I have been away for so long, dear readers. I developed a lot of health issues in 2014 and it’s been a challenging two year hiatus. I decided to come back and revive my blog; I always looked forward to writing, and it’s fun to interact with random strangers as well as old friends in the Blog Universe. Also, I find myself needing an outlet/space for writing about some of my health stuff, as I can feel isolated and stuck since I spend so much time at home these days.
In short, here’s the deal…
I relapsed into bulimia and restricting in 2014 and had to go into treatment. It was immensely helpful, but really, really hard. And freaking expensive, as I had to pay for all of it out of pocket. I thought I had it all figured out and that I had beaten my eating disorder, but that was most definitely not the case.
I had a huge major depressive episode in summer of 2014 while I was still in treatment, and finally started taking medication. Historically, I have been pretty anti-psych medication. However, this depressive episode threw me into the bottom of a black, mucky well and I could not seem to claw my way out.I started to develop agoraphobia as well as panic attacks. I was barely functioning. I needed the help, and I am so grateful that I took a chance and was open minded about something I had always been opposed to; in fact, I had been derisive and mocking about it, I’m ashamed to say. I was diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder and Generalized Anxiety Disorder, as well as Bulimia. To see those words, from my psychiatrist, written on paper…I cried for about a week.
During my gnarly depression (which took me a year to recover from!), I started to experience more muscle pain and stiffness, as well as bizarre joint problems. My knees would swell up and hurt like crazy, and it would just rotate from one knee to the other. I’ve always been creaky and achy and stiff, so if you have read any of my blog entries that’s not a big surprise. It kept getting worse, and I was going from doctor to doctor trying to figure out what was wrong with me. Sometimes it would hurt even to lie down; I’d suddenly become the Princess and the Pea, heavy metal Austin edition.
Finally, in January of this year, I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia. Although I was relieved to get an answer of sorts, I was not happy about it AT ALL.I’m in a pretty consistent chronic state of pain. It takes me forever to do what I used to consider “normal” activities: getting dressed, taking a shower, doing laundry, walking the long stretch from the parking garage to, well, anywhere. Basically, it is totally pissing me off and it sucks. I accept that I have fucking fibro, but I certainly don’t like it.
Ashtanga seems like a glorious thing from a distant past. Going to the grocery store is like, a crazy workout. Just going to all of my doctor’s appointments, acupuncture and therapy sometimes seems like a marathon.
This has all been a big lesson in getting humble and staying humble. I celebrated 9 years of sobriety this year, and clearly there is always more to learn. Acceptance, love and tolerance, easy does it, just for today, humility. Rinse and repeat.
It feels good to be back.