I feel as though I'm walking on a tightrope with me on one end, and all of my possible dreams for the future on the other. As I carefully force my aching and trembling body to take one careful step at a time, there's this constant fear that nags at the back of my neck that someone, at any given moment, is going to walk up behind me and push me just enough to send me plummeting to the deepest depths of despair. Thankfully that hasn't happen yet. I'm still carefully placing one foot of my broken body in front of the other, and with that I slowly get one step closer to fulfilling my dreams, even if they are miles and miles away. My entire life all I've wanted to be is a wife and mother. Ever since I was old enough to know what marriage was, I knew that was where I wanted to be "when I grew up." I envisioned my future husband, my future children, and my future home centered on God, love for Him, and love for each other. As I grew up I would make lists of things I would and wouldn't do as a mother, and lists of what my husband would be like. I would look at picture of homes and decide what I wanted mine to be like. I watched my mother raise all of my siblings, and me, and I took careful note of the loving and beautiful way she treated us, and her husband. I took careful watch of my dad, and how he treated my mother, and I took mental note of how I wanted my future husband to be "just like that." My vision was clear, and every decision I've ever made in my life has been conducive to that dream. That's all I've ever wanted. I believe that the amount of money you make does not determine success. My belief has always been that success is discovered through family, and the love and fulfillment that comes from having one. The day I got diagnosed with Lyme Disease, was the day that all of dreams went flying out the window and off into a distant existence where I could no longer reach them. It was the day where I began my endless basket of questions for the future, and since then it's only gotten bigger and bigger. I don't know if my dreams are reachable at this point. And it scares me to think that I'll never be able to be the woman that an amazing man gets to come home to everyday. It scares me to think that I'll never have those babies that I'd get to raise and love. It scares me to think that my home centered on God, will never be. I have other dreams too. I've always wanted to open a vocal studio. and give to children the incredible miracle of music that my first voice teacher gave to me. I've always wanted to write a novel. One that inspires and uplifts the human soul. I've always wanted to take my voice, and perform with the objective to uplift and inspire peoples lives. I've always wanted to learn how to cook. I've always wanted to become a teacher. I've always wanted to be the perfect homemaker and continuously develop skills that would make it so I could do that. I've always wanted to be someone. I've always wanted to help people. But how will I ever reach such a far away destination when I'm stuck at home in bed, suffering so bad that I don't even know if I'll make it out alive? I don't know the complete answer to that, but I'd like to try and answer it anyway. .Chronic illness is something that you take one minute at a time. Not one day, one week, one month, or even one hour, but one minute. In fact, there are some days that I feel as though I'm taking it one second at a time. And with each precious pain, anxiety, and stress free second, I count that second as a blessing given to me from my loving Heavenly Father. Every piece of strength I manage to muster at any moment I consider a gift from God. I can not do this alone, and I'm grateful that God is always with me.
In every battle, there is always a secret weapon. My secret weapon in this battle is faith. Faith keeps me fighting, and faith keeps my hope for the future. I keep telling myself every moment of the day that I have to keep my faith. Faith that I'm going to get better. Faith that I can fight this and come out stronger. Faith that God is always with me. Faith that God can heal me. Or even faith that I won't be healed, but that I'll find a way to live happily, despite my broken down body, mind, heart, and soul. Without my faith, I am nothing, and my hope that I am so desperately trying to obtain slowly vanishes into thin air. Some days I have faith that I'll get better, and other days I feel hopeless and despairingly distraught. I look at it this way. Every day I try to do at least one thing that brings me joy. Even if it's microscopically small. If I successfully accomplish one small thing, then I'm not finished yet. Lyme hasn't won yet, and I don't intend on letting it. This trial in my life is incredibly hard, but I want to stay strong. I want to fight this battle, and I want to win. I'm exhausted in every sense of the word, but I can't give up. I just can't. I'm so grateful to my Savior for giving me the strength I need to continuously fight this. I'm so grateful for the support that comes from my family and others that I hold close to my heart. This is a lonely battle, but knowing that I'm never completely alone is extremely comforting. I'm not giving up yet, and even though the tears streaming down my face scream fear, anxiety, and hopelessness for my future, my faith says otherwise. I intend on keeping my faith in the present in order to dispel my fear for the future. I'll still have my home, my husband, and my children. It just my be a little different vision that I had before. The important thing is that the vision I had of endless amounts of love that takes place in my future will not change, Lyme or no Lyme. In times of fear, my faith will always come out conqueror.
