You need to breathe, a small voice said somewhere in the back of my head.
My body had been in pain for weeks now, but this evening seemed like a last straw. I rate my pain on a scale from 1-10 two times a week at PT and lately I had said “8” every time. Tonight was a 10.
I now know what the phrase “put it out of it’s misery” feels like. I had used this phrase growing up when I saw little bugs missing legs or struggling to survive. It had applied to half dried worms on the sidewalk or lightening bugs without any wings in the past. Tonight I felt like it applied to me.
God, WHY did you create me if I am going to live in a life full of pain? PLEASE take some of this burden away. I cannot go on like this.
My heart raced and my jaw felt stiff. I couldn’t cry, but my brain felt like it wanted to — I needed to. I was in so much pain; more than I ever could have imagined someone could be in. I would rather give birth; at least I would be out of pain soon enough after having a child. That thought used to terrify me, now I think the task wouldn’t nearly as bad. At least the pain had an expiration date. At least you got something you wanted out of going though all of that. The only thing I feel like I am gaining is a lesson in patience that I never asked for, lots of frustration, and helplessness.
Death has always been something that kind of scares me. Uncertainty scares me.
In a moment of such intense pain, though, nothing scares you more than a long life feeling like this. This hurts my heart writing this now that I am not feeling so terrible, but it’s really how you feel in the moment when you literally can’t think of anything except how severe the pain inflicting your body is. You put up with it when it’s a long ache you’re used to — even if it is a pretty high level — but when it becomes so sharp and deep to your core, you panic. Your body isn’t made to hurt so badly, and every single organ suddenly freaks out trying to find something to manage the way you feel. All you really can do is close your eyes, pray, and hope God will give you peace and perseverance to press on.
Moving forward I think pain and illness are things God wants me to talk about more, and I don’t want to forget about some of my hardest experiences just because I am feeling a little better these days. I still don’t know why I got sick, but I have found some of the most difficult parts of my life have been used to help others, so maybe that’s the reason I’ve had to deal with so much with POTS. Today I take my lower pain level for granted, and I want to try to remember to thank God for how much I’ve healed in the last few months. I still am nowhere near “normal,” but praise Jesus I am not in the state I was a few short months ago. God is with us, even in our darkest times, and He is so good.