No, what my issue really is is that, in some ways, I AM fine. My stitches (both internal and external) have healed excellently. I have lost 60+ pounds (~10 prior to surgery and ~50 post-surgery). I look and feel better than I have in a long time. The “feel better” part is that I can bend my body in ways I couldn’t at my heaviest weight. It also feels better to have shed that 60 pounds in a way that I can only explain by saying that you should imagine what it would feel like to carry a 60 pound backpack on your back for seven years and then finally get to take it off. Yeah, it feels fucking great.
So yes, I feel great. HOWEVER, I feel “great” in fits and starts. When I feel great, I feel GREAT and I’m capable of darting around, cleaning things, having LOLercopter conversations with people, chatting, going out and seeing friends and family, etc. BUT, there’s a price to pay for it and that price is settled by exhaustion. The exhaustion is not like I’m unconscious but more like I am tired, a little (aka VERY) foggy, and lethargic. I have no energy or motivation to get up and move, to shower and get dressed (although I always force myself to shower every day), or to talk to anyone. Both the physical and the mental/emotional take a toll on me. I’m an “ambivert” which means I have both introvert and extrovert qualities. I think that most people in my life would categorize me as “definitely an extrovert” but that’s because they know me and I feel comfortable being extroverted with them. In situations where I am not comfortable, I am not so confident or outgoing which are introverted qualities. Another introverted quality about me is that I need time to recharge after being around people. I get easily worn out in crowds, do not like public speaking (because it makes me nervous and also takes it out of me), and I also get an emotional hangover after being with people for too long. That said, I love to go to parties. I’m nervous before going and the introvert side of me always panics before hand and tries to get me not to go but once I get there, just try to get me to leave. It ain’t happening. But then, the day afterwards, I need to lay the fuck down for an entire day and be silent.
And so, I’ve been “stuck” in the house for months; mainly just resting and doing some light tidying up but that’s the extent of it. This week, I went into work twice and worked from home twice and then took one sick day. It was a nice way to re-acclimate. On Monday, I worked from home because I had no meetings and only really had to catch up on some inbox stuff. Tuesday, I went into the office and it was a lot of fun seeing people. Then I overspent my spoons and was sosososo drained on Wednesday so I worked from home. That was enough so that I felt great to go into the office on Thursday which was so much fun. Again, I chatted and LOL’d all day and worked with people and had a generally great time. But then Friday? EXHAUSTED. So exhausted that I just laid down and went to sleep.
I don’t know if I’ve said this on this blog or not but I told my Grandma on Christmas (on our way home from the party) that I feel guilty because I know I look and seem fine but I’m not. I told her that because I’m not visibly ill or, like, riddled with bulletholes (something you can see is CLEARLY WRONG), I feel like it’s “wrong” for me to say that things aren’t right. She knew how I felt because she’s felt like this before in her life.
This is stinker head sleeping on her Mommy.
In November, I thought that perhaps the two year anniversary of my brother’s death was adding to my physical/mental/emotional exhaustion and that’s probably true. With distance, I think it’s mainly that I was taking in so few calories AND this is a major surgery which just means it takes time to heal.