I sat in front of my computer last night and tried to come up with something to share with you this week. I ended up sitting with my laptop open for a couple of hours, but nothing seemed right.
I’ve been uninspired, partially broken by that which we call endo.
It has been a rough cycle and a busy month where I’ve overextended my energy with multiple social gatherings, ending with a magnificent wedding last weekend, where I got to stand as a bridesmaid beside one of my long time friends.
Once I stepped out of my bubble back out into the world, I was quickly reminded how hard it is to be an endo warrior, and how lonely it can be.
So… I don’t have new research to share or a yummy recipe, instead, a recollection from my heart that I hope you understand.
No one really sees me.
I’m standing in a crowded room, yet no one sees me. Really sees me. I plaster on a smile, even though my insides are burning.
I have daydreams of a warm bath and crawling under the covers. But I can’t, just yet.
I sit and listen quietly as they talk about their kids, mixed between coos of little babies and talk of pregnancy. I nod, even though I don’t relate.
There is this silent energy about me, unspoken infertility.
I swallow back emotions and manage to keep it together, even after touching a baby bump. She worries about having another, worried it will be too much.
Quietly, I’m wishing for just one.
Through my life I’ve struggled to fit in. I always wanted to blend. But now I feel like I stick out. I am different. I don’t understand the life with children and she doesn’t understand this life of pain.
The silent fatigue, the ache.
We gather to get ready at a very early hour. I didn’t want to complain so I pull myself up, even though my body craves sleep.
My body is sore from the rehearsal and dinner out the night before filled with beef, pork and french fries.
I arrive and try to fake it, but the fatigue is like a fog. Insomnia struck the night before – the bed, it killed my back. I work through the ache that runs from my back, hips, to my toes… and the pounding at my neck.
I take a look at the breakfast choices and am struck with realization – there is nothing endo friendly. And I didn’t come prepared. With the exception of the chocolate Kind bar in my bag. That will have to do.
I sip on some coffee, even though I know that this will do no good.
I brush off thoughts of poison and sit to have my hair and makeup done. I sit under the spray of toxins, and crafted smoky eyes. I used to do this all the time. I can handle a little.
Or so I think.
Signs of flow? Signs of stress.
I slip on my silver heels and move up the mountain. Soon my feet are screaming, then my back. I stand there strong in the sunshine and witness a beautiful ceremony of souls joining together on the edge of a spectacular view of the Rocky Mountains.
The party to follow is fabulous – the views, the air: divine. Once I slip into some flip flops I start to feel better.
Till a routine trip to the ladies room brings with it bright red blood. Oh no. A little early for this? I haven’t been tracking closely this month.
I go back to my seat, a little slower. The back of my mind toys with the doom… is this flow? If it is, I have nothing to protect my panties under this little purple dress.
Is the pain going to knock me over soon?
My lower back is aching and my signature right ache is present, crying loudly.
We stay till the end of the night and I step onward, ignoring the screams from my body, as my husband searches for food – difficult to find in our mountain spot – where things close down early.
This ends with a trip to the vending machine and a grumpy, hungry companion.
Then… I lost it.
We make it back to the hotel room. I find slight relief on the uncomfortable bed before getting up to step outside onto the balcony.
And I lost it. Tears pour out that make me shake.
I am exhausted. No one understands. Alone in the crowded room all night.
I cry for the ache in my body. That familiar ache. I can stand no more. The wells break.
I thought of you in that moment where the pain came flooding out. The frustration and animosity for this life with endo. For feeling so different from the rest.
I know that you understand. And for that I send gratitude to this world wide web that allows us to connect.
I am writing this today to you, my endo sister, as a reminder that you are not alone.
On the Positive Side?
I was able to come to a calm after the rain stopped pouring from my eyes and pulled in the magnificent sky, filled with bright stars.
At a higher elevation, I felt so much closer to the sky. I leaned out over the balcony and looked up at it all. I whispered a prayer for relief and peace enough to find sleep.
I found gratitude in that beautiful tug of nature, covered, surrounded by something more.
We are definitely not alone.
This is so beautifully written and I could feel all of those emotions coming through in my past experiences by reading it. It can feel so incredibly isolating when we can’t share our pain and no one can see it. I know for me, I would put on that brave face many many times and just push myself through.
