Sigh…Breathing in so deep trying to rid that feeling of fucking defeat is gut wrenching. Chest weighing heavy with the deep breath in, trying to hold it for a second, but yet it seems to be so hard to take a deep breath in. Yet it still isn’t enough. Do you ever just feel so fucking defeated no matter what you do? Like the world is crumbling around you, but not really, but it is & you just can’t grasp it fast enough before it crumbles. Yeah? No? Well okay then. If you don’t or haven’t, do me a solid….let me in on that secret of yours. I promise to pay it forward 💁♀️
The amount of times I’ve heard “take a deep breath” is exhausting. Figuratively and literally. Suffocating, walls closing in, chest unbearably tight. The struggle is fucking real trying to find the answers as to why. Approaching the year anniversary from a surgery that was suppose to help significantly, but yet I’m struggling. Struggling to breath, struggling to understand, struggling to accept, struggling to stay focused, struggling to control the anxiety. The fucking struggle is real.
The words are nearly impossible to put together. Guess that’s why I haven’t written in 9 months. The aggregation, but yet the acceptance, combining the two….you guessed it, fucking difficult. Roughly 2 months ago I noticed my breathing was staggering & routine tasks were becoming more difficult. Assuming it would go away I waited about a week to call my doctor. I use to think the way I felt was “normal”, now the smallest symptom change results in the routine of test & doctors visits. Shit, a few weeks later and it still wasn’t improving. Sweaty palms, night sweats, anxiety, constant nausea I knew something was wrong.
Panic set in, the attacks were constant, the worry became too much to handle. Testing, bloodwork, cardiologist visits were routine again. So, we’re talking post surgery, roughly a year, my heart has had questionable moments. Damn heart rate, can’t you stay controlled. Resting around 130, add exertion to it & well, yeah, it sky rockers. Obviously not what a cardiac patient wants. Sure, let’s add another medication to the list of 20 pills multiple times a day.
Alright, cool. Problem #1 is seeming to be somewhat controlled, here & there anyway. Now to the breathing issue. Welp, stress test was a bust so now what do we do. My numbers (numbers where they determine transplant qualified or not) have declined by 50%. Expected? Sure. Wanted to hear it? Hell no. More blood work, medicine tinkering, surgeries? What’s our solution? Solution. Funny word isn’t it. Isn’t a solution suppose to give us some relief? How much relief do you really get hearing the words “Heart Transplant” often. Here we go, tinkering with medication, monitored closely, appointments out the ass, bloodwork constantly, & the infamous word “heart transplant”. Don’t rush growing up…should’ve listened to that saying more. 33 is rough, anxiety is off the charts, responsible for everything, single mom of 2 children that are full of life, 2 children that deserve to live their lives as kids, constantly on the go, but yet having to be mindful of any slight changes within my body. What if, what if something happens. My kids, how will my kids get thru something like that. How can I prepare them, but they don’t deserve to worry. This is my mind, constantly. The exhaustion is real.
Sometimes it’s simply okay to not be okay. Doesn’t always mean negativity, depression, suicidal thoughts, or they’re down a deep dark hole. Sometimes it just means we’re struggling. Guess what, that’s fucking perfectly okay. Mental health is crazy important that it’s sickening how over looked it is, but even worse it’s looked poorly upon more often than not.
Does this post make me vulnerable? Well, of course it does. Is that okay? Yes! Yes, it’s perfectly okay to be fucking vulnerable at times.
We become so fixated on having to be great all the time that we fail to look around and see that there’s real struggle amongst us. Struggle within ourselves, our friends, our family, ones that claim to love us. Not being able to have control over something is one of my biggest obstacles. I’ve accepted my condition, but there’s still times I question if I truly accept it wholeheartedly. There’s even times where I’m in certain environments unsure of how to act because I’m scared if I were to become symptomatic what would happen. Sitting under the steaming hot shower crying some days because I don’t have the ability to control or change my illness. Those few moments can take over my entire day. If you were to ask me my biggest insecurity it would be hands down my heart condition.
Lesson learned. Never judge a person by their smile & laughter ❤️