Staying alive, and being glad to be alive – some thoughts from the last 24 hours.

Yesterday I had an appointment at a big hospital 2 hours away that I’ve been having treatment under for both the Asthma and several different auto immune issues my body is having.

It didn’t go as well as I wanted to. And now I’m facing the next 4/6 weeks possibly longer of side effects to new medications, which have all been changed. The last time this happened, just a few months ago, I was pretty sick, my hair started to fall out and generally it was grim.

So, that was yesterday morning, and I was pretty hacked off. Having had an asthma attack last week anyway, and the appt for the immune stuff not going brill, as I sat on the train on the way home, I tried to refocus my mind which was pretty heavy and sad. And focus on positive stuff.

So I started to write. A blog titled staying alive. And the fact that in a few weeks time, on the 11 of April it will be 6 years since I took an overdose that should have ended me. But it didn’t, miraculously.

6 years ago, I was battling to stay alive, but for very different reasons. I was not physically sick, but my mental health was very poorly. The traumatic events that occurred that led me to have a total breakdown before I’d even hit the age of 25 totally overwhelmed me. And I felt that there was only one option. The only, the best, the most appealing one was to be dead.

Anyway, that was the blog I was writing on the train yesterday.

And then someone sprayed an aerosol in my carriage. That had non-asthmatics coughing. And within minutes had me being unable to breathe. Thankfully the train conductor was top notch and an ambulance was waiting for me at the next station.

I then proceeded to be hospitalised, yet again.

Because that is what my life has become right now. Another battle, to stay alive, but this time because I am so physically unwell with several different, complex and severe things going on.

As I sat in the resuss room last night, with IV’s going through through my body and masks and wires surrounding me, they took my blood gas. If you’ve ever had your blood gas taken, you’ll know it’s pretty damn painful. And sometimes it’s more painful than others. Last night it bought tears to my eyes. Partly because it fricking hurt, and partly because I’d had enough. Over the last two years I’ve been in hospital more times than I care to remember. Had more drugs than I’ve ever had in my life. More needles in to my arms, and more bruises than I’d like.

While they were doing the BG my mum, well, my darling Mum held my hand and told me to ‘keep going – because you’re a strong fighter’. That made me cry even more.

I didn’t feel strong last night and I have not felt particularly strong today.

Tonight, thankfully at home, I laid in the bath, listening to some worship music and I reflected on the last 6 years, since that overdose. Since the day when I was so desperate to die, I remembered all the things that have been overcome. All the battles fought.  And the fact that even though, right now, yet again I feel I’m going through the mill and I have no strength left, I have a God who does. And that all of the things have been before and I have started to move on from could never have been started/done without Him.

And I am deeply thankful for that. And I am glad to be alive.

I’m glad to be alive. I AM glad to be alive.

Its not a overly enthused, lets smile and laugh all the time glad, just a deep gladness that’s hard to put into words.

The last 6 months since I recommitted my life back to God have been immense, in some pretty dark and painful ways, but also in some pretty beautiful life moving ways too. I’ve found a church, and a God that is changing my life. A place to be where I’m starting to feel safe and a God that I’m learning to trust in more and more. Healing is happening, chains are painfully being broken, I’ve been and am being unravelled so freedom can break through. And for the first time in my life, I’m living with a deep small hope that that can and will happen.

So, things are still tough, really really tough, but I’m glad to be alive.

Last year, on the 5th anniversary of the overdose it was a real privilege to have many friends/fellow tweeters join me with tweets using the hashtag #gladtobealive  – I’m hoping we are able to do that nearer the time again.

In the mean time, I’m trying to stay focussed. I’m trying to stay positive.

I’m trying to keep my eyes on God. Which is hard too.

I’m hoping trying is enough.

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