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Digging up my own grave

October 5, 2018

 

Being young and sick has been my neutral. I never really allowed it to control me, or at least I thought I didn't. 

Like many other sick folk, this all didn't happen out of no where. I have a long list of ailments but only recently did they begin to limit me. 

My asthma and allergies that I've had since I was 5 were controllable. 

The psoriasis I've had since I was 7, that stays hidden under my thick hair, was more irritating than debilitating. 

The migraines that often made me call in sick since elementary were manageable, I could exist by medicating them and really just playing strong.

My anxiety and depression and mood disorders, that I still don't understand, that once were my main concerns. Now they are just part of me and what makes it harder for me to leave the house, to get out of bed, but no longer the main reason. 

The stomach aches, constipation, unreliable periods they were all just part of my youth. No doctor understood why, but as an adult I now know. 

In 2014, I was diagnosed with PCOS by doctors in Mexico. 

I got the care I needed, started really taking my health seriously, but I still didn't know how. I told myself I was taking care of myself, but going to therapy wasn't enough. I was eating like shit, I chain smoked and drank too much, I was treating my body like I had decades until I fell to illness.

Well, bitch, I was stupid.

In 2016, I was diagnosed with subclinical hypothyroidism. I was taking 25mg of the medicine to replace the hormone my body no longer makes. In late 2017, i finally was told I had hashimotos which is an autoimmune disease that causes my own body to kill my thyroid. They had known about this, but no one told me. No one told me and with that I didn't know that I should be taking better care of myself. I was falling apart by the time they told me. Almost two years since my first diagnosis and I am now on 112mg of the hormone. And I am still worse. They don't know if it's another autoimmune disease, because they spread and i already have two. 

I've been diagnosed with irritable bowl syndrome and they are floating around the idea of fibromyalgia. 

I eat clean now. I do everything I can in my power to take care of myself and not to be in debilitating pain. 

I don't think it was my fault, i don't blame me, most of my issues are hereditary. No matter what I was eating or putting into my body, I was born to be sick. It's stupid to wish that I had longer to be manageably sick,  but I still find myself wishing. Wishing that I knew how to manage this earlier on, that i had the money and opportunity to be able to afford all the crazy things that could make me not be in constant pain. Like a good doctor and cbd and all the shots and supplements and controversial therapies.

Instead I am left with a dug up grave for all the dreams I will never achieve in the forseable future. A grave for the person I thought I was. A Grave for the person I wanted to be. 

I have buried them in shallow ground, so maybe one day they can come back. But for now, I will find the stability in instability. i will reach for my goals that i've had  my whole life. i will find ways to reach them. I will let myself rest and find my new limits. 

I will ask for help, I will not be afraid of being an embarrassment.

I will feel better,

I will find the stability in instability. 

 

 

excuse the typos for i have brain fog. 

 

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Being young and sick has been my neutral. I never really allowed it to control me, or at least I thought I didn't. 

Like many other sick folk, this all...

Digging up my own grave

October 5, 2018

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