Walls.
Have you ever built them?
Around your heart, brick by brick, piece by piece?
December 7th I was diagnosed with Muscular Sclerosis. I handled it all with confidence, peace, and a scary level of stone cold, “I’m fine!” to all I’ve talked with. The truth is, I actually have felt ‘fine’ about the diagnosis. It gave me answers as to why so many different instances my ‘skin hurt,’ and it explained why and what my extreme nerve pain was in November. With the best MS team and an aggressive treatment plan, I have felt “fine.”
Suddenly though, I was thinking really terrible things. Things I don’t even feel comfortable typing within this blog post! Most of them centered around my marriage and for his sake, I’ll keep it as vague as I can here for my husband. We had some things come up, arise, and somewhere within me I just felt like giving up. In the past couple of weeks I have said some really hateful and hurtful things; my shortened version will just be transparent about the fact that giving up was legitimately ON my radar. “What if I just wasn’t here anymore?” was one of my scary to admit thoughts.
I told my mom I didn’t think I could cry. Other than with my extreme post spinal tap migraine, I really hadn’t cried. I told her that I’ve had zero reason to feel the way I’ve felt and definitely to have said the things I’ve said, and then it dawned on me……….
Walls.
Within each time I thought about my MS, and every time I told someone I was doing well and fine and good, I was adding more bricks on and around my heart. In the past couple of weeks, I have felt more annoyed as a mom than I can ever remember. I’ve also felt very unhappy in my work situation and being split schools. When my mom has asked how I am, I’ve respond back, “Everything is just meh right now, Mom. All of it.” Gray. Dreary. Muddy. No, I’m not just describing the way January looks in Kentucky—that’s how I have felt internally.
Oh the difficult conversations Asa and I have had. The tears shed, the nights we did indeed need to go to bed angry with hopes of trying again tomorrow. I haven’t wanted to be touched, I haven’t wanted to be hugged, I have wanted to simply be left alone, in my own little brick bubble.
And then? Realization happened. I have always been prone to creating walls. From a young age I have self-sabotaged lots of things, and sadly have hurt people by doing so. (Just ask my ex boyfriend from high school how I ruined OUR relationship…or maybe, actually don’t.) Psychology Today actually describes a lot of different forms of self-sabotage. There’s a paragraph there that discusses control, this may help you the reader, understand it a little more.
It feels better to control your own failure rather than face the possibility of it blindsiding you and taking you by surprise. Self-sabotage may not be pretty, but it’s better than spinning out of control. At least when you’re steering the ship, going down in flames feels more like a well-maintained burn.
Control / failure…two words that pretty accurately describe my ongoing fears, well before MS. I’ve written about fear of failure SO many times here, you may even remember. With MS, what control do I have? Think about it…I was given a serious new diagnosis, I was shown the multitude of lesions on my brain, and then……..I’m fine? “Going down in flames” is a part in that paragraph that describes how I have felt like navigating life. Asa, my patient, loving, gracious husband—even described to me that instead of working on this a little at at time (specifically an area in our life we need to work on), I’ve wanted to just blow it up and quit. He wasn’t wrong.
Walls.
I have had so many of you reach out to me and DM or text. While I haven’t shared super openly what I have been feeling, lots of of you just know:
“Hang in there. Absorbing and processing a new diagnosis takes time. Give yourself all the grace”
It’s only really BEEN a couple of weeks since I have started feeling the familiar feelings of self-sabotage. Asa and I have had some really great and needed quiet moments though, and have talked so openly about this new to ME feelings of nothingness. I don’t think I can ever say that I’ve struggled with depression, but I guess in a sense, I’m walking through it right now. While at the barn I didn’t even feel joy…I felt annoyed with the mud, the amount of time to groom and clean up and do ALL the hard work; but it never has felt like work to me before now? It’s been my therapy, my happy, my peace. So where to from here? Well, my only option is up. For my kids, my husband, my career, my horses—UP.
Recently I could have stayed in bed and just slept. It was the kids’ screen time, a Friday night when they are allowed to stay up later. I contemplated just not moving…just lying there, in the dark. But thank God I made myself get up. That was not who I wanted to turn in to, that was not a chapter of my story I wanted to start writing.. so I swung my feet onto the floor, called out to Reese and played a handful of card games with her. I promised myself I would be strong for them, for all of us. I know that within my strength, I am struggling.
But I also know that with time, prayer, positive actions, and repetition of doing things that I know are healthy for me, the walls one by one will come down, brick by brick.
Thank you for being here in this space and my life. For praying for me and with me. I plead with you to stick around. Don’t let me or my walls keep you out or away. And to my husband, thank you that within your choosing me, you are loving me so wholly and purely.
