I feel like such a mess. I want to do my best to put it into words, because when this feeling passes, I forget how bad it is in the moments I have to endure it.
What is wrong with me? Why am I such a disaster? Why are all of my efforts to heal not helping me? Am I crazy? Is this in my head? What am I not seeing?
I feel upset and extremely emotionally imbalanced. I want to cry, but the tears won’t come; I want to scream, but I won’t let myself lose control like that; I feel like falling onto the floor and squirming like an idiot until someone comes and tells me it’s really going to be okay. My body feels irritated, itchy, and swollen. I’m in pain. My joints hurt a lot. My hair fell out a TON today. I feel like this is too much. I feel like I’m drowning.
Everything is darkened. Nothing is sweet, there is no feeling of joy; my happiness feels bankrupt.
I am utterly and completely composed on the outside; you’d never know I’m struggling to keep going, holding back tears at every turn and through every forced smile.
My doctor wants me to get my home tested for mold; I spoke to the mold inspector and it will be $1500. More money. I’ve ruined our finances. It’s my fault.
I don’t believe God wants me to be sick and depressed. Why would the maker of everything beautiful and good want me, His child, to be so unbearably uncomfortable and distraught with emotional strain daily? I love Him. People who are sick have a tendency to say it’s all a part of God’s plan, but what if it’s not? What if I’m just trapped in my own cycle of illness, unable to experience all the good that He has planned for my life?
I’m not feeling inspired to write anything encouraging today. I’m struggling today. My face is red and full of cystic blemishes that hurt so badly. My emotions are freaking out of control, though all inside. I am feverishly looking for more resources and insight online: acupuncture, qi balancing, energy work, anything.
I’m at a point of desperation. I reach those sometimes, where I feel like I’ll read any book, listen to any lecture, buy any tool or herb that promises to help, and eat any food that will relieve my symptoms.
I watched a video today of a man who was recently paralyzed, and I asked myself why I feel so jacked up if I’m a million times more physically strong than that man. Why? Why the hell can’t I figure this out?
It’s SO challenging for me to be in the position that I’m in, because I am an incredibly rational and intelligent person. I know deep down that this is not some made up condition that I’m drowning in. I know damn well that something is wrong, but I don’t know what it is. I know, rationally, that I’m not as bad as I feel, and that there are millions of people who would beg to trade places with me. I know, logically, that I really am a lot better than I feel and that I should be able to just snap out of this mood. I ask my body what it is and what it needs, and I try to listen as best as I can, but I just feel so confused at this point. I feel imbalanced.
Last week I found a Tibetan doctor who lives in an underground cave. People travel to from around the world. He cures people of diseases and ailments and bad energies, and I considered what it would cost and the logistics of going to see this man. I mean, I literally went through the logical process of putting myself on a plane and standing outside of his cave waiting to hear if my daily lottery number was called. How long could I afford to do that? Where would I eat clean food and where would I sleep while in Tibet? What if he can really cure me? It’s nuts.
It’s so hard explaining my circumstances to people, because I genuinely feel like people don’t take me seriously. I also feel like I shouldn’t discuss how I feel with people, because it dampens the mood drastically. Like at work. The doctor will ask me how I’m doing, I’ll tell him, and he’ll tell me he’s sorry in an awkward, uncomfortable way. He tells me to “keep doing what I’m doing” and that “I’m already better.” He doesn’t want to hear my story when it involves genuine sadness and unfiltered emotion. Nobody does. Everyone, family included, wants to hear that I’m doing great and feeling better than ever. So sometimes I say that I am. It normally goes something like this: “How are you?” “I’m good! Coming along, you know!” How can anyone genuinely come close to understanding what I’m going through when I’m walking around with make-up and perfume on, I look put together, I smile the right way and say the right things, and I blend in like any “normal” person would. I say I’m struggling immensely and I ask for prayer, but I see and hear some of the remarks that people say and, naturally, they’re confused. How can I be falling apart when I’m so put together?
