I have found life difficult lately and I wasn’t sure whether to blog about it, and if so why I would. Then I thought sod it, I’ll stop questioning myself and just do it. As much as it’s absolutely essential and fantastic to share inspirations it feels just as necessary to share the hard times.
Whilst I was laying on the floor unable to walk or speak on Tuesday I was trying to explain to my other half what being in almost constant pain feels like. It feels like I walk amongst others but in a fog and that I am continuously having this internal fight that no one can see. Inside I am battered and bruised and the battling makes me feel exhausted, but on the outside I look just like anyone else. Hence why doctors and radiologists and consultants take so long to convince. I am tired of the lack of understanding, I feel guilty that I need so much rest because I want to live a full life.
I happen to have endometriosis and god knows if I’m coeliac – I just know eating gluten, particularly wheat, for 6 weeks in order to have the diagnostic test is not worth the agony, inability to work and brain fugue that would ensue. When I eat well (after all, gluten-free doesn’t automatically mean good nutrition what with all the gf cakes, biscuits, croissants etc etc now available) I feel better but sometimes it gets too much; the constant checking, the self-denial, the seemingly never-ending explaining. Ha! So self-pitying right? I don’t know why it’s bothered me so much recently – I’m sorry for whingeing.
Perhaps it’s because I am waiting for a diagnostic laparoscopy for endometriosis treatment on 13th June and all my worlds are colliding. I have held off for as long as possible so that I have a career and a job that I treasure, something of my own when for so long I was reliant on others as I couldn’t work full-time; a partner who is ultra supportive who I know is going to be so worried when I’m wheeled in and so many terrible hospital memories I can barely articulate my terror at the thought of choosing to have surgery.
I know I need this operation but it doesn’t make me feel completely accepting of it. I am angry that I have had to go private just to find a consultant who won’t rip out my vital organs (my womb and ovaries ARE vital!) – the NHS do it because it saves money and hassle in the long run, as overall the system is ultimately uncomprehending of women’s health and vaginas in general (who’d think these precious bits of anatomy make the world go round eh? Very valued). Can you imagine a man with painful testicles with occasional cysts being told that, actually fella, just to be on the safe side, we’ll lop off the lot, penis included, in case it recurs – oh but this won’t mean you’re cured, just that it makes the condition easier to treat. Oh you want children? Yeah sorry about that.
And I do have to say I am a bit tired of being left out of mum club. I know I will be a mum in some way in the future, what I mean is the being ignored in conversations by mums, of being told if I don’t have any baby information then I’m not much good then am I, of watching people become closer because they could get pregnant when I haven’t been able to. Ok, that sounds bitter. I just think we don’t talk about it all enough. With miscarriage and infertility comes a sense of guilt and shame. Because. We. Don’t. Talk. About. It. Yes it’s hard and uncomfortable and often upsetting but hiding it leaves people feeling isolated and sometimes suicidal. Don’t be afraid to bring it up. Be afraid to not bring it up. I always think if something’s hard, you’re meant to face it. Easy is boring. And often cowardly. Ask that friend if she misses her baby, ask how she feels on Mother’s Day, ask if she wants to come and see your child and then ask her how she is and say how much you like having her around. That is kindness. Ignorance and cowardice is not.
I just needed to get all that out. Now I’m off to have homemade gluten-free shepherd’s pie for lunch which should be good for my tum. The pain is not so bad today, I think that’s why I want to talk about it. When I’m in the middle of pain or feeling down I hibernate, I don’t call back, I don’t go out, I just wait it out. It’s not personal (well, to anyone other than me). Reading has been my saviour lately: The Fault in Our Stars, Gone Girl, As You Like It, Arcadia, Divergent, Insurgent. Escaping to different worlds helps me forget in one way, but also remember the contradictory importance and insignificance of my life – in a good way 😉
If anyone has read this, thank you.