When I created this blog I wasn’t too sure if I would talk about my personal life. I’m still unsure as to how much i’ll say now as I type. The blog’s initial aim was and is a place for me to write about things I enjoy. Be it a film, a game, a book or anything in between (I’m definitely steering clear of talking about my beloved Arsenal). Somewhere I could practice my writing and put down my thoughts on things. Well this is probably the best place I can go (since barely anyone will read it 😏) to open up about things that have been a struggle.
A lot of people don’t open up about their struggles. We know as people we can be fragile and holding things in is detrimental to our mental health. People don’t like to be a burden to others. Or they’re too “strong” to seek advice. So this is where i’m going to open up.
I consider myself strong mentally as my best friend is someone I talk things through with a lot. See, we both have a medical condition called Cystic Fibrosis. So we could chat to each other anytime we have a problem or are struggling. I’m always there when he needs me and he’s there when I need him. It works. We’ve been best friends for years. Going through an isolating illness, due to cross infection CF people must keep away from each other, we help each other through everything.
Well on the 25th of April, only a few weeks ago, I lost my best friend. We were both patients on the ward. I would walk up to his room some evenings and sit for a chat (no we didn’t listen to our team about keeping apart). We texted every day for years. I was talking to him only the night before. He was only 29.
Over the years i’ve lost countless friends to this disease. Some in my childhood. Many as adults. There were about 40-50 people I knew and grew up with from the children’s hospital. I can probably count on 1 hand how many are left.
My best friend was on the transplant list. He waited and waited. Calls came and went. But none were acceptable lungs. He fought long and hard. He held on as long as he could. I wouldn’t say this out loud to his family but I think he was just too tired to fight any more. I tried so hard to push him. He tried hard to do things that would help him. But his energy was just gone. His mind was tired. The mountain was just too big.
I’m now at the stage where I need a transplant asap. No matter how hard it gets I will not give in. But i’ll admit it’s extremely tough at the minute. There’s so many other problems CF can bring. Not just lung problems. The fact I can’t just text my mate, which i’ve been close to doing multiple times then realising I can’t, to talk through things is putting so much pressure on me mentally. People offer their ear all the time. It’s not the same. Yes they’ll listen but nobody will truly understand. I don’t have many people I can open up to in my life (in the sense I feel comfortable opening up to them properly) but now i’ve lost the one person who knew exactly how it felt to go through the same shit. Sometimes, even without this disease, people can only open up to someone they totally feel comfortable with. This is how I am. I won’t open up to just anyone. I need to feel comfortable enough to go to that place with them. I do have lots of friends and family, who i’m sure would all offer an ear, but it’s not the same.
This post may not make sense. I was rambling and my mind is all over the place currently. But I think it’s cathartic to write down your troubles. Just like it’s cathartic to talk to someone about your problems. Whatever works for you do it. Don’t let things eat you up.