It's good to talk...

It's good to talk to people. I enjoy it. It keeps me in touch with reality, and lets me know that I'm still alive. However, this is the "good" me talking, not the recluse that I've found I become sometimes. Because I spend a lot of time on my own now, I've found myself to be more introspective, not liking large numbers of people around me. I don't really care what people think of me most of the time, what I wear is none of their concern, and how I dress is how I want to, not dictated by fashion. The same goes for my hair, although that's more dictated by the fact that I'm lazy. I can't be bothered going to get it styled and cut every how many weeks, so I let it grow, brush it and plait it, and that's it for the most part.

These days though it's not my clothes or my hair that makes me self-conscious. It's not the weight I gained from having the dodgy thyroid, or being inactive for the last year either. It's my stick. That's what makes me very self-conscious. I'm young, I used to be fit, I used to go to the gym, cycle, swim. I was never any good at running except when I was in school doing cross country, but I never really saw the point in going out for a run anyway, especially when I was cycling every day.

Now I have a stick and no balance. I can't cycle. I can't go to the gym, mostly because it's too far for me now and I have no one to go with to keep an eye on me in case my balance suddenly decides to depart completely as it has an annoying habit of doing every so often. I'm now one of those people that get commented on in low voices in shopping centres and supermarkets. I wouldn't care if it was about my clothes or my hair, but it's about my stick. A short piece of wood and metal that I have to take with me everywhere outdoors, and indoors if it's larger than the average room size. I can potter in my garden, but I can't do anything really major in it. I try, and then spend the next day paying for the stuff I do.

I recently went to visit my sister with my mum and dad and a family friend. She's just managed to get herself a very nice job working on one of the cruise liners, so we went and did the tour of the ship. I admit, I'm jealous. She has a stunning job, but she's earned it. Anyway, we spent the day wandering about and I was fine, just a little slower than everyone, but we were in no rush really. It was a beautiful day and we sat and sunned ourselves with a drink in the late afternoon, then pootled off home before getting thrown off for trying to stow away on board. I paid for that with a day and a half on the sofa, not really able to go very far or concentrate on things. My attention span seems to nick off when I'm having days like that, and my memory goes along for the ride. Himself can ask me something, and five minutes later, I've forgotten what he asked. It's very frustrating to say the least.

Well, today I am going to start trying to fight my limitations. One of my neighbours is coming to get me soon to get me out the house and round to his to use his excersise stuff. He does a couple of hours every day, so I figure that might be the motivation I need, plus I don't have to go far, and he will come crowbar me out the house to do it too. A bonus on all fronts. My aim is to fit into my long shorts before we go away in July. I don't wear short shorts... As yet I don't have the legs for it. Even when I do, I won't wear them. I'm a redhead, and I know all about sunburn.

So, I'll be getting some excersise, I'll have someone to talk to, and I won't be sat in the house going stir-crazy like I usually do. I'm feeling a little positive today, although I already had one of my looks into the abyss. I'm hoping that the motivation to get out a little more, even though it is just two doors up, will help.

The future is a very scary place for me though, with not knowing what's going on and whether I have something treatable or whether it's something I'm stuck with. I can't even find a routine that I can stick with, because I make the decision to do something the next day, and when the next day comes, I don't have the energy to do anything, or the balance to even look after myself properly. I'll find out on the 4th of July when I see my next specialist. Independence day for those of you across the pond. I wonder if it's an omen, or if it's just fate having a good laugh at my expense.

Well, today I hope will be the start of my own Independence, although that's pushing it a little, since I'm dependant on my neighbour letting me go round and use his excersise stuff. It's something I'm doing for myself though, something I want to do, and maybe something positive will come of it. My clothes might fit for a start, which would be a bonus. I have so far resisted buying new things, because that's admitting that I'm going to stay the size I am. I want to put some effort in and try fitting into the clothes I already own. I have some nice stuff in my cupboards and drawers, so it would be nice to be able just to go and pick out something to wear instead of wondering "Does it fit?" or worse "Does my bum look big in this?" Of course it does!

So it's good to talk to people, but I'm not about to start asking if I look fat. I have a mirror for that one. I went and talked to my neighbour, and now I'm doing something positive about the extra inches. I talked to another friend this morning, and now I have another avenue of enquiry to ask my specialist about. I talked to my parents and our friend about what I should do with my life, and the friend has given me the push that has seen me start designing business cards to do my own wee business. I talked to another good friend after yesterday's blog, and he told me to keep going, a little motivation to keep writing. I sent an e-mail to another friend yesterday and it's her blog that has inspired me to have my own. We all talk, but sometimes not often enough. I reccommend it as a good way to get your head straight and get some motivation in your life. It also keeps me sane and while it doesn't stop me looking into the abyss, it provides a little safety line that keeps me from falling in.