Lyme Disease and life expectations.

I have a friend that lives far away who says she gauges (somewhat loosely, I assume) the level of my current state of happiness on how much I have been blogging.  You see, I love to write.  I wouldn't say I am all that great at it but it's cathartic and it helps me to process the things that happen in my life - both good and bad.  Lately, however, everything that I would like to write on this blog comes to me as I am trying so desperately to fall asleep.  

Both of my grandmothers as well as my own mother have embraced their late night sleeplessness, using it to map out our ancestral tree, finish a great book, pray for their families or simply clean and organize their house.  Me?  Absolutely not.  I wrestle the beast of sleeplessness, defying it's power to keep me tossing and turning until I am exhausted from tossing and turning.  Often, I will recite the same sentence or paragraph multiple times before I'm able to move on to counting my breaths (a tactic I have used for quite some time to help me fall asleep).  I'm sure you're thinking, why don't you just get up and write it all down?  And sometimes I think the same thing too, but when you know the alarm is going to go off early the next morning whether you've slept or not, you fight like anything to get as much precious sleep as you can.

Point being, there is much that I have been wanting to say and share but even though I have seemingly brilliant epiphanies that are so eloquently worded as I am falling asleep, whenever I actually sit down to write, it's all gone.  The feelings are there; the frustration, the joy, the confusion, the excitement - they are all still there.  But the words are gone.

So I resort to pictures.  

Lately my thoughts and energy have been consumed with all things chronic Lyme Disease.  Upon the initial diagnoses, I was relieved - elated, even.  To have an answer after having searched for answers for so long seemed unreal.  It was as though 75 percent of the burden had been lifted off of my shoulders.  The physical symptoms I had been experiencing remained but the ever persistent thought that I was slowly becoming crazy (crazier by the hour, even) was no longer valid because I was given an answer to my question.  I floated around on cloud nine for quite a few weeks after my diagnosis - I felt I had been given the magic key and I only needed to start compiling the tools for my tool belt so that I would be ready and able to fight a successful fight.

Don't get me wrong - I am still happy to no longer be in the dark but in fighting chronic Lyme there are no guarantees, the treatment options are widely controversial and the fight is long and hard.  Many have been able to regain their previous lifestyle (oh, what I would give to go on a long run or an arduous hike or out to a social gathering without the accompaniment of the symptoms I suffer from) but not without a difficult fight.

And this is where I begin to freak out.

How does one pull themselves up by the bootstraps in order to fight?  I don't speak about my faith very often because I'm often worried about offending others.  And I don't appreciate hypocrisy.  When I am doubting His promises on my own time - who am I to write about them as though I have confidence that they are legitimate?  I was raised in a religious environment that did not appreciate bringing forth the heavy questions of faith and spirituality (this was my school/church; not my parents, just to clarify).  Instead, you were supposed to just recite one of the many verses you had already memorized and believe it to be true.  I'm not condemning the memorization of scripture as it has been uplifting and encouraging to me at various points of my life but as I look back on the practices I was taught when growing up, I can now clearly see why I so often approach God like he is a leprechaun and if I get lucky, he just might grant me my wish du jour.

All of this to say, I know I have a mountain up ahead of me.  Maybe many.  And plenty of hurdles to overcome on those mountains.  And it's complicated, because when your husband is in medical school, you're the one that is going to have to keep a job in order to put food on the table.  I'm not complaining, please don't think I'm complaining.  I'm so proud of Casey's accomplishments and I am happy to be his partner in this endeavor but I'm freaking out when I think about the mountain.  I've done this my whole life > one tiny problem becomes the World's Biggest Problem EVER in the History of Humanity.  So I have to figure out how to trust His promises and allow Him to navigate my healing (physical and spiritual; what an epiphany!) journey.  Without thinking I am at the whim of a giant leprechaun.  

Writing in a blog can be so frustrating.  I catch myself censoring my own words and thoughts because I'm afraid that someone will be offended or think I am shallow, etc.  I have intentionally tried to make my blog be a happy place.  I know this post is not happy.  I know chronic Lyme is a subject most people cringe at when brought up in conversation.  If you've made it this far, thank you for taking some of your time to see where I am at right now.  Over the course of my healing process, I am sure there will be both joy and excitement as well as frustration and confusion (such as today) to share with you.

Casey tells me to keep an eye out for the pot o' gold at the end of the rainbow.