Yesterday I told my husband that sometimes I dream about taking all of our money and moving to a different country and starting over by myself (not that I ever would). I’d change my name and become someone new. I’d go blonde. I’m desperate for healing and recovery from whatever the hell problem I have that no one can figure out. What if it’s all my fault? What if I’ve done this to myself?
I’m so tired of searching and trying. I don’t see the end in sight, and it’s incredibly discouraging and disheartening.
I love the show The Blacklist. It’s so unbelievably cathartic. The suspense is tangible and it makes me feel so alive and there. I mean, that show is legitimately the best show I’ve ever seen. The action is unreal. Red, the main character, is a boss. The stories these writers come up with are so.freaking.cool. I love the escapism that show allows me. It’s a thrill ride and a half, and I love that for that hour I get to forget about my circumstances. We just watched the season 3 finale and waiting for the next season (and the spinoff series!) is going to be tough.
I go to the park, but I don’t experience the pleasure of being there. I could be amidst hundreds of people, and I’d feel painfully isolated and detached. I could be sitting on mounds of billions of dollars, and I’d feel empty (Well, maybe. I’ve never actually sat on a billion dollars, so if you think that will help and you have that amount of money laying around, reach out fo sho.). The hardest part is that none of it is within my control. Do you know how depressing it is to feel perpetually stuck and sad and have no power over changing it? I have joy in Christ and in His work on the cross, and I have joy in the expectation and hope of heaven. But my earthly joy is so unpredictable that it hurts. What am I doing wrong? What am I not understanding?
This happens all the time; I’ll feel okay, and then I crash. I am doing fine, and then I’ll be doing terribly.
“If it were simply emotional and psychological, there wouldn’t be physical correlations,” I tell myself. Like the acne and the digestive distress, the fatigue and brain fog, the muscle tightness and tingling, the joint pain, the severe breast tenderness and bodily pain. And if it is “all in my head” my labs wouldn’t be out of range in so many areas. I remind myself of this when I start to think this is all some bad dream that I’m stuck in where I’ve inadvertently constructed this illness. And if I have, fine. I have peace, because I’m not here by malicious intent or contrived handiwork. I struggle with comprehending and analyzing how to undo what’s done though.
Mercury poisoning, mold illness, Lyme disease, bacterial overgrowth, fungal infection, you name it, I’ve been told it’s a possibility. And yet, after every supplement I’ve taken and every herb I’ve tried; after countless therapy and counseling sessions; after cocooning myself at home for a year and a half; after mud-packing, detoxing, IV nutrition, a ridiculously strict diet, meditation, prayer, mindfulness, chiropractic work, etc. I’m still unwell.
Sometimes it’s too much. Most of the time it’s too much. I just get so overwhelmed at my pathetic circumstances. Gosh, my poor husband would be better off without me. He’d be free from his chains if I just poofed away. My poor mother would be free from worrying about her perpetually sick and disenchanted daughter whom she’s coached and helped endlessly throughout life. Everyone would just be in such better balance. What the hell do I even contribute to life? Those are the lies the enemy whispers amidst my distress. I know those are lies, and I know I’m worth fighting for. I know I’m strong and I know I contribute what I can. I know I’m doing my best.
I have vivid dreams when I sleep. They’re so fun. I meet my favorite YouTube stars, go on crazy fun adventures, meet all kinds of interesting people, and the best part is that I REALLY feel like I’m there. In fact, I’m kind of convinced that I actually travel to a different dimension. I live out some of my best dreams, like going to New York and meeting some crazy amazing people and tasting incredible food (the kind with canola oil and gluten). I can smell the air at the top of the mountains and feel the excitement coursing through my veins.
These are the thoughts that run rampant as I sit here with tears in my eyes. I don’t know what else to do or try. I’m sorry. I know this is terrible, but I just feel so sad in the depths of my spirit.
Maybe I need to reach out to my biological father who disowned me before I was born. Maybe he’s got answers. Maybe all I need is a father.
I don’t want kids. I’ll ruin them.
One day it’ll be better. It has to be, right?
I’m so sorry if I did anything wrong to deserve this. I honestly am so deeply sorry if I messed up along the way and caused myself these problems.
