Lying flat, still as a church mouse, I feel the first rays of the day cast a glow across my bed. Uneasiness washes through my mind paralyzing me from wanting to move my head from its current position. This Groundhog Day cycle’s wearing thin on my mental, emotional and physical well-being. I begin to map out and prepare my exit strategy, one that will allow me to vacate my bed without incident. Starting with wiggling my toes, elongating my legs and ever so slightly turning my head from its steady position. It’s like having a ship within; once unmoored, it is free to float, and depending on the waves, it can be a rocky ride.
Descending the stairs has become a feat of bravery these past 4 weeks as my head is ravaged by vertigo, with a dose of migraines for good measure. Lucky for me, the allergies have begun to wane, as the sneezing was enough knock me off my rocker. It’s amazing when one is ill everyday tasks feel monumental. A simple walk with the dogs literally could be the one thing that undoes you. Don’t get me started on grocery shopping with row upon tight row of high shelving that makes me feel like I haven’t gotten my sea legs. Nausea bubbling up inside, ready to spill out any moment.
I won’t lie: it’s been fucking horrible. I would liken it to being a caged animal, and there is no irony that I’ve been watching Wentworth and Rectify on Netflix, shows based on jail. It’s like I can relate to the stories in some way, the isolation, silence, and time to stay in your head.
The funny part of this whole saga is I can’t do a freaking thing about it… oh sure I’ve cut out gluten, sugar and knocked out dairy except, well, feta, because who wants a Greek salad without feta? I’ve loaded up on magnesium daily, as that is supposed to help vertigo. I’ve done breathing exercises to calm the mind and settle the waves to no avail. Each day I wake and try to wrap my head around my world that feels like it’s vibrating and by the afternoon, I’m exhausted, so I nap and get up and do it all again.
Why am I sharing this sordid personal tale of my viral vertigo hell? Simply for anyone out there, who’s in a similar situation: stuck, feeling sick, exhausted and not like themselves. I am not sure what’s worse – the guilt from not being able to do the things that should be easy, like mowing the lawn, dishes, cleaning, laundry or walking the dogs, or just the torment I feel sitting at home alone, watching the hours go by like that’s my new purpose.
So, for anyone out there who is going through their own personal hell right now, let’s just make it our mission to do the best we can, when we can. Sometimes that is the most healing thing you can do as you wait, trying to find a light at the end of a tunnel of hell.