From my absolute breaking points come my biggest victories. The slightly hopeful, eager to blog me that sits here right now is no reflection of the woman I was a mere 3 hours ago. It has been a much more nightmarish week then usual. The cold has somehow sunk into my bones and will not quit aggravating the fibro beast that prowls around the clock in my body. It has been daring enough to deprive me of even more sleep and has inched my pain and intolerance (to anyone or anything) up to what must be the max.
I have had numerous highs and lows this week. Anger, guilt and condemnation have cycled endlessly in numbing loops. I have not wanted to move because I am really that tired. I sat at the kitchen table tonight having a conversation, getting a 4 year old ready to go, writing out something... and I have no idea how I got from there to this moment. Being in pain and being so tired makes me a zombie sometimes. All I can think about is rest. This afternoon I had the chance to skype with my parents online, and I made it an unpleasant experience with my attitude. I can't articulate how I want to be able to handle it, but that it's overwhelming to talk on the phone.
I've been doing a lot of reflection and seeking God in all of this. I've been so angry and so fearful and so angry. I have become negative. I have become pessimistic. I am constantly waiting for the next bad thing to happen. Not all of the time, but some of it is far too much. I worry about Mylie. I worry about my parents. I worry about my brother. I wonder if Aaron will get into an accident... my Aunties... anyone I know and love. I worry. I worry what will happen to my body next. What infection is plotting to emerge inside of me? There does not seem to be an end, only a constant physical breakdown somewhere inside of me.
I have asked God to show me an accurate vision of myself, because I don't have one. I don't see myself anymore. I am a ghost of me, but I am still fighting to win. I am my earthy father's daughter. I don't give up. I make it happen. My daddy taught me that and I thank God he did. If he didn't teach me how to be strong I would have given up a long time ago.
The other night I actually allowed myself to rest. I am only now realizing that although I have carried the unhealthy image that I am lazy or weak, I have in fact been busting my tail with no pause at all. I have been sick and in pain every single day for over a year with no stop in-between. I have been at the lowest point ever energy wise or emotionally and I have done it all while raising my 4 year old niece, moving 3x, helping loved ones through hard times, going to NC. Now I'm no martyr and I'm not boasting, but I am saying I am starting to understand that I have not, in the slightest bit, taken time to rest. To allow myself to take care of MYSELF even just a little bit. Instead I have gone mad trying to be "normal." Trying to laugh and joke and have energy that simply does not exist in my body. I have not been honest with MYSELF about what I need. I feel so guilty for even being sick. Like I don't have the right to breathe oxygen. Like I am wasting space. I have become listless and sad. I hardly take pictures which I have always loved, I don't find joy in a lot. Like I said, I always want to sleep. But I don't.
I instead clean closets and do laundry, I go to the store when I feel like I am dying, I make time to listen and take care of everyone around me...
except myself.
I stopped taking care of me. Did I ever really take care of me? I feel like I genuinely want to put others first so I normally do. But I neglect my sleep, my need for rest, my even setting aside time to process through the fact that I have a life-changing, debilitating illness. Is it killing me? I don't think so, but it's disabling and scary and very real and I don't know that for sure. When your body is breaking down piece by piece it's not so easy to know you are not going to die soon.
I want to be more loving and caring to myself. To not feel guilty for needing time alone. To not feel guilty for hunching my boundaries up just a smidge higher. If I can learn not to fight this beast to the death and misery of myself but to tame it... to work with it...not battling myself but seducing it sleep... not bowing down but grasping that when I fight so hard against it I am fighting against myself... if I can learn that and live it then maybe I can get through.
I will get through.
