How do you look forward, when your face is stuck crying into the floor?

On February 5th 2010, I was diagnosed with Endometriosis. And even though that could mean surgeries and infertility and clinically induced menopause..that was the best day of my life.

Endometriosis makes you very nauseous and lower abdominal pain can be excruciating, and my symptoms all fit. After 3 years of feeling like absolute shit for no found reason, I had an answer. I cried happy tears for that usually-devastating diagnosis.

Two months later, after what was already the worst week of my entire life, the GYNO changed his mind. He no longer assumed I had Endometriosis, and said there was nothing he could do for me.

I had just spent the last two months crying, and trying to convince myself that it would all be over soon, every time I felt sick. I was ready for drugs and exploratory surgeries and a hysterectomy! I was excited for all that. I didn't have much hope, but it was all riding on the fact that Endometriosis is a real thing and can be fixed for real.

So then I was back to no answers. And after getting that news from the GYNO, and after having spent the last week puking and shitting my pants and hallucinating..I ended up in emerge. And it was there, that my hopes got hung on something new.

A lovely specialist came in and told me that I could begin treatment as an out-patient at Homewood immediately. Homewood is a nut house at the end of the day..but I was so relieved that someone new was going to fix me. In my first few days I was diagnosed with depression and Acute panic Disorder. Hooray! A new answer, a new name for a real thing. (Getting to put a name to the hideous face of whatever has been plaguing you for years, feels like a very large feat)

I was hopeful all over again. New meds, treatment classes..and then after 2 months there, I began to deal with my doctor who put me on a new dose of the drugs, and I bought literature and workbooks to help myself, and I really let myself believe that the physical pain and illness I'd been feeling all that time, was actually due to a psychological issue. And now that we 'knew' that, I could be hopeful again, about one day (SOON) having these ailments behind me.

That was 9 months ago. And here I am, 2am and on my bathroom floor feeling like I'm going to be sick, feeling like I'm going to faint, with this fantastic pain in my chest and back.

I spent some time, recently, back in emerge and we figured that perhaps we were wrong..the panic is not making me sick, but feeling sick is making me panic. I see my GI specialist in two weeks, and I am going to present my case as maturely and convincingly..and desperately as possible. But then what?

The problem is that I currently have my hopes set high, for December 16th. As a way to cope with current illness and panic, I tell myself that the doctor and I will talk, he will understand and BELIEVE me, and he will help me start some kind of new treatment immediately.

But what if that's not the case? What if him and his treatment just disappoints me, and devastates me all over again, like the GYNO's treatment and the psychiatrist’s treatments? I mean, that would be strike three, wouldn't it? So then what. THAT does not attract hope.

So do I try to be smart this time, and go into this phase of things with low expectations, so that I'm not crushed when he could possibly admit that he too can't do anything for me? Or do I hope? Do I hope that things will work this time?

Honestly, if it wasn't also the day my Goddaughter was born, id be terrified that the 16th, this appointment, was quite capable of breaking me. But if I do get bad news, I can just run home to Jenn and kiss my little B until the pain stops.

Ps. This waiting game is total bs.

I just don't want to have to feel like this every day for the rest of my life. Sure, I'm learning to get used to it, but what kind of a fucking life is that, to have to learn to function and contribute to society and start a family and MAKE A LIFE FOR YOURSELF.. when you feel sick all the time?

I'm cold enough, and empty enough to go back to my bedroom, and wait until I'm too tired to panic anymore, and just sleep. Tomorrow could be far better, you never know.

My dearest Prince,

You are a vision.
You are sprawled
you are creased
you've untucked
but coming from where I've been
you are comfort
you are warm
you've brought me back here.
And you have no idea,
off in your own dream worlds
sleeping through my chills
as I slip in under with you,
what a vision you are.
Or how much I love you.

Bubbles, Bieber, and Breathe

Endurance

It may be wishful thinking..it may be too much House on MegaVideo, but I got a glimpse of hope last night.

I was in a perfectly good mood yesterday. I was in a perfectly good mood all weekend, actually, despite the Ativan needed at work. It was 9ish, and I text my boyfriend a "good night :)", and I never randomly type smiley faces. Thats how good a mood I was in! Then my stomach spoke up out of nowhere, and the panic followed even faster.