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It's crazy how it seems like I've watched my body slowly deplete over time due to my Chronic Lyme Disease. I know that nobody sees it except for a few people that I hold very close to my heart, but to my own two eyes, I look sick. It's one thing to feel sick, but it's another thing to watch yourself be sick. Watching my body disintegrate to what feels like nothing is incredibly scary for me. Honestly, I want want my old body back. I want to feel the age that I actually am. I want to be able to run and not feel like I'm going to pass out. I want to walk like I used to. I want to be able to carry myself with posture and grace. I want the color in my face to come back, and I want my hair to grow back to it's original length. I want to gain the twenty pounds that I lost. I want to feel and look like me again. Despite all the insecurity and hopes for my body to regenerate itself, I've learned a lot about myself since I've been diagnosed. My perspective of my body and how I see myself has definitely changed, and these changes are perspectives that I will hopefully keep with me all throughout my life, lyme or no lyme. #1.I can be beautiful despite how I feel physically or emotionally about myself.“The most beautiful people we have known are those who have known defeat, known suffering, known struggle, known loss, and have found their way out of the depths. These persons have an appreciation, a sensitivity, and an understanding of life that fills them with compassion, gentleness, and a deep loving concern. Beautiful people do not just happen.” ― Elisabeth Kübler-Ross This has currently become one of my favorite quotes. I figure I haven't quite found my way out of the depths yet, but I hope to reach that destination one day. I've known defeat, suffering, struggle, and loss. These are all things that I have agonized over and over again in my head as I've gone through trial after trial. I've watched myself bloom into an entirely different person than how I was before I suffered. I suppose that happens to all of us as we suffer and grow stronger. You don't grow and progress in a state of comfort. You grow and progress in states of misery, pain, fear, and so many other forms of suffering that we as human beings go through. Our Savior, Jesus Christ suffered all of the sins and pains of the world. My ultimate goal is to become like Him. And in order to do that I must suffer just like Him. It is through suffering that you gain the attributes of Jesus Christ such as patience, long suffering, hope, faith, charity, and so many more. If through suffering I find myself one step closer to becoming like the Savior, then my suffering is completely worth it. Just because I momentarily feel ugly, does not mean that I am ugly. I'm beautiful because God created me to be that way, and I continue to become beautiful as I center my life on Christ and strive to become more like Him. #2. Having a healthy body is a matter of taking care of yourself and balancing your life out in all aspects.I'll never forget my high school Physical Education classes I had the pleasure of experiencing while I was growing up. The concept that I acquired from those classes are that if you work yourself to a pulp working out everyday then somehow you're supposedly healthy and in shape. My experiences in those classes were less than pleasant. It was simply a long line of self absorbed teachers that worked their students incredibly hard and then claimed that it was healthy for them. Well let me inform you that for me it just meant waking up everyday for the next week with aching joints and muscles and not wanting to even get out of bed. No offense to all of those teachers of times past, or to even teachers now, but you're teaching physical education completely wrong. Keeping your body healthy and strong isn't a matter of working out so hard that your body can't move the next morning. Health is all about balance in all things that take place throughout your daily life. Eating healthy, a healthy amount of exercise, and filling your mind and heart with healthy pastimes are all a part of improving your physical health. Being sick all the time has taught me that maybe I can't go on a long run everyday, and maybe when I walk on the treadmill I have to walk at the lowest setting, but that's the level that my personal self is at. That's all my body can take, and that's okay. Living a healthy lifestyle is something we all have to work toward, and for me it's hard. I hate exercising. Just as some people may hate eating healthy food. But we can always progress in life. I've come to know that through living a healthy balanced lifestyle, I can feel healthy and do things to improve my physical self, despite my chronic illness. #3. My scars do not make me ugly, but instead they signify strength in overcoming hard things.Throughout my life I've developed a lot of scars. I once drew a picture of what I thought my heart would look like if you could transfer it to piece of paper. Pretty beaten up right? On a creative tangible level, that's how I pictured it at the time. I had been through a lot, and I needed a visual to get my thoughts straight. I suppose if I drew a current picture of my heart it would look quite different. There would still be scars, open wounds, and maybe even a knife or two gouging out a portion of it. But there would be a special part of my heart that has been healed from past experiences. Healed through patience, hope, faith, prayer, and lot of love from my Heavenly Father, and from the people around me. I don't just have scars on my heart. Chronic Lyme is to blame for not just emotional scars, but physical scars as well. I don't like talking about my physical scars. I don't like drawing attention to them. I don't like their existence. But despite the scarring that will hopefully fade with time, I don't believe that scars make me ugly in any way. A scar, whether it be physical or emotional, is not a sign of weakness, but a sign of strength and perseverance. I used to think my scars were a mark of defeat. But I've come to know that they are truly a mark of beauty and continuance of healing. As they continue to fade, they remind me of my journey with chronic illness and how far I've come. I hope one day I'll be able to look back and hardly see them at all, but know what I went through to heal completely. Some of the horrible things I've experienced through this illness I will always hold close to my heart simply because they've taught me a lot and helped me to grow as a person. My scars will be one of those things. Even as they fade, I still hold them close as a reminder of my incredible journey. #4. I'm not beautiful because of how I look, I'm beautiful because of who I am."Do you suppose it matters to our Heavenly Father whether your makeup, clothes, hair, and nails are perfect? Do you think your value to Him changes based on how many followers you have on Instagram or Pinterest? Do you think He wants you to worry or get depressed if some un-friend or un-follow you on Facebook or Twitter? Do you think outward attractiveness, your dress size, or popularity make the slightest difference in your worth to the One who created the universe? He loves you not only for who you are this very day but also for the person of glory and light you have the potential and the desire to become." -Dieter F. Uchtdorf
