Inside My Mind

Last night there was a respite in the coughs and gasps that have disrupted my sleep lately. I managed to get some rest for about four hours last night without incident. I woke this morning with that suffocating feeling which led to another round of heavy coughing, which has now lessened.

Over the last week I have attempted to be out and about more. I have taken the boys, Frankie and Gizmo, out two or three times. It has not been easy and left me drained, but I did it. I have pushed to act like a person unaffected by multiple medical concerns and give a facade of living. Yet, I am merely surviving, not living.

Two 2-hour naps took up most of the afternoon and early evening. The fight for air woke me between the two naps. As usual I became disoriented as the cluster headaches played havoc causing me to nearly scream in pain and agony. Any attempt to scream was met with the inability to catch my breath.

Hope that there are enough kind souls to help me relocate from the Cornfield to the Desert is dying and quickly. Even with family members, it seems none understand the severity of the situation. Each day I provide the link hoping against hope that someone will be moved to assist. But how can I hope that strangers will be kind when that kindness thus far is not coming from within those who are of my own blood?

As I mentioned, I am going through the motions. I am pushing my ignore button and stepping out as if I am a normal person. I am surviving so far, but I am not living. The quality of life is nil as I struggle with the respiratory issue, the cluster headaches and attempt to fend off the depression that wants to drown me literally and figuratively in a sea of despair and gloom.

Yes, I am surving, but you can't call my daily existence living.

There was a time when speaking of a breathless night would be said with a snicker and a wink. The connotation is vastly different than what it means for me now. Today another breathless night is exactly what it means. My rest was interrupted once more as I struggled desperately to get enough oxygen out of the air and as time and time again I was kept awake as cough after cough came as my airways were deprived of the needed gas from the atmosphere.

The respiratory situation is not improving, but worsening. As I have stated before, I am seriously doubting if I will make it through the summer stuck in the humid Cornfield.

While I have slashed my goal to the bare bones needed for relocation to the Desert where I have better chance to breathe with the arid climate which will lead to a better quality of life, that cut in the goal has had no impact. The campaign is on life-support and very little attention has been given. For me, this has been par all my life.

Iohn is concerned that if I don't get away soon, life will be strenuous for him. He is concerned that my mental state will slide deeper into the abyss and the pressure mounting will lead to an eruption with which he doesn't want or need to deal. Iohn has a legitimate concern.

When I lose it, I lose it. I am out of control. My mouth runs in abandonment of civility. I become very cutting and hurtful. I am not good for man or beast.