Who? Me?

When she asked the question, I just stopped for a moment in time. I think I quit breathing. I felt my shoulders sink down.

“I guess….um….since it took over my life,” I answered as tears rolled down my cheeks.

Every once in a while, you have a gut feeling you need something in your life but it would be uncomfortable, so you try to ignore your gut.

Until someday you realize, ignoring is not working.

I found myself searching online for a place nearby when I stumbled on a page I thought would be a good fit.

I filled out the form online saying I would like to schedule an appointment to see if this was something I needed.

And then, I went on to ignore both calls over the next two days from them before with hands shaking and a pit in my stomach I called them and scheduled an appointment.

When I arrived, I completed a handful of questionnaires and assessments and then I began telling her what was happening, my life, my journey with CRPS and how I felt.

Eventually she asked that question, “How long ago did the depression again?”

All in that moment I realized just how much pain and CRPS had control over my life in every single way. Tears streamed down my face as I sat there looking at the floor.

I knew then I needed this. I knew then that therapy was essential.

I knew I felt empty, I knew I woke up every day feeling hopeless, I knew I hated the body I live in and was angry at it, I knew that tears fell down my face all the time anymore.

I knew that every time another treatment failed, it killed me someplace deep inside. Sixteen different times.

The biggest red flag, the one that made me schedule the appointment was every night I was starting to notice that when I crawled in bed I felt empty. I had no emotion to talk to my husband or connect like we always did at the end of our day. I was empty. I felt nothing. That terrified me.

I knew I was struggling. I knew I did not feel like me. I just did not realize how far it had gone.

Now, I have a safe place to talk. Don’t get me wrong, my husband is always there to listen, however, I often find myself protecting him. I know he worries about me, feels helpless, and my pain tears him up inside so I do not always share the extent with him in order to shield him from the reality of this disease.

This is a hard chapter to share. Really.

However, I share this in case you have a feeling in your gut that is telling you that maybe you need someone to talk to or someone to help teach you strategies to cope with whatever you may be struggling with, that you know you are not alone and there is so much strength and courage in saying, “I need help, I cannot do this alone.”

Personally, I have chosen a place centered on teaching how to rewire my brain, so to say, and how to look at things differently. Mindfulness. I’m learning how to look at my pain from a different perspective than one of anger, frustration, fear, hate and hopelessness.

With my therapist and a lot of intentional work, I have no doubt that my depression and anxiety will stop winning and someday I will find myself back to me.

Until Next Time~