A Repugnant Beast

 A lot of things have surprised me as I have struggled to move forward after my lymphedema diagnosis. There have been good surprises and bad ones. Whenever I have stumbled, Team Eeka has always been there to catch me. I am amazingly blessed in that. 

I am sharing my story in hopes that it will help someone else going through similar struggles. Whether you are dealing with lymphedema, another life changing diagnosei, or just pushing towards healthier life choices, we need support. We are not built to be solo. We were created to bond and forge ahead together. 2020 has been an awfully hard year to connect with people. Extended isolation can be a scary thing. Make sure you are reaching out if you are needing help and support. Those around you may not know how to help until you ask. 

Today, I wanted to talk about a beast that I have fought repeatedly, that I have lost to, time and again, and how it has reared it's ugly head once more. The big difference this time, is that I have Team Eeka. With support, I have been able to defeat it for the first time. I know he'll be back, but I'll be ready.

The name of the beast is Guilt. One thing I have learned over the years, is that depression and guilt work hand in hand. Either one can be dangerous enough alone, but when they gang up on you, it can feel insurmountable. They will feed on each other and dig you into a deeper and more fearsome hole than you have ever been in before. You can fall so far down that you can't even tell if there is still an opening at the top or if you are completely buried. It is a terrifying place to be. 

The first couple weeks after my initial visit with Dana were bad. I had several days where the depression, the need for changes that seemed impossible, and the guilt weighed so heavily on me that I could not function. Having had to up my dosage of Viibryd twice since the start of the pandemic, I was reluctant to increase the antidepressants again, but I was afraid of where I would be if I didn't. 

I think it was about a week after my first visit with Dana that Guilt stepped in. When I woke up that morning, I was already in tears. I couldn't breathe under the weight. I could barely get dressed and get Livi ready for school, but there was no way I was taking calls all day, so I took a sick day. Dan fed me breakfast and snuggled me, but then he had to get to bed, as he works nights.  

I sat at the kitchen table for a while, just drowning in the guilt. I didn't want to sit alone at home, but I didn't want to drag anyone else down into my bleak maelstrom. I was overburdened enough without adding that extra weight. Finally, I came up with, what in my mind, was a compromise. I decided to call DJ. I figured, if I asked and he was busy, I could just stay home. But if he wasn't, maybe I could stop by and visit him. That way, it was kind of his call, without him realizing it, and the guilt of the situation might not weigh on me so heavily. 

When I finally fought through the guilt and inertia, I called DJ. I'm sure he could tell from my voice that things were not going well. I asked if he was busy, but he said it was cool if I wanted to come in and hang out and play some games. 

When I got to the store, we went to the back room, which is full of empty tables that, every evening before the pandemic, were packed with gamers of all kinds. Today, we were alone. DJ asked what was up and I just started to cry again. It took me a few minutes to collect myself enough to tell him what was going on inside my head.

The thing with lymphedema, for me, is that it is self inflicted. I knew I was gaining weight and not getting enough exercise. I knew that some pretty serious health conditions were in my future if I didn't get things under control. I had tried so many times to lose weight, failing miserably, that I hadn't even tried for several years. If I had taken the initiative, years ago, and stopped this build up, I would not be in the situation I was now. This was, quite literally, all my fault. 

I now have a chronic illness, was using up all of my medical reimbursement account to cover it, was missing time at work for appointments and bad days, and all because I failed to take any action. On top of that, my friends and family were being dragged down with me. I was the center of everyone's attention as we started the journey to get healthy. They were all dealing with this because of my inaction. I had become a major burden on the people who meant the most to me, because I had failed. And there was no way to fix this. What had I done to the people I love?

I don't know exactly what I was looking for from DJ. Maybe an, "it will all be ok." Maybe absolution from the guilt. Maybe just a place to vent. I knew exactly what the situation was and my place in it. These were irrefutable facts. But DJ gave me something I had not expected at all, though I should have known better. DJ gave me a new perspective. 

The first thing DJ said was, "I can't say that you're wrong," and my thoughts were so ready to run away right there. He agreed that my choices, or lack of choices, had lead to the place I was at. But he didn't stop there. He went on to remind me that, "You fucked up. Move on." But then he charged at the heart of that nasty, guilty, beast. He agreed with me again by confirming that yes, I was the center of attention. But he told me that I was the center of attention because people cared about me and wanted me to be around. He said it was not my fault that had happened, it was the choice of the people around me to support me. I didn't know how to respond to that. I had never considered the possibility that people were helping me because they wanted to and not out of obligation to take care of someone who was incapable of taking care of herself. 

That was the first chink in the armor of the voracious beast. I was thinking about this possibility. Trying to come to grips with such an alien thought, when DJ brought up one more point to bring it all home. He said, "The reason you are the center of attention, is because you. are. worth. it."

I was stunned. I didn't know what to say or where to go with that. How could I wrap my mind around that? I don't have a high opinion of myself on the best of days, and today was far from one of those. I don't think anyone has ever said that to me before. I know my family loves me and I have friends who like to hang out with me, but could this really be true? My mind was blown. It was like the lid to this pit I had fallen into had shattered and the daylight was streaming in. There was still a way out. There was hope. I wasn't the bad guy. 

Now, DJ will tease you, and bullshit you, but he was dead serious. There was no grin or hesitation on his face, just full, brute force, sincere, honesty. There was no doubt that he meant every word he said, a hundred and ten percent. 

It wasn't that I was miraculously over it. But DJ showed me that the pit wasn't really as deep as I thought, and he came down with a ladder to help me get back up. I still struggle with guilt, most days. But I have a new perspective. I can see that, for the most part, it is simply a shadow monster created by my depression to keep me trapped. And now, I have a ladder.