Whose Blog is this, Anyway?

It's been a while. I didn't intend for it to go down this way. I started this blog with the intention to write about some of the wonderful and terrible thoughts in my head. I wanted to write at least one blog every week and I didn't want to just write about chronic illness. There is so much more inside this crazy brain. But here we are, about a year and a half since I started this and I haven't even written one post per month. Not only that, but I have very little to say about any subject other than chronic illness right now.

It doesn't surprise me that my adventure in blogging has gone this way. I mean there are plenty of reasons why I don't knuckle down and write. There are many days that I can't stand to look at the computer screen. The dizziness and nausea won't tolerate it. Some days I have a hard time tolerating staring at a wall. On the worst days, the dizziness is so bad that I can't tolerate the backs of my eyelids.

If the dizziness isn't thwarting my ability to read or look at things and the nausea isn't preventing me from being able to concentrate on anything beyond the urge to hurl, then it's likely that I have a dense gray fog surrounding my brain and am not only having a hard time completing an intelligible sentence, I'm also having trouble finding simple words like "door" inside this college-graduate brain.

"Honey...what's the thing called?"

"What thing?" 

"The thing we walk through like over there by the place where we eat?" 

"Over by the table?" Hubby will ask. "Do you mean the door?" 

Yup. That's exactly what I mean.

I frequently have brilliant ideas for blog posts while I'm laying in bed in the dark waiting for sleep to come. I know people say you shouldn't lay in bed and think. If you can't sleep, it is suggested that you get up and do something else until you are sleepy. The problem for me is that I'm so exhausted I can't be "up" anymore. I need to be prone but I also can't fall asleep. Hours will pass before it happens, so I write in my head. And I have written some great stuff up there but by morning I either can't remember it or it sounds trite or insane.

The good days, few and far between as they are, don't feel like the days I should sit down and write because there is a whole house that has been ignored and neglected for weeks or a month while I've been staring at the wall and wishing I could get out of my body and just feel good. So I clean or do some other chore and then another chore and I'm so glad I feel good that I inevitably wear myself out and land back in the arms of another bad day.

And then there are the "normal" excuses for not writing which have nothing to do with chronic illness but have plenty to do with self-confidence and a lack of a writing routine.

I suppose I could come up with a million reasons not to write.

But I have a million reasons why I should write, as well. And I want to do better. Writing makes me feel good. It helps me sort through the things I'm going through. It helps me understand myself. I hope it helps other people relate to me or understand me better or sparks something inside them.

So here's hoping this year will be different. Here's hoping that this year I take advantage of every opportunity I have to write and that I touch you with the words I put down here for you to read.

Laci