It was weird though! I don't know if you would call it out-of-body, or just insightful, but I could almost pause the attack for a second, to analyze everything. I could see all the ques leading from the IBS to the panic, I could separate and name all my symptoms, and even map out where my mind was trying to escaping to.

Instead of seeing myself on the bathroom floor, that night, with that REMARKABLE flu, my thoughts went to Kristy, the younger sister of a girl friend, who I drove home after work on Thursday night. She'd told me about the daycare she worked at being diagnosed with a Norwalk outbreak a week ago.

I could SEE my brain trying to convince my body that it NEEDED to panic 'because Kristy was really sick and I was in a car with her..I ate a gross leftover samwich for dinner..I didnt take any Imodium yet today..'

Is that a sign of progress? My brain has to work to find better reasons to panic because the original reasons are getting old and no longer work at the snap of a finger. Maybe I'm getting ahead of myself..I can be hopeful, but hope doesn't really guarantee the next attack will be as easy to decipher and defuse. Plus, I still took an Ativan the moment it hit me, so me and my diagnostic tendencies don't get all the credit.

Or am I just completely nuts, (I think I've asked that question before..) thinking I can now see an anxious-self and a rational one, bickering every time I overheat?

Answer: Split personalities= definitely nuts.

(And if I want any chance at marrying my boyfriend, I'll never use that psychiatric term again ;) ..)

But being able to step outside myself in that chaotic moment, and realize that the pounding heart rate, flushed face, and jello'y limbs aren't necessary, that's a skill! A skill I never thought I'd need to acquire, but one that is proving far more useful then long-division or understanding the periodic table.

Incase You Ever Wondered What A Lack of Hope Looks Like

Dear Dad, Love Your Daughter on the Bathroom Floor

Hi dad

Are you/the car home tomorrow?

I would like to take it, or get a ride (because I don't know how long I'll be) to the hospital.

I have just decided that I don't want to do this any more. I can't be FINE all day and then rushing for my drugs and rushing for the toilet and then shaking on the floor all of a sudden. And I can not put up with mom telling me how dissapointed she is in me for not going to work w her again. Even though it's true..I am unreliable! I want to start a business in 5 months! I can't be having sobbing fits like a baby every other night.

I know that it's completely lame to compare real life to television, but I started watching House, a doctor show. House is a diagnosis specialist, but even he can't always figure out what exactly is wrong w a patient. When that happens, he and his team make an educated guess and treat the patient accordingly. If the patient doesn't get better they try something else.

I have been in treatment for anxiety for nine months now, and I'm not getting better.

I'm not.

It probably looks like I am..but really I'm just getting better at hiding it. I'm getting better at getting used to it, and enduring it without bothering anyone else in the process.

But that's not fair. I can't keep suffering and just trying to put up with it..and be miserable and in pain every other day if I want to keep a healthy relationship or be successful in the work world.

I am a 24 year old who can't pay rent because she can't work. And I know working sometimes sucks and no one really wants to do it, but I would give anything to feel ok enough to go into work at frigging Mcdonalds every day.

So I want to go and talk to someone. I accepted anxiety as my only diagnosis months ago, because I was utterly exhausted, and so fed up of not having ANY answers. But I can't except it any more. Yes, I panic, but 95% of my attacks are brought on by feeling sick. And I feel sick all the time. And that's not normal.

I just want to go in, and tell them that I need to find someone who will give enough of a shit to help me actually figure out what's wrong. Or else lock me up and commit me, because I just don't think I will survive like this. I just want to move on.

So if you have time, or you don't need the car, that'd be a big help. Mind you after THIS..I probably won't be up very early.

And I will ask Nolan if I have to. I just don't want to. He's very frustrated because he loves me a lot, and wants to be able to make a home with me and start our lives together..but I can't afford a home, and he doesn't deserve a lifetime with someone who still has issues like mine.

(Unfortunately you MADE me, lol so you don't have a choice, sorry.)

Let me know though, thank you xoxo

Progress (hearts)

Single steps at a time

slow and sturdy

enjoy the view

you love me

and I love you.

We have a sidewalk

hot kisses

and honesty

with a bright picture

stretching wide

right out front.

Hold my hand

and stroll with me.

My strides are small

but I’m walking

and I’m walking with you.

And I’ll walk forever,

gladly.