When I wrote this post originally, it was full of self-pity. I haven’t written a particularly personal blog post in a while. Partly because I’m generally pretty happy, and partly because, frankly, who wants to hear about my problems?
But I’ve got a lot to pity myself about today, hence the post. Today I’m going for life-changing surgery. An operation which will, I hope, let me have sex again for the first time in 4 years. But it’s not without its risks, and it’s a long road to recovery, with no guarantee of success. It’s been a lonely journey to this point, as I’m sure you can imagine, and when I first wrote this down I complained that I’d wasted 4 years of my life. Alone and incapable of intimacy.
But then I had a conversation with a very good friend of mine. She said to me: “You’re the strongest person I know“. This was followed up by telling me what a dick I’d been to her, but that’s another story…
I’ve never thought of myself as strong though. I’m really scared about this operation. Not the terror that comes with standing on the edge of a cliff, but the relentless certainty that my body, and my life, will never been the same again. But really, I suppose this is what people with chronic illnesses like me face on a regular basis. I honestly don’t think you have much choice but to be strong in order to cope with the fact that your life will never be the same as it was. You either make the decision to do what you can with your life and have the strength to cope with the day-to-day shit you have to put up with, or you give up and live it in misery and despair. Or worse. Perhaps for some this isn’t a choice they can actually make, since the mind often plays dirty tricks. But that is, again, another story.
My friend also reminded me that I’ve done an amazing amount in the past 4 years. I’ve made many new friends, nearly finished gaining my doctorate, visited wonderful places, done cool new things, and embraced a new hobby. I’ve done all this on my own, with the strength I have, and actually for most of that I’ve not felt that I needed support, although sometimes it would’ve been really nice to share some of these experiences with someone special.
But today marks the start of a new chapter in my life (what a cliché!). After the operation, assuming it all goes well and I recover nicely over the next couple of months, I’ll be (sort of) back to normal. That is to say: I’ll still be a slightly socially awkward ginger kid, with a weird Scottish/West Country accent and low self esteem. But at least everything will work again. Hopefully it’s like riding a bike; once you’ve learned, you don’t forget how! Not that I’ve ridden a bike much in the past few years either, but that’s another story 😉 Wish me luck.