Terminally Talented

Still Here

Still Here….

Last week my best friend came and saw me. We hadn’t seen each other in so long, we hadn’t spoken or messaged either. I in my dark place and she in hers. She has recently been diagnosed with Fibro as well. I was so far in my dark place I, for the first time ever, found myself unable to reach out to anyone for help. Lines of communication from any friends or family to me had been quiet for so long I had begun to believe the asshole that my brain can be, that no one would listen, or care. I shut off. I shut everyone out. I removed my entire Facebook friends list. Facebook for a chronic illness sufferer is about the only way we have to “see” people when we are really sick. So that was me resigning myself to the belief that this was it. Fibro really had stolen everything from me.

My best friend came and saw me. Two days later someone else noticed and messaged me, and upon hearing why I’d removed him told me to get my arse to the doctor. That’s a real person, that’s a real friend. My American girlfriends, checked in by tagging me in the group we are in. They all rallied with comments of encouragement and support. Another girlfriend eventually read my last blog and did everything she could to get in touch with me, her messages saying she would find me wherever I was if I didn’t answer her messages.

I cried. I cried everytime. Every single time. I am still fighting. Up and down. Every day. This flare is refusing to let go. The stress we are facing is not going away. Every day something new, big or small, seems to slap us. And when that happens it makes the flare hold on, helps the pain stick around. I’m waiting on test results. I had to wait on test results to then wait on getting more tests. Button pushers keep making mistakes causing us financial stress.

But I’m here. And I’m not only here because of the support. The ever enduring support of my partner and the support I’ve had coming in from those beautiful people who have noticed I needed it and reached out to me somehow realising I couldn’t do so myself.

I’m here for these this beautiful little person. This little person and her brother. Today I was doing a shoot inspired by my best friend and a beautiful thing she did when she visited me and this shot was taken during set up. I came across it when I was editing. And  it hit me like a tonne of bricks, a brick wall, a kick in the guts, a wall of water…. All air escaped my lungs and I cried. Now I’ve already come to this conclusion and I already knew that I need to be here for my beautiful babies anyway. But this image. This is my little girl. This is her personality in one image minus the fact that if she could have her hair blue and pink she would. Her nails are painted fluro green. She’s wearing a pretty girly dress and rocking boys shoes at the same time, and I’d only just wiped chocolate of her face from her lunch. That empty chair though. That’s my chair. It’s empty. Her face. I don’t even know why it looks kinda sad when I took the shot.

I cannot leave my kids. My body is warring against me being on this earth enough as it is. My mind adds to the battle. I am here. I am fighting. I am fighting so hard. I am not going anywhere. I’m searching every day for some small thing to help get through. Old techniques I used to use well that I have forgotten. Finding positives. Passing on knowledge trapped in my brain to help keep me busy. Anything at all I can do. My next blog will be going up right after this one. And it will be a positive helpful one. I always hope that my art although dark and therapeutic for me helps other to know they are not alone. But I’ve decided that I need to break it up with some more of my beautiful images again of help and hope. To long in the dark. I need to search for the light.

 

Kiarn

Here. And Staying.

 

Toowoomba Fine Art Photographer

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1 Comment

  1. The bestie May 26, 2016

    I love you. All of you. I love you for not forcing me to the reality that we live, but for being there when the diagnosis came with love and acceptance.

    My heart has a piece of you in it, always

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