I've Been Walking Through Hell (And Let Me Tell You, it's Not Fun)
Alright, so it's been a while (eight months to be exact. I' could have almost had a baby in this amount of time -- crazy). Sorry about that wait for any (and all none of you) you read my blog with some "regularity". I put regularity in quotes because there hasn't been much blog to read with regularity recently. Sorry again about that. But, with new found inspiration, I'm starting over.
Starting in June, I've been going through a major withdraw. Maybe withdraw isn't the right word, but hear me out for a minute. I've had to go with little or no food. For nine months -- the nine months of hell, I've been referring to them as. Now what has caused this terrible food-less-ness you may ask? Well, it's a bit of a long story, so buckle up.
I have acne. A regular teenage thing, I'm aware. But I don't just have acne, oh no. I don't just have the kind that leaves my face with a few blemishes here and there. I have the kind that takes up the majority of my face with little (or not so little) red, swollen, painful bumps that no cream, solution, or medicine can take care of. And I've been dealing with this shit for a l-o-n-g time. Just to put this into perspective, I'm a senior in high school now, and I've been dealing with it since grade 7. That's going on 6 years of torture for my poor face. And, as any middle schooler with terrible acne would like to imagine, I thought growing up would make it better. Well, it didn't. So a little over a year ago, I decided to see a dermatologist, who prescribed a medication that should take care of the problem.
Things started to look up! There was a sunbeam through the clouds that my life was becoming. My face was finally taking a good turn -- things were starting to get better, and the terrible red bumps my face produced at a rapid rate were slowing down and getting smaller. It was all fine and dandy -- until June hit.
After I got home from a school trip, I started loosing my appetite. And not just the quick loss of appetite that a stomach flu gives you. No, I'm talking about NINE FRICKIN' MONTHS of appetite loss. There were times I wouldn't eat for days, and I'd have to force something down my throat because I would start to shake. And, along with the loss of appetite, I had stomach aches. All the time. Like, I felt like I had to throw up literally, all the time. That's why I didn't eat, that and my loss of appetite. So I had to force feed myself almost everyday, all the time, and when I did manage to get hungry, I would only eat about half a piece of pizza before I was full or ready to throw up (which I never did, despite the constant nausea). Needless to say, my family and friends were worried about me, and I had to constantly tell them, myself, and people I hardly knew that, no, I didn't have an eating disorder; yes, this was a completely normal happenstance; and yes, I was going alright... relatively.
But, after only a few months of this stupid hell, I started feeling random pains in my chest and abdomen. And not just menstrual cramps, but jolts of pain that would last a few seconds to a few minutes. They would happen randomly through the day and night. Eventually I just got used to them. But then I started to worry. What if this is all happening because I have some rare disease that was slowly eating me up from the stomach out. As I started to think about it -- and being the introvert I am I had plenty of thinking time -- it made perfect sense. Loss of appetite, constant stomach pains, the flashes of pain elsewhere in my chest, it all just made sense. I began to convince myself I was dying of cancer. Whenever I would bring up the pain to my parents, or they asked what was wrong, I would just shake it off as a stupid thought that occasionally flashed through my head.
But the truth was it wasn't a stupid though, nor did it only occasionally flash through my head. Now, I've never considered myself suicidal, and I don't to this day, but I began to think about death with a very unnatural regularity. Was I actually dying? Was this cancer curable? When was my mother going to take me seriously enough to take me to a doctor? How do the break this kind of news to you? How bad will chemo mess me up? Will chemo even work? What are my friends going to think? What if I have to drop out of school? All of these questions and more became more and more natural to flash through my head. With every jolt of pain came a new question. And to say that it scared me was an understatement.
Now I'm a Christian, and I kept convincing myself that God was going to magically make everything better. But he didn't. Even after I stopped taking that horrid pill in November or December, it just kept staying the same or getting worse. Nothing that I tried was making it better. And my acne was only getting worse again, since I stopped taking the antibiotic.
My mother and I began to talk about food allergies and intolerances. Was I just allergic to something? Something common like gluten or dairy? One of my cousins had allergies to everything that made him feel like shit, so was my case similar to his? My mother kept saying I should stop eating gluten or dairy, to see if that would help. I didn't because I mean, come on, who wants to give of gluten and diary? I work at a frickin' ice cream shop -- I can't give up dairy!
Well, in the meantime, my Chiropractor (yes, I see a Chiropractor with monthly regularity) suggested that I start taking a pro-biotic, to help restore what the antibiotic probably killed off. Anything to try and make me feel better, right? So I started taking that as well -- a giant pill once a day. It it helped me feel better, even though it wasn't changing the problem. I could start to eat with a little more regularity, and that felt amazing. I could at least eat one meal a day sufficiently. I could stop complaining about being so hungry and so un-hungry at the same time. My friends stopped complaining about me never eating. Things were starting to look up. And my face was slowly (very, VERY slowly) starting to get better as well.
Then, just about three weeks ago, my Chiropractor suggested something else to add to the probiotic. I don't even remember what it's called, but that doesn't really matter. All I know is that it works -- majorly. For the first time in MONTHS I was finally able to say "I'm hungry enough to eat a cow" and mean it. This sounds really sad, but I was finally able to finish all of the food of my plate and actually go back for seconds. I could finally eat again. And to say that I was finally happy again was the truth. I wasn't dying of a rare, exotic disease that I was slowly dying of. I could actually afford to be a regular teenager again.
Now, I know what you're thinking: your face must be suffering from this new treatment though, and that's why you don't seem totally thrilled. Oh poor reader, you must think you're SO smart.
Well, let me tell you that, yes, my face is struggling a bit right now. I do have more stupid, red bumps then I have the past few months. But you know what's causing them now? The chemicals isn my body fixing themselves -- this is a TOTALLY natural bodily response to the chemistry going on in my gut. So there, take that!
I wish I could tell you I've learn loads from this, that I'm writing a book about the whole experience, and that I can tour around the country telling people that acne and eating have a ton in common, but I can't. The truth is, I'm still struggling with this. Just yesterday, I wasn't able to finish my hamburger -- and it sucks. The look my mom gives me when she asks if I'm done eating with half of my food on my plate and I say yes, is painful. It's so painful to know that she worries about me all the time. It's painful to think that people who meet me might think I have an eating disorder, or that people who don't know me could even think about judging me that quickly.
To say that I've struggled with God these past few month is a total understatement. I've been really angry with him. But he's been patient, and he kept giving me answers and hope when I felt like just never eating another tasty thing again. It was hard knowing that he created my body, when it seemed like my body was so messed up. But now at least I know that it's getting better. My life hasn't been easy, but at least I have some wind in my sails now that I didn't have before.
I still struggle with eating (like I said before), and I definitely struggle with my appearance, like any teenager does. But I've learn to accept it. I have a family of both relatives and friends who are always there to support me, and I have a foundation what covers up what my confidence can't. I have a fiery spirit to push through tough things now that I've been through hell once. And while that may have dampened my spirits the last couple of months, I now know that I can get through anything. And that has made all the difference.
So, whether or not you can take anything out of my long, probably incredibly boring story or not, I don't know. I hope you can learn something from my insights and struggles. But hey, if you can't that's okay too. I just want to leave you with one thought: our bodies are amazing. The big man upstairs has created the most amazing machine on earth, and surprisingly it doesn't run on fast food (another thing I've learned). And if our bodies are that amazing, then our minds are too. I know that if you're struggling with something, even if it's much more important than this, that you can get through it. The tiny (or not so tiny) red bumps of your life can't control you, so don't let them. Just let your machine run -- I promise God can keep it running without your help.
Just remember that everything happens for a reason, and sometimes, figuring that out isn't part of the plan until later. I give my love to all of you out there,
Carly
Starting in June, I've been going through a major withdraw. Maybe withdraw isn't the right word, but hear me out for a minute. I've had to go with little or no food. For nine months -- the nine months of hell, I've been referring to them as. Now what has caused this terrible food-less-ness you may ask? Well, it's a bit of a long story, so buckle up.
I have acne. A regular teenage thing, I'm aware. But I don't just have acne, oh no. I don't just have the kind that leaves my face with a few blemishes here and there. I have the kind that takes up the majority of my face with little (or not so little) red, swollen, painful bumps that no cream, solution, or medicine can take care of. And I've been dealing with this shit for a l-o-n-g time. Just to put this into perspective, I'm a senior in high school now, and I've been dealing with it since grade 7. That's going on 6 years of torture for my poor face. And, as any middle schooler with terrible acne would like to imagine, I thought growing up would make it better. Well, it didn't. So a little over a year ago, I decided to see a dermatologist, who prescribed a medication that should take care of the problem.
Things started to look up! There was a sunbeam through the clouds that my life was becoming. My face was finally taking a good turn -- things were starting to get better, and the terrible red bumps my face produced at a rapid rate were slowing down and getting smaller. It was all fine and dandy -- until June hit.
After I got home from a school trip, I started loosing my appetite. And not just the quick loss of appetite that a stomach flu gives you. No, I'm talking about NINE FRICKIN' MONTHS of appetite loss. There were times I wouldn't eat for days, and I'd have to force something down my throat because I would start to shake. And, along with the loss of appetite, I had stomach aches. All the time. Like, I felt like I had to throw up literally, all the time. That's why I didn't eat, that and my loss of appetite. So I had to force feed myself almost everyday, all the time, and when I did manage to get hungry, I would only eat about half a piece of pizza before I was full or ready to throw up (which I never did, despite the constant nausea). Needless to say, my family and friends were worried about me, and I had to constantly tell them, myself, and people I hardly knew that, no, I didn't have an eating disorder; yes, this was a completely normal happenstance; and yes, I was going alright... relatively.
