Not sure if anyone out there will read this, but here’s hoping someone might find it helpful or interesting. I’ve been wanting to write it for a long time now. I suck at writing anymore. I never make time for it, even though it’s all I really want to do.
Anyway, it feels good to be sitting here with my cup of coffee in my newly redecorated room, typing away.
I wanted to pop in to say hello again and to let you know after 10 months of suffering from scary pelvic pain, I am better.
I think…no, I KNOW…people who have no experience with pelvic pain hear that and think–huh. That sucks. But how bad can that be?
Before I had it, I had never really heard of pelvic floor dysfunction. I had no idea how or why someone would get chronic pelvic pain. And given the fact that I’ve always been a physically healthy person, I figured I was immune from ever getting something like that.
I was wrong.
Turns out I developed chronic pelvic pain created by stress and anxiety. I had what they call a hypertonic pelvic floor, meaning my muscles that compose my pelvic floor were constantly clenched until they went ballistic and started spasming. Which, if you can’t imagine what that feels like–ever have a Charley horse in your leg? Or a muscle spasm in your back? You know how that kind of pain knocks the wind out of you and brings you to your knees? It’s the same thing, but in the muscles that surround your nether-regions.
Yes, it’s as fucking horrible as it sounds.
Just thinking about it freaks me out. My pain was so bad for so long, just remembering it now scares the heck out of me.
I went from being someone who woke up every day and did a million + things to someone who woke up and instantly thought–I don’t want this day to begin. And I’d stay in bed, sometimes all day. Because I was afraid to move. I was scared to death of the pain. I was scared of the idea of always being that way–sick and unable to do anything the way I used to and afraid I would never feel better or happy again.
I thought life as I had always known it was over.
I had a very hard time talking to anyone who wasn’t my husband or my friend who understood and had true sympathy for me. Everyone else didn’t understand, didn’t care to understand, and my tolerance for people wanting things from me–even if it was just a conversation with the “old Susan”–was non-existent. I mean, if they couldn’t help me, or even just shut up and listen, I couldn’t have anything to do with them. I was envious of people who felt fine and were able to take their lives for granted. I resented people who only wanted me in their lives when I could be the funny girl they were all used to. I know I freaked a lot of people out when I got sick.
I was no longer the girl I used to be. And I thought above all else I really wanted to get back to being that girl. Little did I know, my brain and my body set me on a course to intense discoveries and changes I didn’t even know (or more like didn’t want to know) I needed.
Anyway, I have to stop tip-typing away here and start getting ready to go to my in-laws to visit for my father-in-law’s birthday.
I’ll come back soon to tell you more about this experience I’ve been through. I know there are people out there who suffer with pain every day like I used to. I’d like to put my story out there so people know they can get better. I know when I was sick, I spent all day and night online, trying to find some sort of hope and camaraderie for what I was going through.
I’ll also talk about fun stuff here because I love fun stuff and today I can enjoy fun stuff once again.
Speaking of fun stuff, I’m off to do all kinds of it today. So I’ll talk to you again soon.
Before I go, please enjoy a picture of my dog. This is what it’s like for me every time I try to do…well, anything.
She’s cute though, huh.