…Damaged
It’s 3am and I’m lying on the floor in my studio, legs and arms splayed out, and I’m crying.
I’m crying because I hurt so much I can’t sleep.
I’m crying because I’m exhausted.
I’m crying because I’m damaged.
***
In looking at my pictures (because of course I wouldn’t post a bad one, would I?) or looking at me in person, you’d probably never know there’s anything wrong with me. A cursory glance shows a medium-height, thin girl with dark hair and bright green eyes. You might think I’m a little tired, but that’s it.
But of course, that’s not just it.
For one, as I’ve mentioned, I hurt. I always hurt. Always. My joints, my muscles, every bit of me. Some parts of me hurt more than others: for the past month or so, despite the ministrations of my chiropractor, the taking of OTC and prescription pain meds, the application of both ice and heating pads, and massages from my loving hubs, my lower back has given me continual, severe pain.
I can’t move without my joints sounding like exploding firecrackers.
Sometimes, I hurt so bad I walk with a limp. For no reason. A well-intentioned worker at Target recently told me I should use one of their rolling carts, but I refuse. As long as I can walk, even if it hurts and tires me and makes me limp, I’m gonna walk.
And I’m always tired. Part of it is the chronic (and currently super-bad) insomnia (which I’ve had since high school), and part of it is, well, I have no idea. Even when I sleep well, I feel tired.
Then there are my other fun symptoms: migraines, one or two a month, where light and noise send roofing nails into my head, and sometimes cause nausea. Occasional tingling in my wrists, fingers, and lips. Occasional cold fingers for no reason. A lupus-like rash on my face. A weird itchy rash on my elbows. And, oh yeah, the inability to grip well.
I was in a fast-food restaurant the other day, and the cashier asked if I wanted a small, medium, or large drink. I said medium. But the cup was huge, and I said “never mind, I’ll float away. I’ll take a small.” The girl laughed and said, “yeah, it’s because we’re little”… but the truth is neither of those. Although I do have a small bladder (thanks, Mom!), I have trouble gripping and holding onto things. I would probably have filled that cup and dropped it straight away.
Besides my physical symptoms, there’s the mental ones. The ones that make me feel crazy. The ones that see me crying in the middle of the night when the rest of the world is asleep.
I suffer from depression, and have my entire life, but didn’t get treatment for it until I had a three-day breakdown and couldn’t get out of bed and probably would have killed myself but I just didn’t have the energy. When I was 32. Until then I’d been told I didn’t need therapy. By someone I trusted, but someone who ultimately was wrong, and thus inadvertently added to the abuse I’d experienced in my life.
As if that wasn’t enough, I have anxiety. I have mild OCD. I have panic attacks. Crazy, amazingly vivid nightmares. Some social anxiety. I also have PTSD from the things I went through as a child. An abusive childhood, thanks to a bi-polar father who had also been abused as a child, then got even more messed up when he went to war during the Vietnam era.
I’ll be on anti-depressant meds for the rest of my born days. On the one hand, I’m thankful for the medication, because I’m certain I’d be dead without them, but on the other: sometimes they stop working. Like now. In addition to the physical issues I’m experiencing, I’m fighting a horrible bout of depression. And I have no idea which is the case: am I more depressed because of the pain I’m suffering? Am I more depressed because I had to quit teaching because of my health issues and thus lost my income and a huge part of my identity and motivation? Or am I more depressed because my meds are failing and it’s time to change again?
And then I’m made to feel even more stupid and crazy and depressed when well-meaning people suggest things that I could do that will supposedly cure what ails me. Things that of course! of f*ing course! I’ve tried, but that don’t do a damn thing to help me. (As I told a recent, erm, suggester… I’ve pretty much tried everything except virgin sacrifices.)
And the best part of all this? I can’t seem to get a doctor to believe me, believe that there’s something wrong with me. My labs all come back fine, and I’m summarily dismissed. I’m told I’m “too young”. I’m made to feel even more stupid and depressed when the doctors declare me perfectly healthy.