But, after only a few months of this stupid hell, I started feeling random pains in my chest and abdomen. And not just menstrual cramps, but jolts of pain that would last a few seconds to a few minutes. They would happen randomly through the day and night. Eventually I just got used to them. But then I started to worry. What if this is all happening because I have some rare disease that was slowly eating me up from the stomach out. As I started to think about it -- and being the introvert I am I had plenty of thinking time -- it made perfect sense. Loss of appetite, constant stomach pains, the flashes of pain elsewhere in my chest, it all just made sense. I began to convince myself I was dying of cancer. Whenever I would bring up the pain to my parents, or they asked what was wrong, I would just shake it off as a stupid thought that occasionally flashed through my head.
But the truth was it wasn't a stupid though, nor did it only occasionally flash through my head. Now, I've never considered myself suicidal, and I don't to this day, but I began to think about death with a very unnatural regularity. Was I actually dying? Was this cancer curable? When was my mother going to take me seriously enough to take me to a doctor? How do the break this kind of news to you? How bad will chemo mess me up? Will chemo even work? What are my friends going to think? What if I have to drop out of school? All of these questions and more became more and more natural to flash through my head. With every jolt of pain came a new question. And to say that it scared me was an understatement.
Now I'm a Christian, and I kept convincing myself that God was going to magically make everything better. But he didn't. Even after I stopped taking that horrid pill in November or December, it just kept staying the same or getting worse. Nothing that I tried was making it better. And my acne was only getting worse again, since I stopped taking the antibiotic.
My mother and I began to talk about food allergies and intolerances. Was I just allergic to something? Something common like gluten or dairy? One of my cousins had allergies to everything that made him feel like shit, so was my case similar to his? My mother kept saying I should stop eating gluten or dairy, to see if that would help. I didn't because I mean, come on, who wants to give of gluten and diary? I work at a frickin' ice cream shop -- I can't give up dairy!
Well, in the meantime, my Chiropractor (yes, I see a Chiropractor with monthly regularity) suggested that I start taking a pro-biotic, to help restore what the antibiotic probably killed off. Anything to try and make me feel better, right? So I started taking that as well -- a giant pill once a day. It it helped me feel better, even though it wasn't changing the problem. I could start to eat with a little more regularity, and that felt amazing. I could at least eat one meal a day sufficiently. I could stop complaining about being so hungry and so un-hungry at the same time. My friends stopped complaining about me never eating. Things were starting to look up. And my face was slowly (very, VERY slowly) starting to get better as well.
Then, just about three weeks ago, my Chiropractor suggested something else to add to the probiotic. I don't even remember what it's called, but that doesn't really matter. All I know is that it works -- majorly. For the first time in MONTHS I was finally able to say "I'm hungry enough to eat a cow" and mean it. This sounds really sad, but I was finally able to finish all of the food of my plate and actually go back for seconds. I could finally eat again. And to say that I was finally happy again was the truth. I wasn't dying of a rare, exotic disease that I was slowly dying of. I could actually afford to be a regular teenager again.
Now, I know what you're thinking: your face must be suffering from this new treatment though, and that's why you don't seem totally thrilled. Oh poor reader, you must think you're SO smart.
Well, let me tell you that, yes, my face is struggling a bit right now. I do have more stupid, red bumps then I have the past few months. But you know what's causing them now? The chemicals isn my body fixing themselves -- this is a TOTALLY natural bodily response to the chemistry going on in my gut. So there, take that!
I wish I could tell you I've learn loads from this, that I'm writing a book about the whole experience, and that I can tour around the country telling people that acne and eating have a ton in common, but I can't. The truth is, I'm still struggling with this. Just yesterday, I wasn't able to finish my hamburger -- and it sucks. The look my mom gives me when she asks if I'm done eating with half of my food on my plate and I say yes, is painful. It's so painful to know that she worries about me all the time. It's painful to think that people who meet me might think I have an eating disorder, or that people who don't know me could even think about judging me that quickly.
To say that I've struggled with God these past few month is a total understatement. I've been really angry with him. But he's been patient, and he kept giving me answers and hope when I felt like just never eating another tasty thing again. It was hard knowing that he created my body, when it seemed like my body was so messed up. But now at least I know that it's getting better. My life hasn't been easy, but at least I have some wind in my sails now that I didn't have before.
I still struggle with eating (like I said before), and I definitely struggle with my appearance, like any teenager does. But I've learn to accept it. I have a family of both relatives and friends who are always there to support me, and I have a foundation what covers up what my confidence can't. I have a fiery spirit to push through tough things now that I've been through hell once. And while that may have dampened my spirits the last couple of months, I now know that I can get through anything. And that has made all the difference.
So, whether or not you can take anything out of my long, probably incredibly boring story or not, I don't know. I hope you can learn something from my insights and struggles. But hey, if you can't that's okay too. I just want to leave you with one thought: our bodies are amazing. The big man upstairs has created the most amazing machine on earth, and surprisingly it doesn't run on fast food (another thing I've learned). And if our bodies are that amazing, then our minds are too. I know that if you're struggling with something, even if it's much more important than this, that you can get through it. The tiny (or not so tiny) red bumps of your life can't control you, so don't let them. Just let your machine run -- I promise God can keep it running without your help.
Just remember that everything happens for a reason, and sometimes, figuring that out isn't part of the plan until later. I give my love to all of you out there,
Carly
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