You know those songs you listen to after something significant in your life happens and it suddenly becomes "YOUR SONG!" and you have to turn it up and jam out and dance at the stoplight even if everyone is staring? I have a lot of those. Most of them don't make sense to anyone else. I am married to the most amazing man alive, I have lovely wonderful family and friends, and I love everything about my life. Why then, one might ask, do you have to belt out "A Little Bit Stronger" by Sara Evans or "Part Of Me" by Katy Perry? Those are total heart break songs! Yes, they are. No, they don't take me back to thoughts of past boyfriends. Like I said, I love where I am. Instead, they remind me of someone else--the old me.
Say Wha? Let me clarify here! This is not a poor pitiful me post, simply a look back over the past year. The person I was, to who I am now. Just trust me and read on! I will connect everything. I promise. I hope.
A year ago today, I was crashing in my aunt and uncle's basement, all belongings were packed in my car from my long drive from Oregon, and I was desperately trying to find somewhere to work in Utah. I had just had an exploratory surgery done and thought that we had solved all my health problems! Hooray! A few months previous, I was a missionary for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. I loved every moment of it. Normally, a young woman's mission in the Church will last a total of 18 months. Mine only lasted 2. They were an absolutely amazing 2 months, however, my mind/heart and my body wanted different things. I couldn't keep up with the rigorous schedule and was sent home with the hopeful thought that in 3 months I would return to finish. Obviously, that didn't happen.
I'll keep it mostly short and summarize that they hadn't figured out what was wrong. I found a job, met my now husband, and visited doctors repeatedly. Every time I heard the same thing, "You are the picture of health! Congrats!" Only I didn't feel that way. Some mornings I couldn't move out of bed because the pain I would feel would literally take my breath away. I went from a year before building barb wire fences and being extremely active to not being able to carry a tray of food to a table at work. I lost a bunch of weight and still no answers. I continually heard, to my dismay, "Wow, you look amazing Chelsea!" Um, thanks, I feel like a bag of poo.
After we got officially engaged, I moved back to Oregon. I decided I needed to see my family doctor. He knew my health history considering he'd been my doctor since I was 9! Throughout all the previous encounters with doctors, I had been researching. WebMD was like my best friend! I was always reading about obscure diseases and was convinced I had all of them. The ones that scared me the most where the ones that no one understands. They have no medication or set diet or exercise to make you better. You can't control anything. You just hope that throughout the years you find what works for you. And wouldn't you know, that was what we determined I had.
I had read the word "fibromyalgia" in lots of forums that talked about "mystery illnesses" and quite frankly it was scary. I had the mindset that as soon as I had a diagnosis, no matter what it was, that I would get back to normal life. I don't even remember what normal life was.
Fibromyalgia. My inner demon. I had the diagnosis, and nothing changed but everything had. I couldn't decide if having a mystery was better than having the name because it seemed the name meant NOTHING. A few days after my official "diagnosis" I had to take a trip to the ER. Already in tears and pain, I felt as though I was nothing to the lady who treated me. She accused me of simply coming in for pain killers as though I was just a drug addict looking for a fix. On top of all the pain I was feeling, being upset at myself for upsetting my mom because there was nothing she could do, I felt anger boiling in my blood. A feeling I had never had and unfortunately wouldn't be the last with other doctors or even people I just knew and ran into who heard what was wrong. Suddenly I went from being a smart, capable, successful person to a crazy, talks-to-herself drug addict who was lazy.
This is where those songs come in. I know they are talking about relationships. Rather than seeing them as a relationship with someone else, I think of them as my relationship with my fibro. Everyday I have to take a moment to lie in bed and decide what kind of day it will be according to my pain level. Will I be able to do the laundry? Go to work? Shower? Some days are a lot worse, some are better. Today is a good day. Yesterday wasn't. And everyday I have to remind myself that I am getting a little bit stronger. There are constantly things around me reminding me of all that I used to be able to do that I can only imagine doing now. A constant reminder that I am not, nor will I ever be, the same person I was. But when I hear those songs, they give me hope. I have fibromyalgia but that doesn't mean I am fibromyalgia. The part of me it will never be able to take is my will to live a happy life. Despite that ever present reminder that I'm not the same, I know that I still can have an attitude of love and gratitude.
I am grateful for my invisible illness. I want to give a voice to my invisible illness and to all those who also are suffering from one. Your life has changed forever. People won't understand. "Until you get it, you won't get it." However, that is no reason to feel self-doubt and self-loathing. Every experience that you have right now gives you an opportunity to become stronger and overcome. Fibromyalgia may feel as though it has taken over all of you but it can't break your soul.
I am rising to the challenge but asking for help and mostly understanding. I'm inviting each of you into a private part of my life in hopes that you might take this opportunity to learn and to show love. To everyone. Always.
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