For the past three years I have been filled with a type of determination and strong will that I had never experienced before. For three years I have prayed, cried and bargained with God. I told Matt on many occasions with clenched fists and tear stained cheeks, "If I only knew what was going on with my body then I would be happy." I just wanted an answer.
I finally got my diagnosis about a week ago and with it came an overwhelming sense of joy. I walked confidently out to my car and cried happy tears. It had been a long three years and with them had come many worrying visits to the ER and an indescribable depression. As I sat in my car and the realization of a diagnosis set in I felt completed in a sense.
Last night, I bought a book on Sjogren's so that I could educate myself more on the disease and learn how to better care for myself. I went through the first chapter in a flash and felt like I had the upper hand on my body for once. Tonight, I reached for the same book and along with it I picked up the beginning of the grieving process. I had said all of those times that I would be content if I just had an answer. Now, I realize that I am going to be living with this for the rest of my life. My body will always be unpredictable and working against me. Of course I always have the reaction of saying, "Well, other people have it so much worse than I do." Yeah, that is true and always will be true no matter what I am facing at the time. I minimize what I go through and put other people's situations up on a pedestal of 'desperate need'. I can't help but think that even God himself doesn't compare our situations from lesser to greater importance. I have often told people in need of compassion "Well, there are people out there that have it worse than you do." The first person to say that probably meant it for good, but how inconsiderate is that?!
What I am saying is that I need to go through a grieving process for this. Yeah, it isn't going to limit me to a wheelchair or make me lose my eyesight. It is just as debilitating to me, though, in the sense that I will live with this forever. I don't expect people to understand what I am going through and I don't need to validate with anyone how serious this disease is to me. I just need to give myself permission to loosen the control I have so desperately tried to maintain.
If any of you have stayed with Matt and me over the past three years you have seen me in my "Happy Hostess" hat. I smile and stay awake hours past my body's resignation time and I keep busy doing everything I can to look like I am healthy. Only recently did I gain enough courage to say to an out-of-town guest, "I'm tired and I nee to lie down." The truth is a hard thing to hide- even with busyness and good intentions. Lately, work has been really hard for me and I've contemplated several times just throwing in the towel. It has been hard for me to get out of bed and concentrate once I get there. I don't know how much longer I will be able to work and that causes bitterness to rise up in me like nothing else! I suppose I bought the book as my "Handbook to Faking It." I thought if I could read the right things to eat, the exercises to do and the routine to sync myself to that I would somehow manage to win at this or win people over. As I read I realized that there aren't many things for me to do that I don't already do in caring for myself.
I am giving myself time to grieve for this because I need to.
Maybe there is something in your life that you need to grieve over. You just need to have a good nasty gut-wrenching cry. You need to lift up your hands and say, "Ok! I am hurting!" There is a God saying, "I am here."
No comments:
Post a Comment