The Emergency Therapy Session (invisible illness #4)

I have a terrible weekend. I am in excruciating pain and the boys are here. On Friday I walk out of the house. I sit in the park wondering what the point of my life is whilst it escapes me that there are two little boys and a man only yards away who want and need me.

I cry openly. The park is empty. I cannot hear the birdsong through the noise in my head. Do I really hate my life or just the pain? I know I should really tell someone but who? I do not want to be here, I feel restricted, constricted and trapped in the monthly cycle of a macabre merry-go-round. Each month the same or worse than the last. I think about dying. It is the only way to make it stop.

The following day I take strong meds one after the other and cannot shake the pain. I lie with a hot water bottle between my legs or on my right hip as the pain radiates down. Irritated I moan and criticise others, angry with myself and lack of mobility. I hide in the cupboard under the stairs and hold my breath whilst clenching my teeth. I stay there eyes closed, tears streaming down my face, standing very still in the dark, until the pain of my bladder filling up forces me to the bathroom. I scream as I pass urine. I take more strong pain killers before I fall asleep, the morphine flooding my system. The day passes me by.

On Sunday I wake up howling in pain, I cannot get up. Michelangelo has to help me to sit up. I weep quietly as the boys are asleep. I shuffle across to the bathroom as pills are popped out of their packet. He cannot find the strong dose so I end up spaced out on a double dose of the wrong ones, having nightmares, screaming for help and sobbing into my pillow a few hours later. I wake up and pour a glass of wine for breakfast. I drink through the day and keep on with the strong meds.

I do not want this life. I think about a knife that lives downstairs. If I accidentally fell onto it, well, it would be an accident.

In the morning I do not want the boys to leave me but I say nothing, I make them breakfast and wave everybody off, wishing them a lovely day. The weekend is over. I am alone. Alone with my pain.

I message Helen. She messages back. I think about why I feel so bad but I’m in another place, another headspace. She knows me, she understands and asks me questions to help me. An hour or two later I am feeling more positive. Helen tells me to take back control and not let pain be the trigger point of a downward spiral as we know each month it will happen. She tells me to regain control by refocusing and asks me to make a list of new goals. We discuss ways I could be more open with Michelangelo and my family. We discuss how alone I feel having an invisible illness, living miles from my friends and family and not seeing my coworkers. We agree that loneliness is the trigger; the pain is isolating but something many others experience.

My the end of the emergency session I have made a list. i join a group, download an app and reach out to people I have not spoken to in years.

A few days later the pain disappears as it always does but I have changed my habits dramatically. The group is great, the app keeps me busy and I even attempted to exercise. Michelangelo loves that I push myself to be better. His support and that of my family is everything.

Last night, on a very serious note, I ask him to change our schedule and I ask him refrain from having the boys at this point in my cycle. This is something I need him to do for me, for us. I am not sure he agrees but I need him to support me whilst I experience this terrible pain so he can help me through, we cannot do it whilst I look after others, I need someone to look after me.

To my fellow Endometriosis & Adenomyosis warriors

~ My deepest and most heartfelt gratitude to my therapist and my family for supporting me through this painful chapter of my life. I am twenty two years with anomalous growths and pains and it may be many more years before it ends; but, I will not fear it. I will live happily, positively and with Love Always Xx ~

One thought on “The Emergency Therapy Session (invisible illness #4)

  1. You are a tough lady. I am proud of you. I believe talking open about your pain can let the others who are isolated know that they are not alone. Keep finding ways to soothe your pain and find people to support you. Take care❤

    Like

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