The rapid fluctuation of human emotion is mind boggling.
I know that sounds like a weird sentence and a very random way to start a blog post but stay with me. Be patient and I hope this eventually makes sense.
I don’t know where I’m going with this blog post. I hope it ends up bringing some piece of mind to at least one of you and myself. After all, my posts are typically written as a train of thought as the mood strikes me or with the sole intent of helping one person feel comfort, support, or happiness. Why not combine the two this time?
Anyway, back to my point.
Earlier today, I came home after work with five empty boxes from the liquor store (and a bottle of wine because 1. I felt bad asking for free boxes without buying something and 2. because it was a long day #TreatYoSelf). I walked into my apartment feeling accomplished. I get to move into a better, cleaner apartment in 6 days and I can finally start packing. Life is good.
But emotions are fickle.
A couple hours later, I had packed a few small boxes and organized some piles before getting over-whelmed. You see, I had to stop taking my current medication yesterday because it was breaking up my red blood cells and making me anemic. I have HSP-Vasculitis. Currently, I have to be on medication in order to keep my body from attacking itself. But I can’t take my medication because it’s also hurting me. So, this week I really can’t stress because I am at a greater risk of relapsing (something that has been happening on a semi-regular basis recently).
Of course, this happens on the week that I’m moving – aka a stressful week.
Still, I felt accomplished that I had at least started packing, accepted my limitations, and took a break. Plus, this seemed like the perfect opportunity to check my email and see if there was any news from my doctor.
Now, before I go on, I want to explain that my doctor is amazing. She has helped me through the worst time of my life and was the only doctor to seriously pursue my condition. She stopped everything to give me an appointment on her lunch break after seeing me suffering across the room in choir. While everyone else wanted to put me on chemotherapy drugs, she persisted to find me other medications. She is a fantastic doctor and friend. None of what I say next is in any way a negative statement toward her – these are purely my frustrations against medicine in general.
Okay, moving on.
In my inbox, I found a message reminding me that my current medication was causing me to become anemic so I was told to start a new drug. The prescription was already called in. Of course, because of my extensive knowledge of prescription medication from the TV show House, I decided to do some research. I’ve learned that anything taken for autoimmune disease has a lot of side effects and it’s good to know what you are going up against. Well, this one causes anemia and cancer…Yes, everything causes cancer these days – but reading these side effects caused me to breakdown. I mean I was sobbing (and I also learned my mascara is not waterproof – seriously, I looked scary).
Medications don’t scare me. Okay, maybe they do a little bit. But I’m used to taking things that can cause weird and scary side effects. What made me break down was the frustration that I have to risk harming my body in order to make it better. I mean, I had to stop one medication because it was making me anemic and the solution is to take another with a side effect of anemia and cancer??
How does that make any sense?!
Why do I have to put chemicals in my body in order to keep it from killing itself? I would rather eat beets (I hate beets by the way) every meal for the rest of my life than take some of these medications. I absolutely hated how I felt when I was taking Prednisone and I can’t imagine ever taking it again regularly.
I just don’t understand why I have to hurt my body in order to heal it. I cried for almost an hour about this. I’m even tearing up right now. I don’t know how I have any tears left!
As I’m sitting here typing, I’m looking at the partially packed boxes that surround me. What once gave me joy, excitement, and a sense of accomplishment now gives me dread and sadness. Just a few hours ago, I looked at these boxes and saw the amazing possibilities that could come from this new apartment.
Now, my first thought is
“How did my life become this mess?”
I broke my lease six months early, am moving when I can’t lift anything heavier than 20 pounds (if that), signed another lease meaning I’m not leaving Oklahoma anytime soon, and I’m still sick. I even had a guy un-match with me on Bumble the other day after I slipped up and mentioned that I can’t lift weights at the gym due to a previous health condition. I didn’t even explicitly mention vasculitis and he ran away! I got ghosted because I have an autoimmune disease!! And this wasn’t the first time! What is wrong with people? Am I going to be single forever because I was seriously ill last year?
Sharing this story with you all is hard for me. I’m not even sure if I’ll publish it or not.
[Edit: clearly, I decided to post this.]
I don’t like showing people when I’m hurting or upset. It’s a pride thing – I don’t want anyone to worry about me.
But this time I feel different.
I’m writing this to show you all that I am human. I do get upset. I cry. I scream. I throw pity parties.
But, in the end, I brush myself off and make myself find the positivity in the situation.
I get upset. I cry. I scream. I throw pity parties. But, in the end, I brush myself off and I make myself find the positivity in the situation.
Reading this, you can’t tell, but after that last sentence I took a little break. I closed my eyes, took some deep breaths, and made myself look at the boxes again.
I made myself remember why I was excited a few hours ago – to picture my future possibilities – to recall all the things that I have accomplished in the past year since being diagnosed with HSP.
I have family and friends who support me from all over the country. I have a job with coworkers I admire. I have music and performing opportunities with friends that I adore. I have Glitter & Grandeur and all of you (my readers) who I love dearly.
In my new apartment, I’ll be able to sip wine and de-stress on the balcony. I can take baths again and relax. I won’t have to smell my water before using it to make sure it’s safe. There won’t be mold under the kitchen sink, or a toilet that flushes itself in the middle of the night. Maybe the move will help me heal.
And maybe it won’t.
Maybe I do have a long journey ahead of me with Vasculitis.
But at least I’m alive.
In the grand scheme of things, my problems are small. Things could be a lot worse and I’m thankful every day that I have this life (even with vasculitis).
I’ve been very blessed to have a strong support system behind me – friends who I can send Snapchats of mascara running down my face to and family 17 hours away who answers my texts and calms me down late at night.
My boxes are half full – not half empty.
Life may seem downright shitty sometimes (pardon my French) but there is always something positive to be found in the situation. I hope each of you knows that you can message me anytime for help finding that positivity. I don’t want any of you ever feeling alone when it feels like the world is pushing you down.
Life isn\’t fair, my loves – but as long as you get back up, roll with the punches, and push forward with positivity, you will be just fine