Allowed To Break

The last few months of being really physically ill seemed to overwhelm every part of me. My emotions...
confidence...
everything
seemed to take a nosedive.

I felt extremely discouraged when multiple medicines
failed to fix the ailments, frustrated when I went backwards after every slight improvement, overwhelmed as I tried to keep up with work and bills,
doubtful of all my different doctor appointments.

During the weeks I lay in bed as the pain intensified, I became really confused. I wasn't sure what was happening. I felt hopeless and defeated, sometimes even panic-stricken. I couldn't imagine things ever getting better. I worried. I couldn't control my tears, even in front of other people.

Amid all this distress, I began to feel another frustration: I was angry at myself.

My Piece Of Hope

I have experienced a really difficult few months. Actually, for the past few years, I have had a lot of sickness, and this recent spell started in August and hasn't ended yet. Long story short, some severe allergies have caused excruciating reactions. When I haven't pushed myself to try to work, I have been lying in bed.

On top of the physical struggle, I haven't known what to do with my emotions. I typically have a pretty healthy system in place for working out my frustrations and discouragement---going to the gym, riding my bike through the nearby neighborhoods, hiking, working on lots of music and writing...I physically have been unable to do much of that lately. Under doctor's orders not to partake in the great outdoors right now, I've had no nights of star-gazing on my back deck, no bonfires or hayrides, no autumn trips to apple orchards. With my usual outlets stripped away and not knowing how to vent the emotional distress that has accumulated, most of it has simply come out in uncontrollable sobs.