Birthday Pains
September 24, 2017: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME! Thirty-two years young!
Today as I was talking to my dear friend Frank and his co-worker, a question came up that has often times been brought up before by others. "WHY DON'T I GO ON DISABILITY IF I HAVE SO MUCH WRONG WITH ME?" I've been dealing with my health issues since high school.
Early onset arthritis, asthma, allergies, food allergies, PTSD, Anxiety, Celiac Disease, Sleep apnea (most likely), Overactive bladder, MRSA, reoccurring uti/bladder infection, nutrient diffencies caused by the Celiac Disease, need for bifocals even though I'm "to young", and an astigmatism. My list is to long for a person my age. I know.
However, I get up, put my pants on one leg at a time, go to work everyday, (working 3 jobs right now) and I do my job to the best of my ability, with my whole heart in it, hoping it'll distract me from my loneliness and from the constant pain I'm in from all my issues. People ask me why are you hurting and when they hear I have arthritis, I get a look of your to young to have arthritis and told I'm to young to have it. I'm sorry, that's not what the Dr thought or said. People are so quick to judge me based on their one issue they deal with that I deal with as well. If it's not my arthritis it's my celiac disease causing pain. If it's not that it's my allergies or my anxiety. My friend Autumn tells me that my perseverance astounds her. I'm just living my life second by second, minute by minute, day by day. I don't always make the correct decision, but I try. I work because I don't want to sit at home doing nothing, making myself feel worse because I'm not moving or making myself feel like I accomplished something. I know someone who is on disability and it's not pretty either. One of my cousin's hits 20,000 steps a day easily on fitbit, yet I hit 5,000 and I'm ready to give up, curl up in bed with my heat pad, electric blanket, my quilt, my pillows, Tens unit, essential oils and pills to knock me out of my misery for the day so I'm not feeling the pain.
I reached a point in my day that I could no longer tolerate being touched anywhere on my body. Everything hurts. I've come to terms a few years ago that I'm just going to hurt everyday for the rest of my life, and some days will be worse than others. Even Frank explained to his coworker that I am always hurting because of my severely diminished health. To hear someone else say that about myself, and to say it in such a way because he truly believes me, just made the mental agony of it that much worse. I'm one of those very sickly people, that has good and bad and severe days. Today is a severe day. I want to cry all day. I want to quit my jobs. I want to hide from the world. I hurt so badly that my boobs hurt. I don't think some people truly understand some days. Some days I don't understand how I can be this age and in this much physical pain.
This is my blog. This is my voice.
HEAR ME ROAR
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