Crohns

So for the last six years or so I've had a disease called Crohn's.  It wasn't diagnosed until this past year and one of the doctors put me on a steroid.  Not only does it make my hair fall out, it also causes lack of appetite.  Normally with Crohn's I will get what we call and "episode" where I have intense stomach pain, throwup alot and have to be near a bathroom.  Usually I can't keep alot of food down.  Another attack today, but I managed to luck out since my parents out of town for the day.  I hate when they see me go through it.  Not to mention my mom will probably take me to another doctor and switch meds.  I'm so tired of seeing doctors when nothing ever changes.

In high school during my sophomore soccer season I weighed about 150 pounds which is a decent weight for someone as tall as me.  Now I'm down to about 120.  People comment on my weight loss and say "Oh, you look great," as if I've done this on purpose.  Other people have accused me of having an eating disease and that couldn't be further from the truth.  Add in depression with the Crohn's attacks and it is overwelming.  Since I was put on this steroid this fall, I've had four or so "episodes".  While the pill may lesson the amount of episodes, it doesn't make the disease itself go away. 

Okay, can't type anymore. Hope I make it to the trashcan....

Drained

Number deleted.
Facebook deleted.
Memories can't be erased.
Heart won't stop aching no matter what I do.

Equals:
Night spent crying until my tear ducts dry up and I can't cry anymore.
Crying while my whole body convulses.
No one to turn too besides God, but I can't feel Him right now.

Culture stamp of approval

Today is my last day at the art museum.  Ironically I chose to work 7 hours today :)    The summer going into my freshman year, my high school art teacher asked if I wanted a job right away in the fall.  Of course I said yes and interviewed with the museum.  This is the only on campus job I know that lets the employee work on homework the entire time.  Throughout my year years in college, I've worked there for eight semesters.  Its were I've sat for hours at the front desk doing lesson plans and reading.  This post isn't about all of that though.

My boss commonly hired international students since my freshman year.  It's been mostly Chinese and Saudi Arabian students.  This year there was a new addition with a graduate student from South Africa.  Never before I come across such cultures.  I can't even tell you how many hours I've spent talking to the students about their cultures.  At one point, my Saudi Arabian friend Ali and exchanged questions about each other's cultures for about three hours one day.  I've learned about how women are treated in the Middle East and what an arranged marriage is like.  One of the guys even married their third cousin.  Talk about weird right?  But when you sit down and hear about what it's like to be in an arranged marriage, I have to admit that it does have its perks.  Actually, it is logical and practical.  Sometimes I think that Americans could learn alot from this different culture.  I've learned about the Chinese government and  met a student who was the second child in her family.  This brought up the topic of the Chinese one child policy and the fear associated with it.  This job not only gave me a place to do homework.  More importantly it gave me a chance to become more culturally aware-which alot of education classes attempt to teach. 

First aid kit- check, Shovel-check

     So I attempted to do this earlier, but my internet died.  Here are some updates from the last week.  After I came back from college on the 18th, I told my parents about everything that happened.  Didn't go like what I hoped for, but I would have reacted the same way my mom did.  My parents want me to see a counselor before the spring semester starts up, but that probably won't happen until January.  I do have an appointment with my main doctor next week though to talk about the depression.  Guessing that she'll recommend antidepressants-which I've been trying to avoid the last couple of years.  Nevertheless, I'm willing to do whatever it takes to get my life back on track. 

     Living at home is hard.  There is no other way to express that.  I'm so used to being independent and for the most part on my own.  I can't even begin to describe how weird it is to eat dinner with others.  And that it's in between 5-6 each night.  So weird!  I'm so used to grabbing random dinners by myself most weeknights because of my night classes.  This is going to take awhile to get used to.  Dealing with my sister has proved to be the other hardest part.  I simply cannot get used to her chatter.  Yes, I remember what it was like living with a sister with ADHD growing up.  Just didn't imagine me being 22, her being 25 and having to deal with it.  We've developed a code word to tell her to be quiet.  And yes, it is nicer than "Shut up" thank you very much.

     Although my "bad thoughts" have mostly subsided, I still came to one conclusion: My heart still aches.  I've been trying to deal with it the best way I can by turning to my faith and trusting God to the fullest.  It's like that camp song about the hole in the ground-can't go over it, can't go under it, can't go around it, have to go through it.  Earlier this fall, I buried my heart.  For so long I had worn my heart where everyone could see it.  Now it was raw, tattered, and bruised.  It was kind of like one of those scraps you get as a kid when you fall of your bike.  Time, a bandaid, clean water and love heal all though, right?

     Like I said, my heart is buried.  It is in a concrete box buried under a million pounds of sand.  Thank goodness for faith though..  I''ve been getting daily devotions from Ransomed Heart Ministries, kindly recommended from a new friend.  A recent devo said something from the book Desire, "Desire cannot live without hope. Yet, we can only hope for what we desire. There simply must be something more, something out there on the road ahead of us, that offers the life we prize. To sustain the life of the heart, the life of deep desire, we desperately need to possess a clearer picture of the life that lies before us."  While I know that God's plan must be hidden, this still gives me hope.  Hope that makes me think that each day God helps to shovel a pound of sand to help unbury my heart.  I'm not alone.  One day together God and I will unearth that concrete box.  One day.

Minute by Minute

Every day for the last four months has been a struggle for me.  Just getting through each hour is hard enough and then to put it all together into twenty four hours-it makes my head hurt to even think about it.  The best way to put this for everyone that isn't aware is that everything has been rough.  My entire life plan changed in a matter of minutes last September.  I wasn't in a relationship anymore.  This hasn't happened to me since high school.  I have never been alone in that way.

I always had a significant other to rely on to hold me when I got sick with a Crohn's episode or to complain to when classes sucked.  All of those things are gone.  Nothing can get them back.

Then, my whole life changed again.  I got accepted into the last round of interviews for Teach For America, a program that places people in low income areas to teach.  I focused all of my energy into that, a small part of me hoping that all of my heartache would go away.  It didn't.

Everything changed for a third time.  I thought my heartache had gone away.  I still had no desire to go to class or honestly any appetite.  I tried to put all of my trust in God that he had a better plan for me then I ever could build on my own.  I pretended to my friends and family that everything would be okay.  Then, one day when I was home I attempted to do something very bad.  But, God said that it wasn't my time to go yet.  I have too much to live for.

Got back to school and finally told a few friends about what I did.  Putting into words is the hardest thing I ever had to do.  It made it all seem so serious and ridiculous at the same time.  I'm NOT the kind of person would do something like that.  I'm supposed to be the kind of kid that helps people in need-not the one that NEEDS help.  Word got around, two friends sat down with me while I called the counseling center.  Bottom line, I know I won't ever do something like that again.  Getting people to realize that has proved to be difficult. 

People tell me that I have so much going for me. Student teaching, graduation, endless job possiblities.  What they don't realize is that in the end while I was looking at the bottle of pills in my hand, I wasn't thinking about any of those.  I was thinking even though all of those things are great, those aren't what mattered to me the most.  Love.  Giving my parents grandkids before they grow too old to remember them.  Finding that one person that God made for us to be together.  THATS what mattered to me.  But, as I stared at those pills, He told me that I have too much to look forward to.  Romantic love isn't meant for me at this point in my life.  One day it will be, just not yet.   Even though I may not know exactly what His plans are, just knowing that He has a plan for me makes the difference.  Now, just to live my life, a minute at a time.