Each and every one of us have individual worth given to us by God. Without this quality we would be nothing. Without God, we are nothing. He is the almighty creator that created us and is the reason behind every divine breath we take. He loves us. And in His eyes, we are of infinite worth. To Him it does not matter how sick I am, or how sick I look. His love for me is infinite and it is through THAT knowledge that I have come to know what beauty is. Beauty comes through living the way that our Father in Heaven would have us live. It comes from prayer, love for God, and believe it or not it comes through our trials and afflictions. I'm not beautiful because of the amount of makeup I use to cover up my gray face. I'm not beautiful because I wear less than a size two and have a thigh gap that is apparently "attractive" according to social media. I'm not beautiful for any physical aspect of me. In fact right now, I feel sick and ugly. But despite that, I'm beautiful because I'm a daughter of God who loves me and my love for Him is everlasting and true. I used to think that if I looked a certain way I would be beautiful. That's as far from truth as it gets. Beauty doesn't come from outward appearances, but from inward struggle, testimony, and purpose given to us by God, our Father in Heaven. I lay on the couch on Monday afternoon with a good book and a cup of herbal tea. My body felt heavy under my own weight and my head felt similar to a bag of bricks. My eyes felt heavy and my hands shook from all the pressure in my joints. I've had the opportunity throughout my life to get particularly comfortable with the constant companion of nausea, brain fog, cognitive dysfunction, weakness of limbs, and tremors. I've had those for so long it's almost like they're a part of me. But this pain was different. This pain was heavy and exhausting. I almost felt like I was getting a bad case of the flu. At the time, I had no idea what I was in for. Night came and by then I was paralyzed with pain. Sleeping was impossible. Every time I would lay on one side for too long, it would start to hurt and I would have to roll over to my other side which caused a whole new strew of pain. The bricks in my head turned into a sledge hammer gouging into my skull. The heaviness of my muscles morphed into throbbing pain that bit at every muscle is my body. My spine felt like it was being wrung like an old rag, and my hips felt like someone was trying to detach them from my waist. My legs felt like the muscles were being pounded with a mallet and my feet felt like they didn't even belong to me anymore. Everything was constantly spinning. Everything was throbbing. Everything hurt. I have never been in such terrible pain in my entire life. I've felt lots of pain before, but this was pure horror. The majority of this lasted for three days. Three days straight of intense pain. One night in attempts to get up and out of bed by myself, I passed out. I hit my head, and bruised my hip on my hard kitchen floor. All I remember is opening my eyes and wondering why I wasn't laying in my bed. I then recalled everything and knew exactly why I wasn't in bed. I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry for help. I wanted to punch something. I had every emotion at once while simultaneously feeling nothing at all. All I can say is I would never wish that pain upon anybody. EVER. Well I'm happy to say I made it out alive. My pain subsided for the most part and I'm not dead yet. I'm still sore and recovering. I feel like I've been badly beaten up and am barely crawling away from it, but I'm one herx closer to being completely healed from this awful illness and that alone gives me hope. Thank goodness for hope. I will never let go of my hope, for it is my source of peace through this hard and discouraging time.
After this past week, I've gained a new appreciation for my life, for my body, and for the amazing people in my life. I wake up in the mornings now and feel like I'm 80 years old. My body is just sore and my heart and soul are exhausted. But after all of that pain, I'm so grateful. I'm grateful for the ability to walk all by myself, and I'm grateful to be able open my eyes without them hurting. I'm grateful that I can use my hands without joint pain, and I'm grateful that even though my body doesn't feel like it functions properly, it's still functioning. It's still working. It's not giving up. I'm not giving up. I'm so grateful for all the people around me that love and support me. I feel incredibly blessed to have certain people that I love so much be a part of my life right now. I could not do this without them. Most of all I'm grateful for my amazing parents who never left my side, who stayed up with me all those nights, who provided me with comfort, and who peeled my half dead carcass off the floor after I passed out and brought me back to bed. Thank goodness for my amazing, patient, kindhearted, and loving parents. I can not walk this journey alone. Thank goodness that God has provided me with the amazing people I need to help me through it. I'm incredibly grateful for one more thing, a huge blessing in my life. I'm truly grateful for my Savior, Jesus Christ. Without Him I would not have gotten through all that pain and suffering. I would be done. There were times when I wanted to be done, but through the Savior's healing power I somehow managed to pull through. Thank goodness for that. I love my God, and my Savior with all my heart. The tender mercies of the Lord that are given to me on a daily basis are truly what get me through life right now, and I am incredibly grateful. I've shed a lot of tears this week, but I truly believe that tears are a beautiful form of expression. My tears are not a sign of weakness or failure, but an expression of strength and steadfastness. I'm not a quitter, and I'm not giving up yet. I'm a warrior, and I intend on beating this thing no matter how hard I have to fight. So to all the warriors out there, here's a piece of hope. It's not over yet. Keep fighting. It's always rough on the battlefield, but when you come out victorious, you'll remember how hard you fought, and it'll all be worth it. One thing I truly love about writing is that I get to be completely real. We all have struggles and trials in our lives, and yet we cease to talk about them. We paste on a fake smile and play the tough guy while inside we're falling apart. Well my writing is my safe zone to be real. No fake smiles, no masks, no reminiscence of a barbie doll, and no sugar coating. Just me and my inner most thoughts and feelings; imperfections and all. Sometimes coping isn't possible if you can't get your thoughts and feelings straight, and I suppose that this is my way of saying "Hey, I'm real. I'm a human being. No, I don't look perfect right now. Yes I'm in pain right now. And yes, I did just spend my entire day in bed because of my chronic illness and there is absolutely nothing wrong with that."