Even tho I’m not. I’m clearly not. I’m damaged, dammit.
***
I can keep lying on this floor, and I can keep crying, or I can get up.
I get up, and I open my computer, and I write this blog post. And now it’s 4am. And I’m gonna publish it before I chicken out about telling everyone all this extremely personal information about myself.
I may be damaged, and I may be tired of living like this, but I won’t give up. And I want others in my situation to know they are not alone.
And Monday, I go to a new doctor. One who I pray will actually listen, and keep listening, and help me find a way to live with my beautiful, damaged, perfect, wonderful, f*ed up self.
On a lighter note: I have to admit that I did a terrible thing yesterday: I was remiss in mentioning avid reader (and sharer) Paul Feeney for his excellent suggestion to write about Chocolate for C, but sadly I forgot the suggestion and didn’t even mention Paul. Even tho I’m a HUGE massive happy chocoholic. Forgive me, Paul? Chocolate sprinkles on top?
And here are Brandi’s ideas for “D” (sorry, for not using one of them this time, tho Discworld will show up under “G”): “Discworld. Dedication. Decisions. Druids. Dragons. Dragonflies. Daisies. Dependable. Dogs. Drizzle. Dazzle. Damn. Denmark.”
Note for those of you stopping by from the #AtoZChallenge who are using Blogspot as your platform – I am popping by your blogs and taking a bit of a wander, but unfortunately, Blogspot hates me, which means for some unknown, weird reason, I cannot comment on your blogs. But they’re all wonderful! Honest!
Amazingly creative people have lots to deal with, as though creativity comes at a price. Makes me wonder whether all those suffering from mental health issues (looks like this includes 3/4 of the world population) actually also have something unique to contribute to society. They seem to go together!
Thanks for stopping by and reading. And yes, I’ve had this convo before with some other creatives who suffer mightily from various ailments. Would we be creative without these brain goblins? I don’t know. Sometimes I think it’s too high a price, but then other times…
Great post Dee. Sorry to hear about all your struggles, but I love that, despite it all, you end your post on an optimistic note. Good luck with the new Doc and hope you feel better soon. Failing that I think it’s time to start sacrificing virgins. 🙂
My hubs says that one of things he loves most about me is my hope. I hope for brighter, prettier, better days ahead, even when all seems dark.
As for the virgins, your dad said it best – whereever am I gonna find any? 😉
There are things in life which make me angry. And things which feed my depression. And then there are things that do both. Always wish you peace. Always.
Thanks for stopping by, Mark. You are a very special, kind man. Remember that. <3
Great Blog! No suggestions for you but a question. where the hell are you gonna find any virgins?????
Aye… That’s the problem, eh?
<3 you, sweetie. I'm always sending up good thoughts for you, even when I'm not sneak attack hugging you. 😉
Back atcha, darling. <3 & hugs.
Debbie….sweet Debbie….I want to take your pain away! When I was 16 I went from Dr. to Dr. with a very weird and un-named ailment which caused weird tremors. I was given thorazine because one Dr said it was all in my head, and all kinds of spinal taps and tests by other Docs who finally announced I was suffering from a rare, eventually fatal ailment…first I would lose my ability to walk, talk etc. and finally breath. Well woops! I’m still here…walking, talking etc. At times I prayed for anything to help me feel better and was so depressed I couldn’t think of going on…but I did. Finally, my twin brother, who specialized in Neurology and Psychiatry and actually believed I had something wrong sent me to his buddy in the field who found a combination of meds that made me feel “normal”….so don’t give up!!! My sweet daughter suffered terribly for years before they finally diagnosed her with systemic lupus….so I sooooo understand. God Bless You!!!
Thank you, Elaine. <3 you, and I am ever so glad you're still here!
I can relate to this post. I’m tall, very skinny, and have a curved back from scoliosis. When I was a teen, one shoulder was higher than the other and one hip stuck out farther. I felt like a freak. I had spine surgery when I was fifteen to correct the scoliosis but my back will forever be curved. Because of that, and the rod, I am in constant pain. I have also dealt with depression. It’s something you can never quite escape.
