Sadness, Silence, and Strength

The weeks following my surgery slowly trickled by. At this point, the one thing I was certain of was I still had pain. No matter what the doctor said or what procedure he had done, I knew I was the one hurting each and every day. As hours turned into days and days into weeks, I started noticing something. Something was blatantly different. I was different. My thinking was different.

I guess I’d gotten to the point in my journey were I started feeling weak. I was exhausted both physically and mentally. I felt I no longer had the strength to continue fighting the doctors, the pain, and the loss of myself. My pity parties were lasting longer. My tears were unending. My hope was dwindling. I was sinking. Sinking into that dark place I never wanted to visit again. For the first time in my life, I felt like I’d hit rock bottom.

And that’s when my a-ha moment happened. It was like the wind in my sail had been totally silenced. I was giving up. It made having pity parties so much easier. I’d lost the strength to continue fighting the pain day in and day out. I’d lost the strength to deal with arrogant doctors who pretended my pain wasn’t really there. My self-esteem was gone. Like a bird flying south. GONE! My daily talks with God went from prayers of healing to prayers for Him to take me home. In my mind, being home meant I wouldn’t have pain, and my family wouldn’t have to worry about me anymore.

During this time, I became silent. A recluse even more than usual. I was mad because I was going to have to use my crutches for 5 weeks. I was mad because I would then have to wear a boot for over 8 weeks. Nothing, nothing at all, had gone as planned, and I was beyond frustrated. (Pity party at its finest!) My attitude was getting the best of me and that led me to losing hope. I just wanted to be done. Done with doctor’s appointments, done with doctors, done with medicine, done with people judging, done with pain. DONE. DONE. DONE.

While at rock bottom, I realized the only way out was up. If the doctors couldn’t help me, I needed to do something to help myself? As most chronic pain patients will tell you, it’s exhausting talking to doctors when they have absolutely no idea of what you are going through. It’s frustrating when they don’t believe you or know anything about your illness. It’s disheartening how they can make you feel like a freak and how they attribute your pain to being anxious or overwhelmed. I’d experienced this for two years now, and my patience was immensely thin. My sadness was deep. I honestly didn’t know how I was going to continue fighting this fight. But I knew I needed to move upward.

Thankfully, God didn’t answer my prayers. As I awoke each morning, I began realizing He wanted me here. His plans for me were bigger than me. I had to do something to start rising from the bottom. Although I couldn’t change the circumstances I was in, I could change the way I looked at them. With the help of God, friends and family, I worked on changing my mindset. I worked on climbing out of the ruins of my journey. It wasn’t easy or quick, but any movement at all was something. With that being said, the depression I had was real. Even with a changed mindset, it didn’t just go away. Depression and pain go hand in hand. Fighting pain every day is depressing. Dealing with everything that goes along with pain is depressing.

It’s not that I wanted to give up, I just wanted to feel better. Move on with my life. I needed something to help me feel strong, and confident. I’d lost myself, but I didn’t want to lose myself to pain! I made the decision that the pain wasn’t going to win. I needed to find the strength to fight. Fight with every fiber of my being. As I began climbing out of the ruins, I started talking more to family and friends. I was honest. I told them of my thoughts, struggles, and how scared I really was. Simply sharing this was incredibly helpful and started giving me hope. HOPE! Hope for renewed strength and courage to fight the pain and everything that goes along with it. CRPS sucks. So do all other visible and invisible illnesses that others fight to overcome every day.

Words I began to live by: I am a fighter! I am more courageous than I think! I am not my pain! Pain does not have me! And finally, just so you know, I am strong. Strong, strong, strong, strong, strong! I clung onto these words and worked on strengthening my mind and body. Although my pain wasn’t gone, I was back to managing it better. Just as my journey had proven time and time again, climbing up out of the ruins can only make me stronger, right?

Here’s a video of my reminding myself I am strong! At least that’s what my socks say. LOL