With that said, I'm going to be completely real with you now. The holidays are not easy. They never have been. Don't get me wrong. I love Christmas, and I acknowledge the most important parts of the holidays. But even then, there are some days that I'm in too much emotional and physical pain to care about the holiday season at all. Two Christmases ago, my mother was so sick that she could barely get out of bed to spend Christmas morning with us. Since then it feels like the domino effect has taken place in my home and family life. Just one thing after another. What do I have to be thankful for when I don't even really have the strength or motivation to get out of bed on some mornings? How do I put the happy into the holidays when knives are stabbing me in the stomach and my legs feel like they're going to give out at any moment? Where's the merry in Christmas when I'd rather do anything but lie in pain, but my chronic fatigue rather have me lay in bed. I was doing so much better for a couple of weeks, and then it's almost as if my Lyme got bored and decided to torture me for its own sick joy. A few nights ago I lay on my floor, wincing in pain, and praying for some relief. The tears burned down my smeared face and discouragement flooded my mind and heart. All I wanted was a form of rest at that moment. With Chronic illness sleep (if you can obtain it) is your best friend. Your brief escape. Your peace of mind for the time being. I'm so grateful that even despite all the pain I feel, I'm still able to sleep soundly and forget my agony for a small moment. And with that, there are so many more small moments in life that I feel incredibly blessed to be a part of. Coping with chronic illness is all about looking to the small moments. I'm so grateful for my family and close friends that I have that bless me with those small memories of joy during a hard time in my life. Life is not all bliss, but seeing the bright side of even the smallest things will bring just enough light into life to make it through the day. So to all that are struggling through the holidays, (or anytime of the year in that case) you're not alone. You're loved, and I pray that every small moment of joy will flood your heart which in turn will allow sorrow to flee from your mind. Look to the little bits of joy that life brings. It's those things that will get you through your hardest times. I hope your holiday season to be full of love, and I hope we can all find Christ in Christmas. I wish you enough strength to get through the holiday season. Happy Holidays, and Merry Christmas. My dad woke me from my restless slumber with an exhausted breath of air. I groggily rolled over on my lumpy air mattress and looked at my phone. 2:00am. I inquired as to why he woke me as he instructed me to turn my phone off due to Mom's hypersensitivity to electricity. All of a sudden I understood why he woke me as the familiar groans of extreme pain filled my ears. I'd gotten so used to hearing my mother's cries in the middle of the night that my heart was almost numb to the heartbreak that came with each cry. I did as I was told and watched as Dad made his way back upstairs through the dark shadows of the house to tend to my mother. I rolled over and pulled the blankets closer to me. My sister's basement was so cold, and my air mattress felt like it was trying to swallow me up. I contemplated moving to the couch in attempt to get warmer, but I couldn't convince my exhausted body to move. I contemplated the events that had taken place in the last few weeks. It had only been a couple weeks since my parents and I had left our house in the middle of the night and moved in with my sister and her husband in order to flee from the electrical power lines that towered up next to my house. My mom once described her hypersensitivity to electricity as "literally feeling the electrical current moving through her veins." I shuddered at the thought of that level of physical pain searing through someone's body and rubbed my eyes in frustration. So many memories of horrific nights surged through my memory as I lay in discomfort. Eventually I was able to lull myself back to sleep, despite my hyperventilating mind. I woke up to a sudden rush of agitation. My Dad had woken me again and his voice sounded desperate. I knew something was wrong as he informed me that Mom's symptoms had increased and she was continuously getting worse. I wasn't quite sure what he meant by that, but I knew it was going to be a long night. I quickly threw my covers off of me and rolled off the edge of my mattress. A cold burst of air slit through my nerves as I got up and ran upstairs. I ignored the cold and made my way to my mother's bedside, catching a glimpse of the kitchen clock. 4:00am. As I entered the room, my older sister was already settled on the side of my mom's bed. My throat tightened and my stomach tied itself in knots at the sight of my mother in that dark room. That's when I knew. My mom was ready to die at that moment. She was ready to give up, to call it quits. She was intense physical pain and she couldn't do anything but feel completely helpless. That night, my mother was literally staring death in the face. I crawled up next to my mother and cried. I couldn't handle the vision of helplessness that was my mother at the time. One by one my siblings showed up at the front door. It seemed as though a dark cloud had washed over the house that night as my mother quietly spoke what we thought would be her last words of hope, love, and the beautiful reminder that families are forever. I laid next to my mother in despair and clasped her hand as hard as I could, swearing to myself that I would never let go. I'll never forget what she said to me as I pleaded "Please don't die! Please!" Her words pierced through all of our hearts that night. I felt as if the floor had fallen out from underneath my feet, and that I was about to lose everything that I held near and dear to my heart. We all solemnly stood in the kitchen. My bare feet frozen up against the kitchen tile. I thought that any second now my body was going to break like