I am sending good thoughts your way and lost of hugs. 🙂
-Chrys Fey
Tremp’s Troops – A to Z Co-co-host
Write with Fey
Thank you for your kind words, and for stopping by. I’m sorry to hear that you are in pain, even with treatment. 🙁
The sad thing about my scoliosis is that it was never treated (other than chiropractic as an adult), and my mother doesn’t even remember me being diagnosed!
Oh, and thanks for being an #AtoZChallenge2015 co-host! <3
I think you are amazing, Deb. Just amazing and beautiful and creative and hopeful, all while suffering unconscionably on this pass. Thank you for sharing your truth.
Thank you. Thank you. <3 back
D’Savannah, my dear friend & sister from another generation,
This is a wonderful post about awful things that I wish didn’t plague you. As one of those curs’ed well-meaning suggesters, I want you to find the magic button, mushroom, spell, virgin, etc., that will make all the awful things go away. But I do realize you’re a smart gal (and then some) who’s probably tried all the tricks of the trade. I love you & if I had transportation I would deliver this big, heartfelt virtual hug in person.
Sending you (& hubs) love and hugs, wishing you peace, sleep, health, and joy,
P.S. If I was writing a “D” post about you, my friend, it would be “Delightful”!
Aaaw. Thanks! I would definitely say the same about you. 🙂
love you too, dear friend & sister from another generation. {{{hugs}}} back.
You are courageous to speak about it Savannah and it happens a lot with the creative us. I’ve been through it and slowly making efforts to come out of the depression.
Thank you for stopping by and reading, and for your kind comments. I guess that’s part of what’s so frustrating – the slowness of getting out of the depression. I have to remind myself – and others, too, I suppose – to just take and celebrate the baby steps. <3
Sorry about all the things you are dealing with and going through. I do hope your new doctor has a better explanation than just a all is okay. Sending positive energy your way.
Dropping by from the A to Z
Thanks for stopping by and for your kind words and energy! I am hopeful as well!
And what a great idea for your AtoZ! I look forward to reading your posts!
Ouch.
Striking post. I hope you feel a little better today.
Happy a to z
Stuart
http://www.stuartlennon.com
Thank you! I am a wee bit better… more hopeful.
Good luck to you as well! I’ll check out your blog.
You’re so brave to share your feelings so candidly. Good luck with the new doctor and with the rest of the A to Z!
Thank you! And thank you for stopping by.
Good luck to you as well!
My dearest BT…I know you are struggling, and it is so hard to wonder if things will ever get better. I agree with Phyllis that you are “delightful”. 🙂 Look at how many people you have touched with this blog. Hope things get better for you. Lots of love!
Love back atcha, darling.
How absolutely horrid for you! It takes doctors forever to diagnose autoimmune and many other illnesses.
I recall dragging myself along until I just couldn’t any more. One GI doctor tried to be my therapist and failed to find the tumor in my small bowel that was benign but huge. He also failed to diagnose the ulcers in my small bowel and that I was suffering with Crohn’s. In the mean time, other doctors failed to diagnose rheumatoid arthritis, Sjogren’s syndrome, and all sorts of other ramifications of autoimmune illnesses.
You will be in my prayers. I hope you live in a big city and have excellent health insurance. I also hope and pray that you find the doctor(s) who will help you get better. I’m glad you have your husband and friends. Thank you for being so frank and honest and thanks for your hopefulness.
Visiting from A to Z,
Drusilla Barron
http://lovedasif.com
http://glamofgod.com
My theory on that is… these autoimmune diseases are most usually suffered by WOMEN, and the medical research basically ignores us.
I’m so sorry to hear you are a fellow sufferer … but I’m glad you have finally gotten some relief.
I do live in a big city, my health insurance is so-so, and I’m very hopeful the doctor I saw on Monday will be the answer to my prayers.
Thanks for stopping by!