When I write this blog, I try to refrain from letting people know about my negative personal emotions. You know the feeling that everybody gets during the week, due to work, children, exhaustion, and, in my case, illness. But there are those days when you get up on the wrong side of the bed, days which a local meteorologist called difficult weather for us “Birds-of-paradise”, people who suffer from meteoropathy and illness. Unstable weather, high atmospheric pressure, and heat… lightheadedness and anxiousness ensue. In this condition I can’t bear myself, let alone the people around me. I’m not okay.

When it comes out by accident, it’s always followed up by questions of curious family members: 

– So, what is it? A cold, the flu? 

 -No, I’m not okay.

– Do you have a fever?


– Well, what is it?

– Aaaaaaa leave me alone!

It’s even worse if you tell this to a nurse or a doctor while you’re on dialysis. Next thing you know, they’re lowering your bed, measuring your blood pressure, decreasing the intensity of the pump, and the fabled opening of the window, Serbia’s answer to every problem..

-No wonder you’re not feeling alright, there’s no air in the room…. 

No, I’m not okay, that’s why it’s difficult. Everything seems to be collapsing onto me. I’m tired of being poked full of holes, being under constant stress (as is everyone on this planet) about work, traffic, how primitive everyone has gotten, and how fast.

I’m not okay, because bureaucracy is killing me, because I’m practically family with my general practice doctor, seeing as I spend time with him more than I do with my actual family, since everything and anything requires a referral from him. I’m not okay because I need to put on a smile whenever I talk to my loved ones, whether or not I feel like smiling.

My life is fair game, I can’t nod off while I’m on dialysis, the nurses need to wake me, to measure my blood pressure every hour (It’s protocol, they keep telling me). I can’t nod off because whenever I try, my neighbor starts yelling YABADABADOO like he’s Fred Flinstone, and occasionally breaks into song, and no one can do anything about it. Oh there’s so much more… 

I’m not okay. I’m fed up with everything. Leave me alone, let me be silent. Let me cry in my bathroom without a reason that makes sense. Just to let it all out. Nothing’s wrong, and everything is wrong. And tomorrow will be better. I’m sure of it. 

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *