A letter to my illness…which one?
What the hell is going on?
You got me through childhood fairly unscathed, but then, you start messing with me. Yea, yea, we’ve heard it over and over – “You’re a survivor – look at all you’ve had to deal with.” Then there’s the trauma theories – it actually changes the structure of the brain; trauma is stored in the body.
Wait – is THAT it?
I get the ulcers at age 12. Makes sense. The migraines at age 14 – got it. The autoimmune stuff – as I always said to myself – it IS the ultimate form of self-hatred – the body against itself. But, what is with the weirdness of late? Why is everything you throw at me have to be something that doctors can’t figure out? All you do is pile on the stuff and that just adds insult to injury? The struggle is OVER. No one paid attention back then, and it’s too late now for retribution or revenge or redemption.
Honestly, this dysautonomia is the last straw. I can’t take it anymore. My husband can’t handle the issues either. You’ve driven other people away, do you really have to try to destroy this relationship as well? Does 14 yrs of sexual abuse lead to an autonomic nervous system disorder that waits 35 years to reveal itself? If so, why? And why NOW? Isn’t the genetic anomaly stuff, the brutal sleep disorder that makes everything else much worse, the pituitary tumor , the bone spurs, the resorption of my teeth, the whacked out way my breast size keeps painfully increasing and my hair falling out – you know the list – why do you hand me problems that require me to do all this research – and then I must haggle with my doctors just to figure out what is going on? Honestly, it feels as if YOU are torturing me all over again.
We are on the same team, in case you haven’t noticed.
I’ve done time in this bizarre prison camp for crimes I didn’t commit – what more do you want? Because I have nothing left to give.