10 years

Today marks ten years since my ski accident. For ten years now, my body and my health have made all the decisions for me. For ten years I’ve been fighting my body. My birthday is coming up in a week and if you remember last year’s, I was hooked up to my electrode machine, and was in too much pain to have cake. Now, just when I though that maybe it would start getting easier, when I thought I deserved a break from the pain, my body said no.

Four days ago, my newest doctor diagnosed me with Chronic Lyme Disease. First reactions: I’m fucking angry, I’m sad and I’m tired. I’m so tired of not being able to live my life. I’m fucking tired of being in pain. I’m tired of hiding my health from people around me, so that I don’t depress them. I feel like it’s not what they’ve signed up for. I’m starting to wonder if it’s even worth continuing to make new friends if I can’t be honest with them. Maybe it’s me, and I’m putting this assumption on them, but I don’t feel like they’d be able to continue working me into their lives, if they knew it all. The doctor said I have to go through three months of intensive treatment for which I need to “allow myself to be sick and taken care of”, apparently my “pain will get worst”, and “it will get worst before it gets better”. I’m back to where I was after highschool and college, while my friends go on and start their lives, I go back into treatment, isolating myself from my peers. What really threw me over the edge was when she said “you need to be in a supportive, nurturing environment.” My support system can no longer support me, they are exhausted, they’re also tired from the last ten years! 

You all know, I can fake it for a very long time, I can slap a smile on and you’d never know that I feel like I’m dying. But this week, I didn’t have the energy to fake it, I had no emotional battery left to smile for you, to say that “I’m fine”, I didn’t have the willingness to lie to your face. I turned my phone off, and broke down. I put on my ski gear, kept the goggles down and cried as I skied. That’s what I do when I can’t bring myself to lie anymore, when I have no one around I can be honest and raw with, I pretend no one exists and I cry it out. Then I gather myself, charge up the battery and slap that fucking smile on. 

I’m angry that I keep getting given more pain. I’m angry at creator for continuing to test my limits. Yes, do people have it worst, absolutely, but they shouldn’t be dealt so much either. 

I had plans, I had trips planned, I had planned for a life, but I guess I’ll just get back on the merry-go-round. 

Will this break me? No. 

Will this kill me? Probably not.

Do I want to deal with it? No.

Do I have a choice? No. 

Here we fucking go!