a shattered vase. My brother approached me and embraced me with love and empathy. I've always looked up to my oldest brother and his embrace was incredibly comforting at the time. What seemed to be a few minutes passed by as we all loaded up the cars and drove Mom to the hospital. It had been such a long time since I had seen my family together like this all as one and I wanted to cry. My silent prayers filled my mind and heart as we all paced the hospital lobby and awaited the news of death that we prayed would never come. That day holds a special place in my heart. I learned a great deal about long suffering, enduring to the end, and how precious life truly is. My mom didn't die that night. In fact, she's on her journey towards healing, same as I and we're walking this path together now. The strength that my mother has especially in the worst of times is truly incredible to me. We experience things in life to learn, grow, and become the people that God intends for us to be. Most people don't even believe that Lyme is a real thing. And if I wouldn't have suffered that night I would not be in as good of shape that I am now. I would not know what my disease is. I wouldn't be able to help people. I wouldn't be able to be a source of comfort and inspiration that I so desperately wish to be in people's life. I know suffering. And without my knowledge of suffering I wouldn't know joy.
I share my stories in order to educate the wandering minds of the people who don't know any better. There are people out there right now that think I'm crazy. That it's all in my head. And all through my mother's suffering thought she was crazy as well. Well it's not all in my head. It's real! And I truly feel for everyone out there that is suffering from this insufferable disease. But it's a great comfort to know that we're NOT ALONE. There is always someone who is fighting right by our side even through our worst battles. Lyme is a real thing that steals people's quality of life everyday, even as we speak. But we can stand by each other as a source of support and hope. I truly have hope for healing. Just because torment and despair stares you in the face and comes knocking at your door, does not mean that you have to let it in. Here's to hope for healing, and hope for a bright future, even in the midst of suffering. I used to think that I was a princess, and one day I would live in a castle. And somewhere in time my Prince Charming would come and rescue me from the easily recognizable villain. I used to think that life could be a fairy tale if you so desired it to be. I was wrong. I used to think that makeup made me pretty... That no matter how many flaws I had, I could disguise them and nobody would know. I used to think that the drab and dull face I saw in the mirror every morning was exactly what other people saw as well. I used to think that physical display is what made you beautiful. I used to think I was ugly. I was wrong. I used to think that I would marry my first love. I used to think that when a guy told me he loved me he actually meant it, and when the words slipped from his prevaricating lips, it meant forever. I used to think that no person could ever have a heart cold enough to hurt me. I also thought that love was simply an intense emotion of sorts. I used to think I knew what love was. I didn't. I was wrong. I used to think that everything, at the core of its source, was full of goodness. I used to think that words were always pure and truthful, no matter who they came from. I used to think that if someone said that I was worthless, than it must be true. I used to let people tell me what I think. I used to believe that what I thought was invalid. I was wrong. I used to think that emotional pain was worse than physical pain. I used to think that illness was something that only happened to "other people." I believed that my blissful life could not possibly be spun so quickly that it hurt. I used to think I'd always have my loved ones by my side, and that luxury could not possibly be turned around so quickly. I used to think that I had to do things all by myself. And when things got hard, I simply had to keep my feet planted on the ground and keep going even if that meant I was going all alone. I used to think that asking for help was a sign of weakness. I was wrong. It's incredible how life changes you. How it crushes your innocence, devours your hope, and simultaneously brings out your inner beauty and lets your strength bloom. The hardest things in life bring you to true discovery of oneself. I've come to know that life isn't always what I thought it was, but it's still what I make of it. I've come to know that I'm not a princess, but something much more than that. I've come to know that just because I don't live in a castle, doesn't mean I'm not royalty in the sight of God. I've come to know that Prince Charming isn't so easy to find, and that some of those who claim to be princely are the villain in disguise. I've come to know that life is not a fairytale, but an incredible journey that gives the phrase, "Happily Ever After" a much deeper meaning than we as human beings can even comprehend. I've come to know that makeup is not what makes a girl pretty. It simply enhances the natural beauty that takes place underneath it all. But real beauty, true beauty, that's something that comes from under your skin. Something located in your heart. Just because I see a drab, sick, and exhausted face in the mirror some mornings, does not define who I am as a person, or my level of beauty on the inside. I'm not ugly just because somebody says I am. My scars and flaws do not define me. How you look on the outside does not define who you are on the inside and what a mirror tells you is the least of truths. I've come to know that marrying my first love would be the worst decision I could ever make. I've come to know that true love is so much more than just an inner stirring of the heart. I've come to know that people lie and that true love is so much more than just words. I believe that we as human beings cannot fully comprehend the depth and extent of true