A hard, hard, beat the steering wheel with my fists, pace around my room, cry in the shower, doom-thinking hard time.
I don't know where I'm going with this post. I do not have a set goal. I did have set goals, originally. And then, especially, when I began to improve, my goal was to share how I was doing so. I began that when I posted about my vegan diet-which, is still helping, yes. However, what was a good, solid few months turned into a downward spiral, and I can't see the way out right now.
I'm kind of tired of statements such as "life isn't fair", and "this too shall pass." Alright, well it kind of sucks right now and I don't care if it will pass. In this very moment, I have things to do, I have a life to live, and I am tired of being plagued with this.
Tired. Tired is not even the word. I'm kind of losing my mind. No, no, I am definitely losing my mind. I don't know what it is about when I hit a difficult flare, but I tend to go into this "doom thinking" as I call it. Suddenly, the dreams and goals I had for myself seem so far away. I gasp for breathe as I cry over the thought of not being a therapist, a mommy, all of the things I've dreamed of.
I belong with people. I'm kind of good with people. It's one of the few things I'm good at. I don't know why this is happening. I don't know why, a month before graduation, something I have been working for for 3 years, I have hit an earth shattering flare. I feel trapped. I don't feel safe. I feel angry.
I had to speak to my supervisor today about the state of my health, as I missed several days of work last week and had to leave early today. She was understanding and kind, however there is one statement that she made that I can't quite shake. She told me that as a counselor, and as a woman, she had this intuition that there was "something else" going on with me, such as "a bad relationship or a chronic, underlying depression." I paused, partly shocked, partly offended, partly half dead anyway. I took it in. Then, it hit me.
"When I first became ill, many doctors did not know what was wrong with me. Two, specifically, told me I would not live through this. Every time I become ill, with any similar symptoms to that difficult time in my life, I remember their words, and I am afraid I will go back there, I am afraid I will die."
Yes, I said this to my boss.
Rather than regret that moment, I am proud of it. Don't let anyone tell you the pain inside you is from some deep, underlying depression. Don't let anyone make your pain out to be less than what it is. This is your body. This is your life. I own my words, I own my feelings, and I own my experience.
Today was quite a revelation. One I still have not completely wrapped my head around. But what I do know is this- I am stronger than I used to be. In the past, I would have taken her statement and let it be. Today, I defended myself. I told my story. I was vulnerable, I was open, I was..human. Completely, painfully, torturously human.
We all have a story. Don't let anyone dictate yours, or question what is behind your feelings. The world needs more people like you to share your story, so people know they are not alone. You are not alone. Wear your war story. Nothing good can come of this if it's never told.