldn't understand anything in front of me or what I was thinking. I couldn't understand what I wanted to think.
I WISH a breakdown for me would just involve crying or yelling, because then I could get it out my system and (maybe) feel better—most importantly, I'd be able to communicate what was wrong!!—but I tend to have to keep everything inside, so instead I just panic more, and things get more and more gibberish-y, and in this incident in particular I just kinda blanked out.
In addition to that, I kept giving myself more and more arbitrary challenges (such as: move this carton here and only here, and use this paper towel this way and no other) as if to prove to myself I could handle the stress caused by all of these arbitrary rules I set myself, set at difficulty level 100.
It's also a way of checking. Checking is such a big part of my OCD. I guess when I do this, I figure if I could handle this random frustration, or this anger caused by this pointless rule I've set myself, then that means I can handle any situation.
It's hard to explain unless you've done the exact same thing.
Mike came over to the fridge help and I just told him nonsense things as my mind was so far into panic, racing with absurdities, that everything just felt like scrambled babbling.
I was trying to clean, trying to re-organize, trying to damage control, but none of it made any sense anymore. Apparently something as small and simple as milk spilling was enough to throw my whole brain into overload.
I couldn't follow what I was doing, or what I was supposed to do be doing. I couldn't follow my own actions.
And ....what if, during all of that?
What if I sprayed the milk carton (with the windex), instead of the shelf? What if I contaminated the food in some way? What if I secretly really wanted to do it and didn’t even know it?
What if I put Mike in danger through any of this? I got a flash of pushing him away in frustration. What if I had really pushed him? (Even though I've never done that in my life.) What if I had lost my patience more? What if I pushed him and he hit his head or something dangerous?
And yeah, I've NEVER pushed him in my entire life, but OCD is just full of those "what-ifs", always imaging the worst-case scenarios (and sometimes really absurd ones), no matter how unlikely they are. And they feel so real.
If you've been through enough therapy, you know the thoughts are unimportant and don't mean anything, but they're still unpleasant beyond belief and can feel super scary...especially during times of high stress like this, when all the strategies I learned in therapy suddenly seem to not work.
Anyway, going back to that moment--I couldn’t even keep track of my thoughts to “check them”, to reassure myself that they were the "right" thoughts to have as I was in such a flustered panic, so I couldn't really follow nor understand my line of thinking during those moments.
This is probably for the best, as I shouldn't be "checking" my thoughts; that's giving into the OCD. I'm not supposed to check my thoughts or try to suppress them--I'm supposed to just let them be. Which I did, unwillingly. So in some ways I handled this right, but it doesn't feel like it. I prefer to know what I was thinking at all times, even though that's not the way things can always be, and I have to accept that.
I plan to write an entry about how I learned to handle these obsessive thoughts in therapy. It's very interesting! I'm so grateful for all the CBT (Cognitive Behavioural Therapy) and all it's done for me. What a life-changer (and saver)!
I WISH a breakdown for me would just involve crying or yelling, because then I could get it out my system and (maybe) feel better—most importantly, I'd be able to communicate what was wrong!!—but I tend to have to keep everything inside, so instead I just panic more, and things get more and more gibberish-y, and in this incident in particular I just kinda blanked out.
In addition to that, I kept giving myself more and more arbitrary challenges (such as: move this carton here and only here, and use this paper towel this way and no other) as if to prove to myself I could handle the stress caused by all of these arbitrary rules I set myself, set at difficulty level 100.
It's also a way of checking. Checking is such a big part of my OCD. I guess when I do this, I figure if I could handle this random frustration, or this anger caused by this pointless rule I've set myself, then that means I can handle any situation.
It's hard to explain unless you've done the exact same thing.
Mike came over to the fridge help and I just told him nonsense things as my mind was so far into panic, racing with absurdities, that everything just felt like scrambled babbling.
I was trying to clean, trying to re-organize, trying to damage control, but none of it made any sense anymore. Apparently something as small and simple as milk spilling was enough to throw my whole brain into overload.
I couldn't follow what I was doing, or what I was supposed to do be doing. I couldn't follow my own actions.
And ....what if, during all of that?
What if I sprayed the milk carton (with the windex), instead of the shelf? What if I contaminated the food in some way? What if I secretly really wanted to do it and didn’t even know it?
What if I put Mike in danger through any of this? I got a flash of pushing him away in frustration. What if I had really pushed him? (Even though I've never done that in my life.) What if I had lost my patience more? What if I pushed him and he hit his head or something dangerous?
And yeah, I've NEVER pushed him in my entire life, but OCD is just full of those "what-ifs", always imaging the worst-case scenarios (and sometimes really absurd ones), no matter how unlikely they are. And they feel so real.
If you've been through enough therapy, you know the thoughts are unimportant and don't mean anything, but they're still unpleasant beyond belief and can feel super scary...especially during times of high stress like this, when all the strategies I learned in therapy suddenly seem to not work.
Anyway, going back to that moment--I couldn’t even keep track of my thoughts to “check them”, to reassure myself that they were the "right" thoughts to have as I was in such a flustered panic, so I couldn't really follow nor understand my line of thinking during those moments.
