I always have some pretty vivid dreams... Most of the time I wake up needing a moment or two to recover from whatever craziness ensues, no matter how ridiculous it seems once I'm fully aware and conscious. Last night wasn't really any different as far as the subject matter of my dreams was concerned... It was mainly 'Rust' oriented, where we were raiding places, dead bodies everywhere, etc. Honestly, it was quite a lot of fun, until it got a little personal.
For me, dreams tend to touch on issues I'm struggling with, whether it be as short term as frustration with my recording software or as long term as graduating worries. And in one of my dreams, I was dealing with the latter. We were at some sort of house, bits of random family members scattered about as we were in process of running from some kind of enemy, when my closest aunt began to talk about my health condition. It was so cruel, the things she said. I don't even remember what they were exactly, but when I try to recall I get this awful feeling in my gut; the same one I experienced when waking. I remember her commenting on my lack of activity or something, my appearance because of said condition, and no one stood up for me. Everyone nodded, made their own awful commentary, and went on their way, all the while with me standing there, clearly listening to the conversation.
That kind of thing actually happens a lot to me as far as 'real life' is concerned, though usually in more of a passive aggressive manor. Most of the things I hear are about my 'laziness', the second most being the things my skin does. And yes, I know it's gross when someone has their skin flaking off or to see their limbs swell and ooze, but what people seem to forget is that I have to struggle with this on a daily basis. I didn't ask to have this disease, and while I've learned to live with it I'm far from happy. I can't wear long sleeve shirts without ruining the fabric, I'm constantly exhausted, I often can't wear make-up on the left side of my face, I can't cosplay and facepaint freely--it has to stick to the often random schedule of my flare ups. Things that people take for granted every day. Sometimes it gets so bad that I can't even move my arms... that's no way to live, and to hear people make such horrible comments about it hurts me more than they even realize. And it doesn't help that no doctor I've seen over the last few years can put a name to this... thing. I've literally stumped every kind of doctor there is out there, and they'll be putting me up on a medical panel soon to see if the best of the best can figure this stupid thing out. However, it's taken almost two years for my doctors to start taking me seriously. At first they said I was depressed, then when the rashes sprouted they called it ringworm, and now that most of my upper body is covered in this monstrosity, they've finally realized just how much they've messed up.
No kid should have to be too exhausted to even just get out of bed, participate in the things he/she loves, to live. I've had to drop out of school because I can't function long enough to learn and what not. It's driving me crazy, and while quite a lot of the pressure has been lifted now that I stay at home, my depression is worsening. I can't leave the house for long, which means I can't do any of the things I previously liked to do excluding computer activities. I can't go shopping, go out to eat, walk my dog, attend cons, nothing without feeling so incredibly drained I need to sleep for 16 some hours before I can even think of getting out of bed. And what makes all this worse is that people still don't understand. My friends, my family; I get so much negativity from people, even strangers. It's so incredibly unfair...
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