Screaming in Silence

Pain, ripping flesh, breaking bones, searing flames of agony.
This isn’t torture. It’s my normal.
Tears flow down swollen cheeks to meet the pool gathered on my pillow. How many more nights will this flare last?
The drill in my ear, pressure building. Electric shocks through my jaw. Someone stop it.
Turn off the power. Cut the nerve. Rescue me. I’m dying. Please help me.

I wrote that poem in the middle of a flare up of the neuralgias I love with. They are always constant, but some days they flare so bad I cannot function. It’s unbelievably frustrating. The pain is beyond what the human body should have to endure. 10 days to surgery. I am so ready for this to be done!

~Kristen

Monday Morning Ready!

Good morning all. I know it’s been a while since I posted anything or read any blogs. My health has been my primary focus lately. Brain surgery in 23 days!! But, while I’ve been basically bedridden, I have been doing a lot of thinking.

I have a million ideas for projects, community involvement, books I want to write, and opinion pieces I want to write. However, my brain is total mush!

Any suggestions for organizing my thoughts and getting these projects underway? 🤔

Moving On

When you realize your worth, you laugh at those that didn’t see it. You pity them for missing out on all the awesomeness that is you. Yes, of course you mourn for the “what could have been”. But you look ahead at what will be!

We have formed these ideas in our minds of what could be. And we get excited about the possibilities. We begin to feel like we are finally heading in the right direction. Being led to our destiny. And then the crash. The realization that we aren’t going to have what we thought we would. That moment when the truth hits is like a knife in the chest; a punch in the gut. Why couldn’t they have just followed through? Those fears that held them back have now crushed your dreams. It’s a terrible feeling. I know.

Moving on, though, is a beautiful thing. When you can feel yourself getting stronger each day. When you can finally hear that song or see that person on social media without feeling weak inside. When you can feel your strength building little by little. One day at a time. When you realize you are worth far more than you ever knew. When you see what you should have seen all along. And then you apologize to yourself. You need to make it a point to do that. Apologize for being blinded by love. Apologize for the way you viewed the world through rose colored glasses and ignored every red flag your inner self tried to point out. Apologize for being human. For wishing and dreaming of what would never be. But warn yourself, it’s probably going to happen again. And that’s OK!!

Too bad they were too scared of what could be. It could have been amazing. But what is to come will surely be better. Because now you are wiser. Do not put yourself down for trusting the wrong person. And do not allow that person to influence the way you view the next person. Do not hide away, either, my darling. Do not cut yourself off from the next possibility. Live your life one moment at a time. Allow things to happen, both good and bad. Because that is the beauty of life.

 

My New Normal

Yesterday I was diagnosed with now a 3rd pain disorder… Er disfunction/disease/ailment/illness that causes pain. I don’t even know what to call it. All I know is I’m really over it.

I’m over not being the woman I want to be. I’m over not being the mom I was; the mom my kids deserve. I’m over people questioning my constant illnesses and my constant pain. I’m over people making jokes when I slur my words or when I walk with a limp. I’m over this daily struggle.

But it’s my new normal. I have to learn to deal. 3 years ago I woke up with a migraine that never left. Thankfully, botox injections ease them enough so that I can function. Almost 2 years ago I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia. That was also a major change and adjustment. One I still struggle with daily. And now trigeminal neuralgia. I do not know much about it yet other than it’s rare, it’s painful, it can happen to anyone, and there is no cure; only the attempt at treatment.

I am not looking for sympathy or anything. I am primarily writing this just so I can get it out. So I can face the music and say to myself, “this is your new normal so learn to deal”….

I’m not sure what the future holds or if the meds will help me. I also don’t know what fresh hell awaits me for next year. Anyone wanna place bets? I’m kidding, don’t be so sensitive!

Until next time….

Story Time: Grab a Seat 

Hi everyone. I would like to share my story with you. Some may call it bragging. But some may be inspired. Here goes nothing. 

At 17, I found out I was pregnant. Wow! I never expected to be a statistic. I never intended to let down my parents, embarrass my siblings, or shame my family. But there I was, barely attending school as it is was due to rebellious teenage ways, and pregnant. When I went to the guidance counselor in April of my senior year, he informed me that I could not come back and finish out the year. I would have to go back in September and complete another year. Due to give birth September 14th, I knew that wouldn’t work. So I took my fate and focused on getting ready to have a baby. 


September came, and my world changed. On the day when the world mourned the lives lost in the terror attacks in NY, DC, and PA, I became a mom to a beautiful little girl. Boy did I have to grow up fast! A year after her birth, I took my father up on the offer to pay for the GED test. I passed with no problems. I wasn’t stupid, not by any stretch of the imagination. I was a teen who rebelled against tough times and tough authority and made poor choices in the process. But stupid, I was not. 

A few months after getting my diploma, I started community college. I did amazingly well! But a few semesters in, I was raising my little girl alone and work became priority. I had to stop attending college. 

And then, 4 and a half years after my first child, I gave birth to a chunky little boy! But a few months after his birth, I found that I still had not learned my lesson about men and bad choices. His donor was a drug addict who abused me and threatened to kill him. But I was strong enough to know that I needed to get far, far away. I did. I also enrolled in college again and continued working on my degree. 

17 months after chunky monkey was born, I gave birth to another son. His dad and I did all we could to raise all 3 kids in a happy, healthy environment. But we were young and it didn’t last. We currently co-parent. And it works for us. As has the co-parenting with my daughter’s father (mostly). Don’t worry, chunky monkey knows his background, and he loves the dad that has been and continues to raise him. 

5 years ago, when the boy’s dad and I split, I lived in my sister’s attic. 3 kids, me, and what personal belongings we could fit, spent a year living in my sister’s loft style, finished attic. Though it was cramped, we had love. I had the support of my sister and her strength to learn from. 

All was going fine. I was able to get my own place about a year later and began building a life for my kids. I decided that finishing my degree would be the only way to do that. Considering I was raising 3 kids and working full time, online college would be the best option. 

So I researched different schools, applied to a few, and determined which university would best fit my life and my long term goals. I chose my university and got started. Many people said I would never finish. That I would drop out just like I have in the past. 

Well I didn’t. I pushed myself through days without sleep, nights of research and discussion posts, and weekends of fine tuning academic papers. I was determined by the pride I saw in my children’s eyes. I was motivated by their wishes for a bigger house with a private yard. I worked my brain to the point of exhaustion. My body ran on coffee and dreams! 
This past weekend, our dreams became a solidified reality. The first step towards the life we want was recognized. With my family there, I walked the stage at my commencement ceremony. Not only did I finally earn my bachelor’s degree, I earned it with honors. Out of 271 bachelor’s candidates, only 12 earned honors recognition. I was one of those 12. I earned my BS in Psychology with a 3.97 GPA. 


I know my family was proud to see that up on the big screen. But I had no idea that the emotions my children felt were so strong until after the ceremony. When I exited the building and searched for their faces through the crowd, I became discouraged when I didn’t see them exit. I began to walk to find them when my Dad found me in the crowd. He informed me that everyone was waiting out back for me and to hurry!  

As I turned the corner, my children ran to me with open arms and tears streaming down their beautiful faces. My Dad was able to snap a few candid moments. Here is my favorite. 


Nothing was more powerful than those moments when my children held me tight, crying, and offering up their congratulations. They stated how proud they were and how happy they were to see me on that stage. I still cannot look at the pictures without crying. I told everyone I would finish this time. And I did it! With honors. 

~Kristen