This is probably for the best, as I shouldn't be "checking" my thoughts; that's giving into the OCD. I'm not supposed to check my thoughts or try to suppress them--I'm supposed to just let them be. Which I did, unwillingly. So in some ways I handled this right, but it doesn't feel like it. I prefer to know what I was thinking at all times, even though that's not the way things can always be, and I have to accept that.
I plan to write an entry about how I learned to handle these obsessive thoughts in therapy. It's very interesting! I'm so grateful for all the CBT (Cognitive Behavioural Therapy) and all it's done for me. What a life-changer (and saver)!
Friday 3 April 2020
OCD excerpts
My OCD is out of control. It hasn't been like this in 20 years.
My OCD centers on being afraid of harming people or letting harm come to them. I’m not so afraid of getting Covid as I am afraid of Mike getting it (or me letting him get it or causing him to get it).
Lately a typical day goes something like this:
Did Mike touch that? Did I warn him to wash that or not to touch that?
He shouldn't have touched that, we have to clean that now, should I clean it?
Cleaning it might infect him, I should be watching him, I should have seen that, why wasn't I watching what he was doing?
What was I thinking at the moment?
Why was I thinking that?
In what order was I thinking those things?
What does that mean?
Could he have gotten sick because I wasn't paying attention?
I should pay more attention. What have I been paying attention to?
What was I saying when I was thinking, and what was I thinking about?
I need a quiet place to go think about all the possibilities of things I might have thought and could have thought and what I could have done if they might have happened.
I need to warn him about more things.
I need to wash more things.
Oh, I touched the side of my nose or purse. That could infect him if I touch him. I have to go wash my hands again even though they're bleeding.
What if I had touched him before I realized? Was I not being vigilant enough?
Why did hesitate to wrap that food better? Did I secretly want to hurt him?
I need to watch him to make sure he doesn’t eat that without me warning him I might not have wrapped it properly.
What if I didn't wash this dish this right?
What was I thinking when I washed it? In what order?
I should start over and was the same dishes over again.
Just to be safe.
I don't want to do that. But if I don't do it, then am I being irresponsible?
I should re-wrap that food.
But then I have to wash my hands again.
Why did I hesitate to wash my hands?
This used to be 4-5 hours of my day, but it’s now stretched to 10-12 hours of my day. Thankfully my next therapy phone appointment is on April 24th. What would we do without the tireless heroes of the medical world, especially in times like these? So grateful.
My OCD centers on being afraid of harming people or letting harm come to them. I’m not so afraid of getting Covid as I am afraid of Mike getting it (or me letting him get it or causing him to get it).
Lately a typical day goes something like this:
Did Mike touch that? Did I warn him to wash that or not to touch that?
He shouldn't have touched that, we have to clean that now, should I clean it?
Cleaning it might infect him, I should be watching him, I should have seen that, why wasn't I watching what he was doing?
What was I thinking at the moment?
Why was I thinking that?
In what order was I thinking those things?
What does that mean?
Could he have gotten sick because I wasn't paying attention?
I should pay more attention. What have I been paying attention to?
What was I saying when I was thinking, and what was I thinking about?
I need a quiet place to go think about all the possibilities of things I might have thought and could have thought and what I could have done if they might have happened.
I need to warn him about more things.
I need to wash more things.
Oh, I touched the side of my nose or purse. That could infect him if I touch him. I have to go wash my hands again even though they're bleeding.
What if I had touched him before I realized? Was I not being vigilant enough?
Why did hesitate to wrap that food better? Did I secretly want to hurt him?
I need to watch him to make sure he doesn’t eat that without me warning him I might not have wrapped it properly.
What if I didn't wash this dish this right?
What was I thinking when I washed it? In what order?
I should start over and was the same dishes over again.
Just to be safe.
I don't want to do that. But if I don't do it, then am I being irresponsible?
I should re-wrap that food.
But then I have to wash my hands again.
Why did I hesitate to wash my hands?
This used to be 4-5 hours of my day, but it’s now stretched to 10-12 hours of my day. Thankfully my next therapy phone appointment is on April 24th. What would we do without the tireless heroes of the medical world, especially in times like these? So grateful.
Saturday 21 March 2020
In the time of Corona
Right now the world is in full Coronavirus mode.
It's weird to see everyone freaking out over what I've been dealing with over the past 15 months. Though relatively speaking, a lot of these folks have it on Easy Mode. :P
Ah, I hope that doesn't sound snobby. It's just the truth!
Speaking of which, since it's all "been there, done that" for me, I'm making a guide of sorts for folks; a guide of tips of how to deal with quarantine/isolation, and the anxiety of having the symptoms of something you fear. I started writing it out last night. I hope it helps at least one person out!
