Did Not Disturb The Peace~

It’s been an interesting few hours here. I’m still not sure what to think about it.

I was sitting in my chair, scanning Facebook and became dizzy, I kept fighting it off but it kept getting worse. Soon I was nauseated and stumbled my way to bed. This all felt like low cortisol but came on very suddenly. I laid down and the spinning kept getting worse.

I remembered I had not had my 10pm HC so stumbled and wobbled my way to the kitchen for water then back to bed with the med. I started getting scared!

What was happening. My pulse was dropping from 71 to 62 when I decided to take my blood pressure.

139/89, by what I could find that isn’t bad but not good and not my normal.

Hubby came in at this point and suggested I updose. Which I did.

About 30 minutes later I realized something…

my body was quiet.

I didn’t hear the rolling rumble of thundering pain through my muscles, the squealing searing pain in my head, the nails on a chalkboard grind in my bones, the rhythmic pound of my heart, the noise that is usually so loud was QUIET.

I laid there, at first wondering if I was even alive anymore, then not wanting to move, just to savor the tranquil silence. It felt amazing. It felt so unreal.

I didn’t move. I didn’t want to loose that glorious place of quiet. I laid there. Silently.

I’m not sure how much time passed but little by little the noise came back with an ache here and one there and it grew louder and now I’m back in the body I have come to know. As disappointing as it is to have the “noise” back, I’ll never forget the quiet I had, even though it only lasted a little while.

I did not disturb the peace.

I’m not sure what happened to me tonight.

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Who do you show? What do they see?

Who do you show? What do they see?

I wonder this more than I should. In fact I shouldn’t care at all, but I do. Invisible illnesses are just that, invisible, so what do people think when they see me versus what I say?

No one person in my life sees it all, my husband sees the most, but there are things I just don’t share. I have no family that lives close by so they only know what I tell them. The few friends I have locally, visits are known in advance and I can prepare, so they only see what I let them see. I don’t see anyone on an everyday basis (except hubby) so no one really know how I am, what I go through, what my days or nights are like.

So what do they think?

I read over and over about other spoonies and how their family thinks they are fakers, hypochondriacs, making it up, just lazy, just depressed, seeking attention, drug seekers. With the exception of hearing this when I was young, I don’t think I’ve heard it in years.

Does that mean they finally understand?

Or do they think the same things that is so common of invisible illnesses?

*found on Pinterest “Quotes”

I share pretty openly about my illnesses, not just so people know that of me but also for the benefit of others. Maybe they have similar symptoms and I can help speed up an otherwise lengthy diagnosis. Maybe they know of someone who has _____ illness and are not so open. In general I share for education, knowledge, and well, it’s my life.

I know that when another friend or family member is has the flu or recent surgery or even cancer, people flock to their support with well wishes, cards, messages of support, visits etc. but this doesn’t happen with chronic illnesses.

In fact the opposite happens; less involvement, less contact, less responses to social media, and so on. I wonder why this happens?

Is it because there is only so much support one can give? Are they sick of hearing about it? Do they give up on me as a person? Maybe they don’t believe me? I just don’t know.

The dynamics of chronic illness is different, what I could do yesterday I may not be able to today. Or maybe some days you see me active on social media and assume I am good, the reality is the days I am most active on social media are the days I am usually stuck in bed.

I am not here to try to convince you that there is more to me than what I show you, I don’t want to or need to convince anyone of my truth- I live it everyday.

This post was more of my wondering mind, knowing I am not alone in this chronic mad world, thinking onto the keyboard. I probably don’t want the answer to my questions. The answers would probably break my heart.

* Image from Deviantart

Yet I know, they only see what I show and with Invisible illnesses, showing is harder than telling. So they will probably only believe what they see. Such is life.

Keep fighting Warriors, not for them, but for you!

The Shame and Guilt~

*possible trigger warning

Several months ago I started on a diet & lifestyle change plan. I was wildly successful, at first.

I lost 30lbs, I can’t say I felt better physically but I felt better about myself. Then I allowed a cheat “day” and that became a week, became the holidays, became a month, then months.

The excuses poured from my mouth, even convincing myself of the “I need the carbs.” “I need _____.”

As I stood at the kitchen counter devouring my THIRD SANDWICH in a frenzy as if I would never eat again I felt shame! What had I became? How did this happen?

I had heard about dieters in this frenzy, this lack of control, this state of pain and shame, but never had I experienced it. My compassion now runs deep, this is something only experience can teach. You are not alone. I understand.

I knew the eating decisions I was making were bad, I knew I had to change but the more I felt guilt, the more I ate and the worse my decisions were getting. It started a vicious habit, a dangerous path. I literally ate myself sick more than once, not sick like IBS reaction but 3 sandwiches in minutes sick.

I was diagnosed pre-diabetic before starting this lifestyle change, I should not have devoured the types or amounts I was consuming in large quantities.

Looking back over the time that I was bingeing I see a pattern, I was depression eating. Or maybe I had given up and didn’t care if I lived or died.

I cared, but I didn’t. It mattered, but it didn’t.

Today something in me snapped.

Either live or die, but pick one and choose wisely because I am loved and this isn’t just about me.

I threw foods into the trash, I fixed me a healthy decision to eat.

I don’t want to feel the emotional guilt, I don’t want to feel so bloated I cannot bend over. There are so many things I don’t want, but I don’t want to die is number one.

So here I am months later, 190lbs, only 6lbs from where I started from the first time, so many lessons learned the hard way, but I have re-committed to myself, my health, my life and myself to the love of my family who will hurt if I’m not here.

I may have a dozen diseases trying to take me down, I may have a dozen reasons to give up, but I choose to be stronger! I choose to fight back by giving myself and my loved ones the best possible me. That is something I can take control of.

I need to remember that while others feel the physical benefits of loosing weight, I am not on their journey and my benefits will be different. My journey is mine. I am preventing more illnesses by making better decisions.

I will not achieve the 145lb by 6/1 like my original goal stated. My goal has nothing to do with numbers.

My goal is to change my mentality about food, to think of it as fuel not therapy or whatever I was thinking.

Yes I will weigh in and be excited as I go. I will not base my success on that. I will base my success on the decisions I make!

With all of that said, I am proud to say that I am still smokefree.