love, but that we are blessed to experience a piece of it in this life. I've come to know that not everything in life is good just because someone says it is. I've come to know absolute truth is a real thing, established by God. I've come to have a mind of my own, and I believe that standing for truth is of utmost importance in life. I've come to know that I'm not worthless just because somebody states that I am, and in God's eyes I have a worth far above the price of rubies, as does all of God's children. I've come to know that pain comes in all forms, and that physical pain is incredibly excruciating as is emotion pain. I've come to know that illness isn't just something that happens in other countries, or to "other people," but it's something that can take place in the walls of my own home, my neighbor's home, or even within my own body. Illness is astonishingly real all around us, and when it steals your quality of life from you or a person you love, it's incredibly tragic. But even with all of that said, it's okay. It's okay to feel pain. You are never alone, and asking for help is not a sign of weakness. God and our Savior, Jesus Christ, know exactly what you're going through and leaning on Him is what will bring you to your highest degree of strength and happiness even through your hardest times. Life is an incredible journey. A journey of hardship, trials, laughter, love, joy, and endless growth and learning. I haven't learned all that there is to learn yet, but I find it incredibly crazy how much I've grown and changed over the years. I went from aimlessly wandering, to having a desire to put the most important things first in my life, because you never know when those things will be gone. Having a chronic illness, or watching someone you're close to go through that level of pain and suffering, is a rare and beautiful experience that leads to incredible growth of character. It takes a lot of faith and hope, something that I refuse to lose as I go through life. Life's a journey. Yes, it's painful. And yes, it's a struggle. But there is so much to learn in this beautiful journey and learning is the start of a beautiful life.
I feel like I'm running an eternal marathon against life. I run in one direction, as my dreams continually whisk further from my aching and overexerted body. How do you follow your dreams when your body is constantly fighting against everything you ever wanted? I feel as though all odds are against me and I'm ready to collapse in a defeated heap.
A herxheimer reaction is the immune system's reaction to toxins and bacteria being killed within the body. It's usually the reaction to a Lyme patient's treatment. Lyme doctors and patients usually refer to herxheimer reactions as "herxing." There were many days and nights that I watched my mom suffer through herxing as I silently suffered with her as an emotional reaction to that heartbreaking image. Now as I experience it myself, I realize how miserable life can really be. When I was little I would come home crying with a scraped knee, and as mom provided adequate comfort and healing my tears would slowly fade away, along with the pain that enveloped my knee. Oh how I wish life was that easy now. Along with extreme anxiety comes the feeling of abandonment, heartbreak, and discouragement. As the tears come, they don't fade so easy. Neither does the pain that is reminiscent of a knife gouging out my heart. At times I feel as if I've fallen in a deep hole of total darkness, and there is no way out. There's times when I'm stuck in utter despondency and I feel my heart being crushed under the pressure of reminders that I'm sick, useless, and undesirable. Severe anxiety isn't something to take lightly. Not when utter despair surrounds the very soul that you base your entire existence around. Herxing doesn't just come in physical pain. Although, that's also a major part of it. A herx for me is like a knife to the heart along with all of the physical pain that comes with it. Dizziness, nausea, headaches, weakness, trembling, chills... I'm feel like I'm losing my mind at times. As if it's slowly fading along with my body. I'm exhausted, and simply tired of being tired. After all those years of watching my mother suffer and not knowing to the full extent what she was going through, I agonize with her now because I'm literally feeling her pain. My mother is so graceful and eloquent in her method of suffering, and this disease has truly made her stronger and gloriously beautiful. I want to fight this thing. I want to fight until my fighting capacity is weakened to almost nothing. I want to fight until the light of healing pierces through me. I want to come out alive and strong, just like my mother. I truly believe that I can beat this, and be completely healed with proper patience, long suffering, and enduring to the end. As I once lay awake in the middle of the night I thought to myself, "Through this trial I will cleave to my Savior so hard that no intangible substance, no person, and no illness can cut me down. And through Him, my burdens will be lifted, peace will flood my soul, and I will be healed." I'll never forget that spiritual confirmation that all will be okay in the end. Just because things are bad now, does not mean that they will be for forever. And even through my darkest of times I still believe that life is beautiful. I still believe that beauty and light can be found in every minescule crevice that life has to offer. There is light everywhere, it just has to be seen. Life is beautiful, and so is suffering. There's a special kind of heartbreak that comes from having to say goodbye to people that I have come to know and love. It's the kind of heartbreak that accompanies the sense of failure and defeat that festers inside my heart as I turn the page of the story of life and move forward into a new chapter. I recently experienced all these feelings as I drove out of my college town and back to my home town where I can heal from the afflictions that have been burdening my body and soul since I began my journey into the college world, and inattentively before that.
