When I first got sick I started writing down every little symptom. It was a puzzle that needed to be solved and I believed with my whole heart that a doctor somewhere was going to diagnose me, medicate me, and set me back on the road to regular life. Now, nearly three years (or four depending on what we go by) I know that is not the reality.
I am aware that the issues I deal with, most especially Fibromyalgia, are chronic and long lasting. I know what medications aid me and certain things I can do to create wellness for myself, and I know that there is light at the end of that long, dark, lonely tunnel.
I still keep track of my daily symptoms. It has become a habit by now, and in some ways it helps to see how far I have come. It is a reminder that I am not crazy and that I am really and truly enduring... fighting... this disease. It went from scribbles on scraps of paper, to calendar paper, and eventually I started logging it into a composition book... a book that is now almost full.
Looking at these pieces of paper, pen scrawled across displaying the heartache and craziness of the last few years, is a bittersweet thing. I see how very far I have come, and I feel new peace and joy at where I am heading. This is certainly not what I expected to experience at 32 years of age, but it has been all mine for the taking, and I would not trade all of the tears, agony, and confusion for anything for it has resulted in growth unmeasured.
I am thankful.
For the last few years I have been unable to exercise on a daily basis, and yet... these past 5 days I have walked around the block every single evening. Today will make it 6. That is no easy feat, and I am so thrilled and excited! Is it easy? No. Not at all. I am in a huge flare, the invisible cotton stuffing and filling my ears and head, my limbs weak and in protest after going out yesterday. I feel the irritation mount as fatigue demands and sucks and takes from me with no warning. I have to correct as I type because my eyes strain and I misspell every other word. I say this, not as a woe is me, but as a sign that things can get better despite the very real illness invading my body.
Things DO get better.
The darkness gives way to a little light, and than more, and suddenly it's blazing, and even though the pain is still there, the fatigue is still pressing, it pales in comparison to feeling like I am back.
I am back.
Back where? Back to a mental state where I can go for a walk, knowing it will hurt, but that it will also make me feel emotionally better too. Back to laughing easily. Back to feeling hope and excitement. Back to wanting to be a part of the world again. Back to living.
I do not want to make light of this. This post has been 3+ years in the making. I did not just get sick, have a brief season of acceptance, and then prance my way into exercise and emotional stability. In actuality it has been grueling, 24/7 work. I have screamed, sobbed, lashed out in anger, been depressed.... severely depressed if I am being fully transparent here. I also have to be honest with myself and admit that I am not cured. I still have Fibromyalgia, and I am still liable to get mad, get depressed, or lash out. I am not perfect, and I am still sick. That hasn't changed. What has changed is my response.
I did not wake up 5 days ago and suddenly have this energy to bust out of bed and walk around the block. I still have to push myself to get going. If I can try to explain it, it's like this.... I was in pitch black for a very long time. It was so, so dark. I'm not even sure how I could see at all, but God was faithful, and He kept me going. EVERYTHING contributed. Every comment, every note, every moment of research, every prayer, every tear, every word from every person, each moment logged in my journal, every blog I read, every everything. I knew I was in a wild place, but I did not even know the depth until I started to come out of it a few months ago. And when I started to come out of the wild place, it was a slow, little by little process which led to 5 days ago, which led to yesterday, which led to today and this blog post. I feel like me again. Well, me with some changes. I don't feel like "a normal" but I feel the most normal I have in years. I feel lightness and freedom in my soul, in my spirit, and I will tell you, I had absolutely no idea how much I missed those things until I had them back. Suddenly I know that I know that I know that I can do this! I CAN DO THIS! Not only because I have been, but because the grief is gone and I can see somewhat clearly again. I remember my strengths. I was walking around in shame, walking around with my wounds on the outside.... so insecure, feeling judged, feeling afraid to do anything, say anything, be anything. I let what others said or thought dictate how I lived my life. I was lost. Now I feel secure, I feel like I can stand up for myself again, I feel like I have the ability to say no, because I have re-learned that I don't owe the world, and I have newly learned that I do NOT owe the world for being sick. It sounds the same but it's two very different things. Having Fibromyalgia, it's easy to feel defective and unusable, and not worth the time. Those are lies! It is unicorns and the fresh heady scent of flowers and dazzling streams of water to realize this!
I am not healed in body, but I believe that I am healed emotionally. The trauma of losing so much- job, home, health, friends, etc. has taken me through a desperate and gritty forest, but now I am breathing in the clean air and balance has been restored.
Thank you Jesus!