Big hugs sweetheart. You are so not alone and know that I am here for you.
Thanks Mel. I figured I would write it all out instead of keeping it in, because it was really bothering me. Funny how it’s so much easier to connect virtually with ladies that understand. It’s when I step out and am reminded just how different I am. Most of the time I’m fine… but there are times when the frustration kicks in and I just want to feel “normal”. Sending you hugs back.
I am so grateful that I found this in my email today. This has been a week of crying and loud yells in my mind that no one understands. Thank you for writing this blog, it really encouraged me and I know I’m not alone but it seems that way when your in agonizing pain and no one understands. I recently had my third lap and they removed what they could but he found a tumor on my liver. Now I’m struggling with the endo pain and the doctor after doctor visit to find out about this tumor. Some day I don’t know if I can take much more but I keep pushing forward. I can relate to every word you wrote in your blog. I’m sorry you went through so much pain but I’m happy that you were able to push through and enjoy the wedding as best as possible. That shows courage and strength. I applaud you, well done and thank you for sharing with us. Your an inspiration to many, God bless.
I’m so sorry to hear this Stephanie. I can’t imagine what you’re going through right now. I hope that you find a good doctor to help you. I’m reading a great book by Dr. Bernie Siegel right now called Love, Medicine and Miracles: Lessons Learned about Self-Healing from a Surgeon’s Experience with Exceptional Patients. He works with cancer patients and I found his book to be really helpful. Sending you much love, light and healing. Thanks for reaching out.
Thank you so much for your compassion and love and support. I think the book you mentioned is worth looking into. Thank you for sharing that with me. Today was a 4am wake up call by pain and the common crying that goes along with it. Thankfully I’m living with my mom and she’s a nurse, so she managed to help me get the pain under control before she went to work. Thank God for good moms. I refuse to take pain meds because their just bandaids and it’s not a cure. I am very geared high to focusing on a natural approach this time. I want a good quality of life and not dreading a 3-4 stay in the bed once a month with tears and that alone feeling. I will check out this book and I have your book as well. I’m considering the health coaching =) I have a referral with a Dr who specializes in all natural treatment for endo. I’m going to look into that as well. I love your support and your drive for life. I love that you don’t give up and you give hope to others. You are an inspiration and I want to be another person who can help others, especially the younger girls who don’t understand. It’s hard to make decisions when you don’t understand what is going on in your body and like you said “they usually pull out the prescription pad after ten minutes of listening to you.” Thank you again and if I can do anything to help, please let me know. God bless you.
Hi Stephanie. Thank you so much for your kind words. I can tell that you have a great attitude and that is such a big part in healing: believing you can get better. It is possible for your body to heal, it just needs the right nutrients to do so from a physical, mental and spiritual level. Hope the books help.
Would love to do a free breakthrough session with you 🙂
Hi Aubree! Thank you once again for putting into words what we all experience from time to time. In those moments we feel so alone and I could certainly feel every word of what you wrote. Thats a hard feat to manage, to pull the audience into your world, even for just a brief moment. You seem to manage not only making that look easy but you do it with grace and compassion. I envy you that, my friend! i am in the process of changing a few things around to make my life and story easier to convey and I hope that you will dig right in and give me some pointers! Thank you for sharing again, Aubree and I hope you are feeling much better! Judy
Thank you Judy. I appreciate your complements, considering how beautiful you write 🙂 I am feeling much better. I think that I needed to release this and thought I would share it with my endo sisters, who do understand. I continue to be inspired by other bloggers who are so open about their emotions – that is something I’ve had to work on. Keep on keeping on….
Thank you for being bold enough to share and articulate this frustration of dealing with Endo. All my life I have felt “different” for many reasons in addition to Endo that no one can relate. I have always suffered silently. Thank you for giving this pain a voice to be recognized.
Thanks Debbie for reaching out. I think a lot of ladies with endo suffer silently – we need to find a way to release all the frustrations that come along with it. I’ve found creative outlets to be very helpful. This one just came out pen to paper – like a message from my inner self. Hope you have your outlet too 🙂
Thank you for writing this. I stumbled upon it in search of something else and it was clearly meant to be. I came across it at the very best moment as today was one of those very days in which I also feel much of what you beautifully wrote.
Thank you Charlane. I’m very much a believer in synchronicity. Happy you found me 🙂