I never asked for this. I never asked for Lyme disease. I never asked for long painful nights, decreasing grade percentages, extreme exhaustion, and my loss of ability to think straight or focus. I never asked to leave all the people that I came close to. I never wanted to be a quitter. I'm only a freshman in college and I've already failed at surviving my first semester. My hair is thinning out, my skin is breaking out, my muscles ache, my brain is exhausted, my heart is breaking, I feel like my body is literally deteriorating beneath my skin, and my emotions are screaming for help inside me. There's something extremely devastating about having to put all of my dreams on hold for an illness. It's days like today where I wish I could just crawl into my cozy bed and disappear from this cruel sick world. These particular thoughts cross my mind almost everyday. I am determined to fight long and hard until they are cleansed from my heart and mind just as the bacteria that is eating away at me will be cleansed from my body. I'm not a failure. I'm not a quitter. There are much worse things than Lyme disease in this world. I truly believe, even on my worst days, that this disease is a blessing in disguise even if I don't quite understand why or how. Right now I'm discouraged and scared. My treatment is about to be increased and with that comes increased herxheimer reactions, which means increased fatigue, pain, anxiety, and depression. I'm not excited for the incredible journey ahead of me, but I'm ready to fight long and hard. Lyme disease will not crush me. I refuse to let it crush me. I find great comfort in knowing that God is with me through this journey, just as He is with everyone in the world that is currently suffering from the recent horrific current events that have taken place over the past week or so. My faith is strong, my hope is never unending, my prayers are always continuing. God hears and knows our cries and He can and will give us peace. I hope that through each of our individual trials and afflictions we can all remember Him in these increasingly hard times. Peace will come. Rest is just around the corner. God bless. "Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light." -Matthew 11:28-30 It was a bitter cold December night. My eyes flickered open at the sounds of anguish and pain that I was so used to hearing in the middle of the night. I caught a sharp sliver of the moon out of the corner of my eyes. It pierced through one of my windows and gleamed down on my face as if it was mocking me. My heart felt heavy as I rolled over and pulled my blankets closer to my body, asking an inanimate object to protect me and take my fears away. I forced my eyes closed and wished I could do the same with my ears as the insufferable lamentation rang through my head and filled my aching soul. I eventually lulled myself back into an unsettling sleep. Silence. Sweet silence. Sweet bliss. I woke to the screams. The screams of my mother laying helplessly on the floor, going into a seizure and for a small moment in time losing her ability to move, speak, or feel. The screams pierced through the bitter cold air and traveled straight to my heart where it stuck like a dagger. Without hesitation I flung my blankets off and pushed my pillows out of the way, numbing myself to the bitter cold air that had been absent in my cozy cocoon. Following the sound of the screams, I ran to my mothers side on the living room floor. The darkness hid the shadows of her pained face. She was in so much pain at that point that she was losing her ability to function at all and I could almost physically see the small amount of light that was left in her fading away to nothing. My dad knelt by her side with his hand in hers the entire time. His drained expression silently and desperately cried for help of any kind at that point. I fell down on my knees next to my mothers head. I thought this was it. I thought she was dying. I thought this was my last moment that I would ever get with her, and all I could think was "Dear God! HELP US!!" At that point we knew that prayer was the only thing that we could do. I frantically fiddled with my phone to call for help as Dad stopped me, knowing that they would do absolutely nothing for us. Knowing that it would be another night of being told that she was crazy and there was nothing they could do for her. With all hope lost, tears filled my eyes and the feeling of uselessness flooded my soul. I've recently been reflecting on that experience that doesn't feel like it was all that long ago. I had no idea why our family was suffering so much and I always wondered, "Why us? My me?" It wasn't until months later that we found out that the source of Mom's suffering was Lyme Disease. And not until many months later did we find a treatment option that actually worked. I remember thinking that night would be the last night ever spent with my mother. I remember the fear that pierced through my heart and into my aching soul as I sat next to my dying mother on my living room floor. At that point I thought that healing was impossible, and I thought that life wasn't really worth living. I never thought I'd be grateful for an experience as horrific as what my family suffered that cold December night.
