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falling down a rabbit hole

By: Fela M'tima

May-1-17

 
 

Here I am, just like Alice falling down the rabbit hole. I don't see old furniture, grandfather clocks, or even a fucking rabbit. I am here, free falling into an abyss filled with Fentanyl patches, Vicodin, and my own fears disguised as monsters faces. I don't know what is up, what is down, or when I'm due for my next dose of meds.

All I can hope for is when I land, it will be into a hospital bed being wheeled into an OR. (Please and thank you.)

Times like these you really need to give yourself a pep talk, or so I think when everything else has failed me. Times like these when you're calculating your emotional and physical survival rate but you struggle with even that, and realize there isn't much that can go right. I can't blame this endo flare on mercury being in retrograde anymore. Because sadly, the retrograde will end, and here I'll still be, rotting away. All I can blame my flares on these days is the sick and twisted disease itself. How it's just eating away my insides and making home on organs where it doesn't belong. 

Back to my non existent pep talks, though. It's hard when you're past the, "You can do this. You are strong. You've been through worse." And you know you're past those words when your every day life is worse than that one traumatic ER visit or surgery complication. When each day has become an emergency. I guess what I really mean, is it's time to get a life alert. Kidding. But not really, those things could come really handy when my diaphragm decides to give out (or give up, I mean I'd be pissed if endo was eating me too).

When pep talks don't work like they used to, and your body is way past being your friend, how do we push ourselves through each day? I don't actually know and maybe part of me was hoping I'd be able to answer once I wrote it down. Maybe one day I will have the answers. My writing would be less of a bummer and maybe actually be hopeful. For now, I'm best as I am. Depressed AF. 

But listen, it's okay to be depressed and not have answers. How would we know what pain-free felt like if we never felt the worst pain of our lives? How would we know we had the best sex of our lives if we didn't know what the worst was (Thank you, Adenomyosis). How would you know your mental health is doing good, if you didn't spend a year suicidal because of Chronic Illnesses? You can't have the sour without the sweet. (yes, another movie quote thank you very much). Maybe our pep talks just need to simply be reminders to ourselves. 

Here are mine to you who are reading,
 
 Everything is horrible right now, but one day, maybe not even soon, it won't be.

 
Your pain is unbearable. But after enough medication, you will at least be able to find comfort. (especially after a few bowl hits too)
 
 
This isn't fucking fair. This isn't fucking fair. This isn't fucking fair.


 Your hormones are making you homicidal and it's okay to keep crying.


You might feel like you won't make it till tomorrow, but read this over and over: YOU. FUCKING. WILL.


I'm no healing endo guru. I do know that reading those things made me feel better. A lot better then telling myself how "strong" I am because you know what? I won't always be strong. Let's embrace that we might actually barely survive some days. That we can get extremely depressed and need the comfort of another human being even though our hormones are telling us to find the closest object and throw it at them. We are all small and fragile sometimes. We are all falling down rabbit holes. We all need pep talks and reminders. We're all mad here. We all need something to push us to the next step, whether it's surgery, a new medication, or new hormone. Let's all keep pushing each other and meet each other on the other side.

I'll be there with pizza.