This may be more of a broken up rant than a fully formed whatever, but just go with me here. Or don’t, because sometimes my blog is my therapy so that’s good enough for me!…
I’ve had this idea that if I cocoon myself away, then I can “rejoin” my old life after I get myself “better”. Maybe you are starting to see the problem with this logic already, but it has taken me a while. I had some cocoon moments before this current life of mine also, but that’s not where my thoughts are right now.
CRPS makes me feel broken. At times, I will refer to my body as broken. I thought if I could lock myself away until I wasn’t broken, that would be a good plan. Well, we’re into Year 4 and I’m still shades of broken.
What do I do with this plan if I’m never going to be back to my old life again? Is my cocoon becoming a coffin? A self prescribed dead, and dark place?
Maybe my up and down feelings have something to do with it. One day I may look at photos of my old life and feel happy, grateful, excited, and motivated to get back and the journey to get there. Another day, a glimpse of the same memory can turn me into a foul monster with only hate, jealousy, and anger for feelings. On the monster days, sometimes all I can think to myself is, what the fuck? How can I know what to expect when I don’t know how my brain will react? Can I expect anybody to really understand these feelings if I still don’t?
So is the cocoon good, or bad? It’s certainly easier than the alternative most times. Cocooning can help me focus on what I need to do, and what steps I can take to get there. Cocooning can also help me work through my thoughts without subjecting anyone else to the back and forth brain banter. Yet, it can also cut me off from people. Cocooning may be denial in disguise. Cocooning can help me be selfish, sometimes in the right way and sometimes in the wrong way.
If I’m in the cocoon, maybe I don’t have to verbalize that my old life is just that. My old life. As in, it’s no longer my life. I know my life is different, it has been worlds different for over 3 years now. If only knowledge and feelings met up one in a while.
You may be thinking, haven’t you accepted this? It seems like you have. I ask myself, haven’t I accepted this? Well, yes and no and sure and never. I think it is really easy to flop between acceptance and back to denial. Pessimism, acceptance. Optimism, denial. Or is it that optimism is acceptance and pessimism is denial? Where does realism fit in? CRPS is fucking weird. My life with it is weird. Where is the line between living with it and suffering from it?
Welcome to my brain. Thanks for riding along.