The Art of Two Nikkis

       I don't write these entries for you, I write them for myself. The blessing and also the curse with being a writer is that eventually things have to come out. I have never been one to keep a journal.  The desire to express myself through common dialogue never appealed to me. Reliving my day chronologically from one page to the next was never my thing. I created other characters and other scenarios to live out what I was feeling that day or that week.  I have and always will be the type of person to use creative flair when I express my emotions through pen to paper.  I suppose the main reason is because that's just how I'm wired.  I'm meant to use allegories and complex characters to take people on a journey of understanding myself or one of self discovery.  I also hide behind my writing.  If I am not using words like "I", "me", and "mine" then I'm able to express myself without having to truly own up to how I feel.  It's like talking with a mask on.  I can say exactly what I want to say without anyone ever seeing my lips move.

      So, I am going to try a new approach.  I'm going to be completely and totally honest.  Again, this is for my own peace of mind.  I'm only sharing it publicly because I believe that there is always a chance that someone out there needs to hear what I have to say.  If I don't share then I risk them not being able to relate and move forward in their own life. If I share my writing and nobody benefits at all, then I can still take a deep breath and know that I have been honest with myself. 

     I have been sick for almost three years. It has been a very hard and complicated road.  It has taken a toll on me to say the least.  I am still going through testing to figure out what is going on with my body. If any of you reading this has a chronic or unexplained illness you will understand what I mean when I say that there is a grieving process in being ill.  It really is like you lose yourself, or at least you spend a lot of time feeling that way. There is denial- denying that anything is wrong and pushing your body to do far more than it is capable of.  Then, you spend the next day in bed denying that you did too much the day before.  There is anger- boy, is there anger!  You become angry at doctors for not figuring it out fast enough.  You become angry at yourself for not being healthy.  Anger with your loved ones sets in because no matter how often and how much you explain what's going on they still can't and never will fully understand.  Depression comes along and makes the denial and anger even more bitter.  Your hopes spike during the "good days" when your body feels fairly normal.  Then, when you wake up unable to think straight or get out of bed depression snuggles up next to you like a warm itchy blanket.

      On this journey, the past year has most defiantly been the hardest.  Matt and I have been on a crazy roller coaster ride- going from one doctor to the next, praying to God begging him for help and at the same time wondering if he even hears us, and waiting for something- anything to come up in blood tests. We are happy in Virginia and this move was much needed for the both of us.  We have been here since August and today I realized that everything has changed except for my heatlh.  I have been running non-stop doing things to the house we live in. We've painted, decorated, unpacked, and all that goes with moving into a new place. This afternoon, I realized how much my body has been neglected over the past couple of months.  I can't afford to busy myself that much.  I was naive I guess in thinking that a new move meant a "new" me. What does that even mean? A new me?

      I came to the conclusion today that I think of myself in two very different ways. There is the "Old Nikki"- she is the outgoing, confident, smart, approachable, God-loving, people-loving, fun-loving, pretty girl.  That is me before I became sick.  I cried for so long today because I was looking at old profile pictures on Facebook and I ran across one of Matt and me.  The photo was taken before I got sick.  We were in Virginia Beach for his sister's wedding.  We spent all morning walking around the Portsmouth area- chasing after each other, drinking coffee, and enjoying the hot July day. That was such a great day.  I can't remember the last time that Matt and I were able to spend an entire day out and about without me getting exhausted and us having to go home.  If I am able to stay out then I usually have to sit down a lot or I get to where I can't focus on what's going on. 

     Then, there is "Now Nikki"- she is exhausted, low, hesitant, God-resistant, people-resistant, introverted, broken, unable and ugly girl.  I came across another picture of my friend Courtney and me.  Courtney flew stand by from Seattle to Boston.  She visited Matt and I when we lived in Concord last summer.  It just so happened that when she visited that I was at my worst physically.  I was so humiliated that my health was the reason that we weren't able to do a lot when she was there.  I wasn't even well enough to sit and have a good conversation.  I just sat passively as she and Matt talked most of the time. There are pictures that remind me that I wasn't well when they were taken.  A lot of it has to do with my physical appearance- pale, exhausted, and feeble looking.  Most photos don't show how I felt when it was taken, but I know the truth.

     Comparison of "Old" and "Now" doesn't make sense to most people. It's an art- lying to yourself saying that an old or new you was better than how you are now.  It's cruel.  This entire entry sounds like a pitiful attempt to seek attention, but I am only being brutally honest with myself.  It sure has taken me long enough.