I pray for someone strong and capable of helping me to come alongside me and infuse me with their positive, uplifting, healing energy; I want to know where I’ve gone wrong and how I can fix it. I feel like I’m trapped in a murky black hole.
Where do I go from here? There’s only so much money. Do I try Chinese medicine? Do I spend the money on nutritional balancing? Do I pursue the mold illness route? Do I stop trying? Is this my life? Will I ever be better?
I just want to be who God wants me to be, and this doesn’t feel like what God would want for me. Why would this be something that a loving and kind God desires for His child? This feels like perpetual punishment.
I mean, look back at a few days ago when I wrote about laughter. Compare that with today. These yin and yang emotions that come and go are so imbalanced and have no rhyme or reason. One day I’m crazy happy and the next day I’m thinking about how pathetic and sad I am. Today I woke up feeling like a mess, and then I got to work and had to force myself to be silly and make myself laugh by doing my best, silent Miranda Sings impersonation at my computer (Google her…she’s everything). Then I felt like I wanted to cry again. Fderiefdjlejfdjfdfdksfjdjfdkl! How is this something God wants for me? Why would He want that for me?
I called two Chinese medicine doctors today. I think that’s worth considering. But what if it’s not? What if it’s just like everything else that has a placebo effect and then withers away, leaving me out of more money and still sick.
Maybe it is mold. What if I’m that close and just don’t know it yet.
I had a phone consultation with a highly respected doctor last year, and he spoke to some spirits or something (no, I didn’t call him knowing he would contact spirits) and gathered that I had a fungal infection in my nasal cavity and a systemic imbalance, but that my symptoms make me feel a lot sicker than I actually am. Maybe I need to go see that doctor. After testing through my current doctor, I found out that I do, in fact, have a fungal infection in the depths of my nasal cavity, like this other doctor told me over the phone before testing, and we’ve found that my body is very imbalanced. But why? And why can’t I get better?
Is it something I’m eating? Is it mold? Is it some strange virus I picked up overseas? Do I have a digestive imbalance so potent that it’s making me live a rollercoaster of emotions? Is it as simple as hormones? What supplements are helping? Why did I feel so great two months ago? Why do my breasts feel like they’re getting ready to feed a brood of five children around the clock? Why can’t I tolerate most foods? What should I be eating? Why is my hair falling out? If it’s all stress, how do I fix it? If it’s psychosomatic, how the hell did I get so messed up and how do we fix it?
Breathe. If I could do anything and go anywhere right now, I’d choose Turks and Caicos with my husband. I’d be laying on the warm beach, feeling the sun on my face and hearing the waves crash. I wish I were back there.
Maybe I need to be more like our dog trainer. I seriously love that dude. He doesn’t give a you know what. He is as chill as they come. He’s got ratty dreadlocks, smells like essential oils, talks low and slow, doesn’t get flustered in a room full of yappy dogs, wears handmade bracelets, laughs a quirky laugh, has a ridiculously calm demeanor, and straight up is livin dat stress free lyfe. He’s one of the nicest people you’ll meet. Dogs love him, and that says a ton. I asked him what his secret is. Can you guess it? Haha. I’ll give you a hint: his dog’s name is Cush.
If you’re reading this and you know of anyone who you think can help me, please let me know in the comments below, or by contacting me. I want to be better so, so badly. I just don’t know what’s wrong.
I also desperately need a vacation, so if you own a time share somewhere warm and tropical, holla at cho girl.
P.S. I’m fine even though I’m struggling. I realize that many of you who know me and see me often are probably really shocked reading this because I don’t ever show this part of me. That’s why I’m writing it down. It can’t stay bottled up. I haven’t forgotten that I’m extremely blessed and fortunate. I know that I am abundantly loved and valued by the One who made me in His image and by the loved ones He’s surrounded me with. My soul is healthy. I just want to let that be known. This whole writing thing is extremely therapeutic. In this last hour and half, I’ve cried, laughed, grunted, and smiled. I be cray, but I’m getting by. Don’t worry, be happy.