Other than that, life continues as normal for me. I mean, I've had to be in isolation this past while already, I've already had to keep my distance from folks and be on the run from the common cold and seasonal flu anyway--at this point, I'm just going through a second/extended quarantine/isolation period. There was a short time in between the two isolation periods where I actually got out and about for a bit (in February), and I actually got to go to karaoke, a restaurant, and a couple of other places to celebrate my birthday, so I'm SUPER grateful for that. I also got to attend an event for the launch of the Final Fantasy 7 remake, which was amazing! Such much-needed fun. I'm just filled with so much gratitude that I got that short-lived little period of going back to a normal life, even though it was taken away pretty quickly. It sucks to go back into quarantine again so soon, but it's much easier this time as everyone's gotta do it along with me.
If anything, all this Corona shit has almost made my life easier in a way, because now I always have people online to talk to (well, a bit more often than before anyway), and Mike is always home, so now I'm less lonely.
But otherwise, no changes in my lifestyle. Life's weird that way, huh?
It's weird to see everyone freaking out over what I've been dealing with over the past 15 months. Though relatively speaking, a lot of these folks have it on Easy Mode. :P
Ah, I hope that doesn't sound snobby. It's just the truth!
Speaking of which, since it's all "been there, done that" for me, I'm making a guide of sorts for folks; a guide of tips of how to deal with quarantine/isolation, and the anxiety of having the symptoms of something you fear. I started writing it out last night. I hope it helps at least one person out!
Other than that, life continues as normal for me. I mean, I've had to be in isolation this past while already, I've already had to keep my distance from folks and be on the run from the common cold and seasonal flu anyway--at this point, I'm just going through a second/extended quarantine/isolation period. There was a short time in between the two isolation periods where I actually got out and about for a bit (in February), and I actually got to go to karaoke, a restaurant, and a couple of other places to celebrate my birthday, so I'm SUPER grateful for that. I also got to attend an event for the launch of the Final Fantasy 7 remake, which was amazing! Such much-needed fun. I'm just filled with so much gratitude that I got that short-lived little period of going back to a normal life, even though it was taken away pretty quickly. It sucks to go back into quarantine again so soon, but it's much easier this time as everyone's gotta do it along with me.
If anything, all this Corona shit has almost made my life easier in a way, because now I always have people online to talk to (well, a bit more often than before anyway), and Mike is always home, so now I'm less lonely.
But otherwise, no changes in my lifestyle. Life's weird that way, huh?
Wednesday 5 February 2020
No language plateau here
I just put on a Hello Project interview; I was watching and following the conversation for a good few minutes until I realized there weren't any subtitles. I got so excited at what I was doing that my heart started pounding and I started to miss everything else they were saying--it took a couple of minutes to get back into the conversation, haha!
I may not understand every word and I definitely don't get most of the jokes, but WOW has my Japanese improved over the past year. When I was taking language acquisition classes in university we were taught that you eventually plateau for learning a language, especially as an adult, but I don't think that's always necessarily true. I've been teaching myself Japanese since I was 13, and I still get better & better at it.
Both times I had cancer I had a huge boost in my Japanese while I was stuck with nothing to do except watch Youtube & Netflix all day. The silver lining to being stuck with nothing to do. I guess as long as you're able to use your time "wisely", for lack of a better word (and I know that's not always possible, obviously), good things can definitely happen.
I may not understand every word and I definitely don't get most of the jokes, but WOW has my Japanese improved over the past year. When I was taking language acquisition classes in university we were taught that you eventually plateau for learning a language, especially as an adult, but I don't think that's always necessarily true. I've been teaching myself Japanese since I was 13, and I still get better & better at it.
Both times I had cancer I had a huge boost in my Japanese while I was stuck with nothing to do except watch Youtube & Netflix all day. The silver lining to being stuck with nothing to do. I guess as long as you're able to use your time "wisely", for lack of a better word (and I know that's not always possible, obviously), good things can definitely happen.
Thursday 2 January 2020
How has it been a year?!?
I've been reading Facebook Memories and....whaaaaat.
On this day last year, I was preparing to be admitted to the hospital the next day to start my first round of chemo.
I was thinking my life would be in upheaval for a few *months*. And here I am a year later---life's still not back to normal! It BLOWS my mind that it's been THAT long and I still haven't returned to normal life yet; I guess I hadn't been factoring in the transplant at the time.
Of COURSE it's fantastic I've come this far, etc etc gratitude disclaimer, but wtf--it's been a whole year of this eh?
Ah, I really miss people & downtown wandering.
Ohh, I'm really boggled by this passage of time.
Unfathomable.
Inconceivable.
Does not compute!!
On this day last year, I was preparing to be admitted to the hospital the next day to start my first round of chemo.
I was thinking my life would be in upheaval for a few *months*. And here I am a year later---life's still not back to normal! It BLOWS my mind that it's been THAT long and I still haven't returned to normal life yet; I guess I hadn't been factoring in the transplant at the time.
Of COURSE it's fantastic I've come this far, etc etc gratitude disclaimer, but wtf--it's been a whole year of this eh?
Ah, I really miss people & downtown wandering.
Ohh, I'm really boggled by this passage of time.
Unfathomable.
Inconceivable.
Does not compute!!
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