Where's the way out?.....are we there yet ?

Yesterday, for the first time in months, I cried, I sobbed in the privacy of my home, with no witness, and no hope for comfort. I was watching  You Tube video of someone having eye surgery to correct the effects of graves's disease, the patient was more severely affected than I am, his vision had been impaired, and both eyes needed treatment. I told myself I would have to go through that very same procedure myself, or accept a lifetime of looking and feeling like a freak. Tears ran down my face, and I wanted John to be here, wanted to bury my head against his chest and feel his hands stroking my hair, be soothed by the sound of his voice, but I have not been in touch with John for a year, since the announcement of his marriage. So I have to deal with my own pain and turmoil all by myself, as nobody else cares. I have to accept that all the shit I 'm going throught was my own fault. I should have taken the thyroid medication on a regular basis, this would have prevented my eye from swelling up, but, back then, in the midst of a severe depressive episode, I could barely remember the day it was, I could barely look after myself , eat, wash, dress, so how in these conditions , could I have kept up to date with doctor's appointments? Once it was clear that my right eye would never be the same again, even though the thyroid was then back to normal, I had an appointement with an eye specialist, who advised me to give up smoking( which I did) and referred me to a surgeon for a follow up appointement, but, the  next appointment paperwork was lost, and then again, it is my own fault, for being so disfunctional that I can barely stay on track with administrative matters. A friendly supervisor at work recently offered to put me in touch with the hospital where he was treated for troublesome shoulder pain, he assures me that, they have top surgeons, and they will take me in quickly, I 'm willing to follow that path,but then.....then.....the hoarding comes into the picture. With the ammount of junk I accumulated indoors, it is a challenge to keep the place hygienic, so I will come home after the operation, with a scar, and at risk of infection, due to the dust and germs that are lurking in every nook and crannies.

Can the mess I created around me ever be undone? I 've done this to myself, not willfully, but slowly, I digged the hole I 'm in, though exhaustion, despair, neglect and anxiety, I 've done this to myself, now it's up to me to undo it, and it will be hard work, it will be a long , long road....wish me luck.