I remember about five months ago, I lay folded up in excruciating pain in the very same spot that my mom had suffered so many nights before. I remember wanting to scream my pain away, and feeling as if I couldn't breathe because it pierced through my stomach so hard like a knife mocking my very existence. It was then that it hit me that I was suffering a very minuscule piece of what my mother had to go through so long ago. And in some special way, I felt connected with her. I gained an understanding and a special kind of compassion that I didn't have before. It's not craziness. It's pain. Horrific, unbearable, excruciating pain. I wasn't suffering even half of what my mom suffered through so many days before, but I was feeling for her. And my love for my mother grew ten times more than it already was. Back in December I didn't realize why I had to watch mom suffer. I didn't understand why this trial was being thrust upon my mother, and my family. Now, I feel like I understand a little bit better. If my mom hadn't gone through that, we never would have found a treatment option. I'd be sick right now and we wouldn't know why. If I hadn't gone through that I wouldn't have learned the sweet lesson of compassion. I wouldn't be who I am today for so many reasons even beyond that. I'll never forget the screams that woke my restless mind that night. And with that, I'll never forget the love that I have for my mother. It's a blessing she's alive today. I know that, and I hope that through Chronic Lyme I can learn to help others and have the opportunity to lift others burdens as they may be going through similar trials. God works in mysterious ways. Ways that I still don't completely understand. But I can honestly say that there is a reason why we suffer. I wouldn't be who I am today without my suffering. I'll never forget the screams, but I'll also never forget my faith that powers me through my most unbearable times. It recently occurred to me how much I didn't appreciate the little comforts in life until I lost those comforts. I remember back to a time when my mom was in the most dreadful stage of her journey through Lyme. My mom and I sat in the parking lot of Costco while my dad was inside buying groceries. I remember the moaning and groaning that fell out of my mother's mouth as we sat in that car. Back then I wanted to cry for my mother everyday. My strong, beautiful, incredible mother whose life had literally been diminished to nothing. Where common activities such as going to the store were a rare instance in her life. I wanted to do something for her. I wanted to take her pain away from her. Impossible as that was at the time I tried to keep her spirits up through talking to her and keeping her laughing. Hearing Mom laugh back then was almost like partaking of a breath of fresh air. As we sat in the car that day I remember pulling out a small little pad of paper as I told her that she should make a list of things that made her happy in order to increase her spirits. After promptly writing my dad's name and my own name at the top of that list I asked her to think of other things. The conversation went absolutely no where from there. She sat there agonizing her pain level and I sat there feeling completely useless. I remember going home that day and writing a list of things that made me happy. I remember that with tears in my eyes, I promptly wrote, "Mom getting better" as number one on that list. It's really occurred to me in the past month how much I need to appreciate the little things in life. About a month ago I discovered that I had Chronic Lyme. And two weeks ago I began my treatment. It's been a really rough journey. My diet has been diminished to almost nothing. No more chocolate... No more comfort food... No more going out with friends after study sessions... No more dates that involve food. No more anything that tastes good. Not to mention, the things that I do have to eat I detest. Drinking straight vinegar and garlic in order to kill the bacteria that's eating away at my body is a far from pleasant experience. Sleeping has been a wide awakening (literally). In order for my treatment to work properly I have to sleep with oxygen every night. Yes, that means one of those scary looking machines that disturbs the peace. And those long never ending tubes that I can only hope I don't accidentally strangle myself with while I'm sleeping. Not to mention that I have these two awkward tubes shoved up my nose with the oxygen that burns all the way through my sinuses. It's ironic how oxygen is supposed to help you breathe but when you're on the machine in the middle of the night it feels more like it's trying to murder you in your sleep. It hit me as a shock to find out that having random shooting pains that go up through my stomach and into my spine are not normal. Feeling light headed as a result of standing up is not normal. Having a heart rate in the high nineties all the time is not normal. Being exhausted and ready to crawl back into bed by the time noon rolls around is not normal. Feeling like I'm losing my mind because my body won't keep up with me is not normal. Now, I tell you these things not because I want you to feel sorry for me. Not because I want a pity party, and not because I want attention, but because these things are REAL THINGS. It hurts! It's exhausting! It's uncomfortable! It's real. And it's okay. God didn't put us on this earth so we could be comfortable. We were put on this earth to struggle. To experience pain. To feel things even when they're unpleasant. It is through uncomfortable experiences that we learn and grow the most. Back then, my mom didn't know what brought her joy, but as I've watched her grow and heal, she appreciates things so much more now. As do I. Mom's eyes light up at the sight of a beautiful sunset, and she gets excited simply by spotting a dear in a near by meadow. Hearing her laugh over some dumb joke that my dad told, or hearing her comment on how pretty the changed autumn leaves are is incredible. All of those small little blessings bring her joy. Mom discovered how to find joy in the small stuff, because at one point, she lost the small stuff. And at times, the small stuff is all she had. It's amazing how sometimes the small stuff is transformed into incredible miracles. For me, I appreciate any moment of sleep I get that I don't have to have my oxygen impaling my nose. I appreciate when I get to school on time even though it seemed pretty impossible because I woke up from my sleepless night incredibly late. I appreciate when a friend asks me how I'm doing. I appreciate a short little phone call or text from a friend or family member. I appreciate every beauty in nature that crosses my path. It's strange to me how people are so oblivious to things like beautiful rainbows, the flap of a butterfly's wings, the beautiful changing fall colors, or gorgeous little rain showers. Those things hold so much depth, beauty, and joy in them. They're a piece of beauty that God so obviously bestows upon us on a regular basis. God's small little blessings are in fact incredible miracles! Yes, I have Lyme, but it's through the little things that I come to find joy even in my time of hardship. By all means, Lyme Disease does not make life easy, but it sure makes small things beautiful. |
Introducing:
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