And it wasn’t in love. By this time in my journey, I was falling into a deep, dark pit of despair. It was real. I couldn’t shake the feeling of how disappointed people were in me. How disappointed I was in myself. Or how many people I was letting down. Or how I thought I was failing. Let’s be real, when a school and classroom need you there, it’s hard to manage that from home, let alone in the classroom while in pain. I tried, I really did. But it proved to be too much.
I can actually say writing this post has been the toughest, by far. It’s taken a lot of time for me to admit and realize just how large and deep my pit of despair was. My hope is it will help others understand and possibly open dialogue about invisible illness. During the next several weeks, I had more and more doctor visits. Each bringing the news of “you’ll need to be off work for another 2 weeks.” I dreaded each appointment as I knew I’d hear the same thing. And, quite honestly, I was exhausted from talking about my pain. My pain level. When it was worse. When it was better, etc. Appointments brought stress and feelings of failure again and again. They stressed me out because I couldn’t say I was better. They gave me feelings of failure because my pain wasn’t going away. Remember, the “old” Stephanie always bounced back. I found myself digging deeper and deeper into my pit.
Leaving my home was becoming a thing of the past. I became a recluse hiding out in fear of someone seeing me. #judgefreeeyes weren’t being used by others and it hurt. The pain was deep. It didn’t burn, ache, or swell. This pain was like someone taking an ice pick and chipping away at my heart, breaking it into pieces. The people who knew me well, knew I couldn’t control my CRPS pain, the decision to be off work, and/or my treatment plan. They knew part of healing was getting up and moving. They knew that getting me out of the house was part of the healing process, too. But I seldom went. And if I did, it brought on more stress and burning. They also knew there had to be something else going on besides CRPS. Looking back, it was crazy for me to feel like that. But I did. Why did it matter so much what other people thought? Why did I give others consent to make me feel bad, guilty?
I had CRPS. And now I was depressed. Wait! WHAT? Happy go lucky Stephanie who loves to sing and dance and have fun, depressed? Yep, I said it! It’s not a dirty word. It doesn’t make me any different from anyone else. It’s another invisible illness we regularly overlook and often there’s a negative connotation to it. How sad is that? Mental illness is real. And it’s not any different than a broken leg, strep throat or CRPS because IT IS an illness. (More on that in a later post.) People can be depressed for many reasons. Men, women, children are all susceptible. I swear my dog, Lizzy, is depressed when Sammi is gone for long periods of time. Never before in my life had I been in such pain or fallen into a deep pit of despair. I constantly worried about what was going to happen next or what wasn’t going to happen next.
Before my fall, I was a happy person. Somehow living with pain changed that. When depression sunk in so did the thoughts of never getting better. Having a lot of time on my hands, being in pain all day, letting people down, and not being able to leave the house was setting me up for disaster. (I can honestly say that I’ve shed more tears throughout the last 20 months than I’ve shed in my entire life.) Oh, I’m good at putting on a happy face. (My family knows that.) Each day is a new day, and now more than ever, some days I have to work hard at smiling, thinking positive, and believing in myself. Fighting off the negative thoughts can be hard work, for sure!
The good news is, I am in a better place mentally right now. I’m more hopeful than ever. I have my close friends and family to thank for encouraging me each and every day. I know I’m going to get the “old” Stephanie back. As I mentioned earlier, this post was hard to write. But it will be worth it if it helps just one reader begin dialogue about depression. If you feel this way, reach out. Don’t be ashamed. And, above all, know that you matter!! God sent me on this journey for reasons I’m not sure of yet. But, I know He has great plans for me. Now, I like the sound of that!
Inside Invisible Illness 