I don’t know if anyone cares, but…

Hello everyone,

I have started to write this blog post at least 100 times. I have been afraid to grab the computer and actually sit down and write. I have been having a rather hard time the past 6 months, and things have only gotten worse. This isn’t a “poor me,” post. It is just something to attempt to reach out and maybe resonate with someone. Maybe it won’t and will actually come across as me reaching out for sympathy. Trust me, I don’t need any, I just need a little understanding.

I have always wanted to be a writer. It has become very difficult to do so in a world where you aren’t special. I don’t have what people are looking for, as I can tell by the hundreds of thousands of spam messages that have taken over my blog, and I can’t get ride of! When you put money into something like this because you want to grow, and invest in yourself, it is a little daunting that this is the best I can get. But, I digress. This isn’t the only issue, because at the end of the day this worry seems a bit silly.

I have been very sick for the past few years. My battle with endometriosis has taken a huge toll on me. If you don’t understand what this is, it is a very painful illness women can get. The lining that naturally comes out during their monthly cycle doesn’t work as it should. This spreads on the outside of the organs and are not limited to reproduction ones only. In fact, the scar tissue can get so heavy that your organs can fuse together. It is not just bad cramps. This is something so horrible that there are days you can’t even stand up. It is a daily battle for me since we have yet to find the right combination of drugs, PT, and surgeries to help me with my pain and my bleeding. I bleed every single day.

Because of the all of this, I have sever anxiety and depression. I also am anemic, and should own stocks in pads. I have trouble walking, standing, sleeping, or pretty much anything. I always feel dizzy and feel like I’m going to throw up. I have bloody accidents due to massive blood flow several times a week. As you can see, there is no good treatment and there is literally no cure. You can do surgery to remove tissue, call a lap, but it will only be a temporary fix. There is no diet, no drug, no surgery that will ever make it go away. This is a lifelong thing, and as a women with endo, you are more likely to develop cancer of the reproductive organs. Basically, I live with fire every day.

The world does not stop for pain. I can only work part time at a coffee shop, and be a caregiver. I don’t make enough money to live. I push myself to the brink every single day. Many days, I am screaming out loud because of the pain. I can hardly walk into my house. More often than not, I must force myself to go into work and work through the pain. But, I will pay for it. I do every single time. That means I won’t be able to walk the rest of the day, or worse, I end up not being able to use my legs at all. ER trips are normal.

As you can see, I want nothing more than to make a good living at writing, but I can’t put in the effort needed to do this most days. The pain is too much. I can’t even stand a blanket on me. I want to continue to do the best I can to keep coming back to this blog. It is a bit of happiness for me even when I’m frustrated with how the site host is working. I don’t know the magical formula to make it work, even though there is a lot of hard work being put into these blogs. I actually have fun doing them. I don’t know if anyone has any fun reading them. I guess I will keep going for me.

That is not the end of my medical issues, but the rest is too private to talk about. Everyday is a roller coaster. The depression and anxiety is at all time high. I am with a medical professional. I do have the tools I need to try to deal with all of this. Just some days, I don’t know if anyone cares, or if any of this is worth the effort. I lost my world not too long ago, and one day, I will write about it. In the meantime, I am just trying. That’s all I can do is to wake up each day and get out of bed. That may be all I can do. I fear my life is slipping away from me as I learn to deal with my illness and my new normal. What can I do except put one foot in front of the other.

One small, small step to try to tell the world that I am still fighting, and even as dark as things have been, I have yet to give up.

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