Planned Spontaneity

Probably one of the biggest things I miss is feeling good enough to just go do something. When I felt good, I was up for anything. Before I started writing, I was a runner, and I was running 5-10 miles four or five times a week. I was at the height of my health. I was eating well, had energy, slept well. I could get a million things done and still be up for doing something else. Case in point, this popped up on my Facebook timeline the other day, and I added my response to it.

One of my biggest mistakes was stopping running when I started writing. Even though my job is flexible and if it's not busy (a rarity these days) I'm allowed to read or do something else, I stopped running completely and began writing every free second I had. I should never have done that, finding that elusive balance to keep both in my life instead. But I jumped into writing head first, and like a diver who mistakenly dives into a kiddie pool, I slammed my head on the floor of the pool. My health never quite recovered. This doesn't have anything to do with the dryer sheets and my lichen sclerosis--I doubt I would have been able to handle what they did to me any better had I been running, but the aftermath, what I'm going through now, I think would have been much more manageable. 

I'm tired a lot, mentally and physically, but not drinking anymore has helped significantly, even if I do still get winded going up and down stairs or walking to the park and back (which is about a mile and a half to and from). In a different post about my colonoscopy, I mentioned I'm not even sure how I got my hemorrhoids because I've never had a problem going to the bathroom. I realized after I stopped drinking that my potty habits became more regular and that alcohol was probably the cause of having to go so frequently. That frequency stressed me out to the point where I was (and am) scared to go places. It aggravated my anxiety, especially if I had to go somewhere in the morning like a dentist appointment or a hair appointment. I felt like garbage, and once I stopped drinking, I know it was because I was dehydrated and hungover. 

So, my body is finding a new normal (I hate that term, but I guess that's what it is) among the ovary pills I'm on to keep my ovarian cysts from reoccurring during ovulation, being "sober" (I still have one drink a week with my sister when we go out for dinner and a movie on Tuesdays), and getting used to the idea that my hellish time with my health might actually be coming to a close. I have another appointment at the end of August, and I suspect an endometriosis diagnosis to explain the weird feeling and bloating I have in my belly and hopefully by then I'll have my hemorrhoids under control. I'm not sure what kind of treatment I'll have going forward, but I'm hoping I'll have a longer time between appointments now since I'll have run out of things for her to help me with. They don't do anything for endometriosis and she already told me when she made my MRI appointment that if they find it, the only way they'll schedule surgery to remove it is if I'm in severe pain. I haven't reached that point yet. My lichen symptoms have faded and I can barely tell I have it most days, so I'll be keeping up with the cream for the rest of my life, probably.

I'm at a time in my recovery where this is probably going to be it, and I have to resign myself to the fact that this is going to be as good as I'm ever going to feel again. But that doesn't mean I have to say goodbye to the spontaneity I used to enjoy. I'm going to fight like hell to get it back because I miss that part of me, that time in my life when I was up for a road trip on a day off, or out of blue wanting to go shopping. Physically, I'm doing better. I still go number two in the morning like clockwork, but after I'm done, that's it for the day, not like it used to be where I could go four or five times and not be completely done until noon or after. I am so glad I decided to stop drinking because if I hadn't, I might have always had potty habits like that, and like anyone who does have a legitimate reason to be in the bathroom all the time, it's very stressful. You can't enjoy anything because you're always just obsessing if you have access to a bathroom, and when you're on a roadtrip or shopping in a store that doesn't have restrooms available for their customers, you don't. 

I do have a plan for getting back into some kind of life that I used to have before. I want to get more active and lose some weight (I've gained a lot in the past four years), push myself to still go places because once I'm out and about, I realize it's not so bad... I feel better than I think I do. If I walk away with an endo diagnosis, there are things you can do to tamp down the side effects of having a belly full of it, and I'll ask her more about that at my appointment. But most importantly, I just want to get over the hump of this whole health thing. I found a doctor who knew what was wrong with me. I've worked hard at figuring out what was wrong with me on my end--researching how I got BV in in the first place, agreeing to go on ovary medication when she offered it, and not drinking anymore--and now, while I'm not completely free of health issues, I'm in a lot better place than I was back in February before my first appointment. 

It will take time, and I know that. I felt like crap for four and a half years, and I buried a lot of that physical pain and mental despair in a bottle. I had no idea I was doing it so much and it caused other health issues like aggravating my anxiety and making me very tired. My anxiety faded a lot, and the attacks I used to suffer through have almost completely gone away. I still get anxious having to go somewhere, like to Walmart and Aldi on my weekly shopping trip, because I don't like being in a car for a even just a short period of time. I hope in time that will fade because there's no reason to be afraid of leaving my apartment. There actually public restrooms available, and I have used my fair share. Not because of my potty issues, but because I drink a lot of water, and more often than not, I'm always going to have to pee. 

Like I told a friend, I'm battling a culmination of health issues and trauma, and I have to give myself time to get over it. I have to remind myself that even if I didn't have the weird feeling in my belly or my hemorrhoids, I would still feel like this because years and years of health issues can't simply be shaken off. And I did have a lot of bullshit happen to me while I was dealing with this--loss of friends, my broken engagement, surgery--and it all adds up. 

I want to wake up one day and say, "Let's go out of town," shower, get dressed, and just go without worrying about how I'm going to feel or if I'm going to panic because I'll be sitting in a car for two hours. I want to be able to do that, and if I've proven anything to myself in the past four and a half years, I'm not quitter. 

I'll get there, even if the night before I have to plan it so I can get into the mindset that I'll be gone for the day. I don't enjoy being in my bedroom 24/7 only because I feel safe at home. I don't like being scared to go places. I do feel better than I think I do--and I'm not going through anything a person with reproductive parts hasn't gone through before.

I'll get it figured out, eventually, and when I do, I'll have a drink to celebrate.