Alien Teen Girl Blog :/

Dear Endometriosis,

I have truly nothing to say except, fuck you.

Fuck you for ruining the life I thought I would have and wanted. Fuck you for ruining friendships, school, work, everything. Over the past year and a half, my body has been under attack. Small amounts of endometrial tissue growing in places it should have never been. It touched every aspect of my life, like a dark rain cloud hanging over my head during the years I should have finally felt freedom.

On February 27th, I finally had my laparoscopic surgery. During the surgery they found endometriosis and a twisted colon. After years of asking for help, I finally got the answers I needed. The endo was removed and my colon was put back where it belonged.

I don’t think anyone truly understands what it’s like to have a painful chronic illness at 19 years old. Every day I would wake up in severe pain. New symptoms would appear constantly, with no rhyme or reason. To say I was scared is an understatement. I still do not feel fully safe in my body.

I would be bedridden for weeks at a time with extreme pelvic pain, vertigo, exhaustion, and so much more. Getting up to take a shower felt like running a marathon. I went from being the girl who went to school every day, loud and silly, playing sports, always hanging out with people, to nothing. It felt like something snapped. One day I woke up and the life I knew was gone.

Trying to explain to the people I love why I dropped out of college, why I couldn’t come over, why I couldn’t go to parties or just exist without pain and fear, it was heartbreaking and confusing. Some friendships will never recover from it.

The loneliness and isolation were their own kind of pain. I laid in bed and watched everyone I’ve ever loved move forward with their lives. I was so happy and proud of them, but oh how I wished to be in their shoes. I wished I could have been at college, partying, meeting new people. Instead, the only new people I was meeting were doctors, many of whom didn’t believe me.

To those who never believed me, the biggest fuck you to you.

When the bubbly girl you once knew disappeared before your eyes, and you turned your back because it was easier to ignore than to listen and understand—fuck you. To the doctors who said it was anxiety, nothing, or made up, fuck you.

Pain is not made up.

The anger will probably never fully leave me. I still feel it deep in my chest. How could you not listen? How could you not care?

But to the people who did listen, especially my mother, thank you.

My once big support system is now small, but mighty. Seeing people go out of their way to show up for me, to make time for me and my health, has filled my heart with so much love. I will never be able to repay that.

It is now about two weeks after surgery, and my pain is already better. Yesterday I woke up and cooked breakfast. I sat on my deck and cried. I used to pray just to be able to move, cook, and live without pain again.

I looked up at the sun and realized that maybe the rain cloud is finally clearing.

Maybe it’s finally my turn to start living again.