I think this will be my hardest post yet: My most honest, most vulnerable and most genuine. The whole point of this blog is to see the beauty in the breakdown and advocate for not only those with IBD but anyone carrying an extra weight. A heavy heart. Extra baggage.
But if I also stay true to my word that it’s about openness and exposure then I must strip down the positivity for a second and express the sadness I feel.
I often cry. Not to anyone because as soon as I breakdown I see the eyes of my people well up. So I make shitty jokes and poke fun at the fact that this is a messy disease and say things like “well today was crappy.” But I often cry when I’m alone as I struggle with magnitude of how overwhelming this year has been. Even when I thought I was in the clear I still felt sad.
Now you can list all the positives and I could probably rhyme them off faster than you about how in the end it will be okay, and how much better I’m going to feel and blah blah blah. But the fact is that I’m sad. And I’m angry. Sad and angry that this happened to me.
I’m sad that after a year of treatment after treatment, and appointment after appointment, and hospital admission after admission, all in an effort to avoid surgery, it came down to surgery. Everything that I worked so hard to avoid all year was inevitable. I’m sad that although I know it was the right decision it still feels like I gave up.
I’m sad that I’ve had to miss out on things because I was too tired or had a tummy ache. The Junos, dinner plans, birthdays, concerts, work, all were forgotten because I was busy lying in my bed.
I’m sad about how low my confidence has gone. For someone who used to shine and be up for anything to now someone who wants to hide under the covers and skip the weekends. I don’t want to meet new people or go to new places because I have no hair and chubby cheeks and now a bag of shit on my stomach.
I’m sad because the people around me are sad. And this sounds like such a selfish thing to be upset about because in reality I’m actually quite fortunate to have so many people that care. But I see my people down because I’m down. Which kills me.
And the biggest thing is that I’m sad my life has been put on hold. This whole flare up started when I decided to make a change in my life. I wasn’t happy with what I was doing on a day to day so I decided to take control, enroll in some new courses, take on a new position at work and start fresh. I had new goals, new ambitions. Big dreams. And all of that was wiped away for over a year. I had to go on multiple leaves of absence from work, drop all my courses and miss out on some big opportunities. For someone with such ambition, sitting at home staring at the TV is driving me nuts.
But that’s part of the process. I can recognize my emotion and my anger and hopefully use this blog as an outlet to change that sadness into awareness. The process is reflective and as a coping mechanism I can acknowledge that this year has been traumatic but I’m moving in the right direction.
And there’s my sob story. Let’s move on from that now. THE END