For some of us, it has been not months, years.
Years turn into decades. Decades of just ‘not feeling well’ and ‘feeling off…’ with or without an official diagnosis. Some of the diagnoses that we carry around like lopsided suitcases get us laughed at in emergency rooms, in times where we need help most.
We have all been there, hearts sinking, dealing with the doubt and the confusion – not just what we struggle with internally, but that which others put onto us.
When will I get better?
I grappled with this for years with the Lyme diagnosis. Then came the POTS diagnosis. Then came the CIDP scares, the genetic mutations, the stomach issues, the mycoplasma, the thyroid issues… and I shook my fist.
I shook my fist at God and at every single person I had left. I hid. I hid in anger. I hid from all these terrible letters that spelled out one thing in my teenage head: YOU WILL NEVER GET BETTER. One after the other. It was like a never ending marathon.
I felt like a bird flying, trying to get shelter from the storm. Just before I would land every time, the tree would disintigrate. I was TIRED.
My mindset was the key factor, here.
Even after I was declared “in remission,” I still felt so ill. All the time. New issues arose. It was a never ending puzzle.
After nearly a decade of being a professional sick person and trying to live around it, I finally felt better. It was the day that I mentally let it go. I let go trying to heal. I let go trying to solve and to understand. I literally verbally told my body I was sorry for being so angry and I wanted to help it heal. I believed it could heal, something I never felt or thought in so long. I cried. A lot. It was a months-to-years long process of this constant grappling.
I am finally free. Do I still ache sometimes? Yes. Do I have that never-ending coat-like exhaustion? Yes. Am I getting better, on the uphill slope? Yes. Because I choose to be. Our brains listen to what we say to them and respond accordingly. I thought this was bogus until a few months ago I had a two-month long bout of chronic nausea to the point where I could not eat. I obsessed on what could possibly be the cause of the nausea until the endoscopy came back clear. Only when I let it go and accepted that it would have good days and bad days was I able to eat again. I had my first good day. Yes, I cried then too.
We are always capable of healing. Our body is amazing and not yet fully understood. When you get those letters in the doctor’s office, don’t see them as sealing your fate, or as another mountain to climb. See it as a curve in the road to your own healing. A step in the staircase. An opportunity for your Father to prove Himself all over again to you, in a bunch of new ways.