A World of Difference. (2026 Edit)

Hello and welcome back to another stormy night in the Shire. As you can tell by the title we are taking another file from the Archives as I was looking for a specific one for later on in the month and stumbled across a post that wasn’t on my radar for this series. However, I would like to cover it. The post from July of 2022. Posted on the seventeenth of that month. A messy entry of thoughts, though I think we can get something more from it present day. 

July 27, 2022

The craziest part of chronic illness to me?

The post no one asked for, but it’s been burning in my mind for months. Is finally going to see the page. Buckle up Loves this is gonna be an interesting ride.

To set the scene. It’s January 2020. I’m denying every crap thing in my life at the moment and trying to distract myself. Which lands me talking to this guy. Which then leads to a date, my first date. EVER. Trust me I wish it wasn’t, but this is important factual information. January 17th, 2020, I’m on my first date ever.

The details of the date aren’t important to this particular story just the fact I was on one and for me at the time even though it wasn’t a pleasant experience it was a big deal. Milestone per say.

August of that year I stared working. A high pressure, demanding job. I also began experiencing some excruciating rib pain that made it difficult to breathe, on top of more temperature control problems (to top the ones I already had) as well as what I now know were fever dreams/nightmares. We went to the doctors’ multiple times from August to October and they would always say the same thing about this agony I was living in then it got to the point where in November I was taking every over-the-counter painkiller I could, using patches, gels. All of it. None of it was doing anything. I couldn’t breathe for the pain that was stabbing me in my back and ribs. There are no words to describe what I felt and even now that time of my life is still a blur, but it turns out that I had an infection and from November 21st, 2020, to December 11th, 2020, I was in the hospital. The thing that always gets me is weirdly isn’t the almost dying or being ignored and feeling invalid, but the fact that just 309 days after my first date. Yes it might not seem that big of a deal but looking back it’s very hard to put into words the emotions I feel/felt. 309 days after my first step to being “normal” (at the time I felt so important) and it was the last thing on my mind- scratch that it wasn’t even on my mind.

Honestly I’m not sure why all of this is so important to write other than to get it out of my head maybe, and I don’t even know if it made any sense at all but it doesn’t matter what happened three months ago, when you’re fighting for right now. And honestly as scared as I was? I was happier than ever. I wasn’t thinking about tomorrow or yesterday none of it mattered. All that mattered was me. In that moment. Was I single? Yeah, am I still single? Yeah. But I hated that “relationship” and it wouldn’t have stood through that hospital stay, because I learned a lot about me. And who I was becoming, the trials it was taking to get there and who I was at that moment to become who I am today writing this post.

With Love,

Hails

Back to the present day.

The details of the date were actually important. I’d always wanted that “foot popping” fairytale of a first kiss. One shared with someone I cared about deeply, and who cared about me deeply Under a trillion stars in the perfect moment. It’s not a secret that I’ve always been a romantic. A dreamer. Book girly. The book tok girl before that was a thing. So much so that it tends to threaten potential partners or partners, what I envision for myself I mean. Though most of the time it felt like I was dating used car sales men. If you know you know. I was naive and or ignorant however you want to view it. I still even though I’m trying to give my younger self grace I still view myself as a dumbass. But again, I’m trying to better my thought process and how I view myself because I would never consider anyone else who was in a situation similar to mine dumb. I think we can all relate.

Long story short my first kiss was stolen from me. I didn’t consent to it. But I also had a lot of complex feelings because I didn’t explicitly tell the guy no. I did, however, push the guy away. And a few other things happened, but again, I didn’t know the things I know now, so I just took the “lessons” in stride, because that’s what I knew. Everything bad happened for a reason and you have to take a lesson from it – that’s what I thought. But it’s not how it’s meant to be. Later on we found out that the Port had likely been infected the whole time I’d had it which would have meant it was infected on that date too. A funny thought now. 

But anyway, I learned quickly that my mind had an “off” switch. In my mind it’s similar to that of the humanity switch that the Vampires of The Vampire Diaries and The Originals have/had. Look, I started with The Originals so I’ll always be partial to Klaus and Rebekah. But if it comes to Damon or Stephan. Damon all the way. I know I know. I’m damaged, you should have known by me being team Klaus. That’s not the point though. 

Recently I was asked about how my 2020 was, and imagine my surprise when I couldn’t place it. It’s yet another year of my life lost to the void. The only time I could really place was August when I started working and November when I was admitted. I’d barely remembered all the rest. Granted I know we had the pandemic and all that but and don’t hate me but as a chronically ill girly… my life didn’t change all that much? I’ve always had to self isolate, always had these precautions and yes the world was in lockdown but my life was kind of always like that. Which is a common take from others in the chronic illness community. But the rest of my memories… I read them and it feels like I’m a spectator in my own life. Kind of ironic because that was the year I switched back to WordPress and this domain. Buying it, that August. 

So much had happened in those years 2016-2020. But specifically 2018 to 2020 was when it got worse. I thought 2019 was my rock bottom. Life couldn’t kick me anymore but it dug me in further then poured water in. My mind, it learned to lock me out. I can’t be mad. Better yet my mind built an escape. And locked me away from the one I was stuck in. I’m grateful I can’t tie those 309 days back together. 

I won’t deny how I felt in this post. Hell, I can’t really place that feeling anymore. I don’t think I could back then, I guess that’s why I turned to the page. I needed to pour it all out to try to make sense of the gaps, of the thoughts that weren’t thoughts but they were screaming. Everything was screaming and nothing was quiet. I was surviving. The post was as messy as I was. As life is. Especially as a teenager is, as a life with chronic illness is. I’m so glad that I shared it. Even if I hadn’t figured out how to talk about the things I was processing, the things that were happening and still are. 

It’s been a few years and I still don’t fully know how to process medical trauma. Or trauma. But as every human is, I’m a work in progress. But I will say living in the moment is one of the hardest things I had to learn and it wasn’t as simple as me being sick and in the hospital. It took ages and even still now I have to actively practice living in the moment. Though, it truly is all that matters. What I’m striving to be – who I’m striving to be, and knowing that the girl in that hospital bed? She would be so proud of how far we’ve come, the little girl with stars in her eyes and the biggest dreams who just wanted a safe place to feel accepted? She’s squealing in glee at the woman I’ve become. And that? That’s worth everything. That’s the difference.

I hope you enjoyed today’s post and I hope to see you in the next one.

xoxo Hails