Do or Do not there is no trying, only cattle prodding

As pulsating pains throb in my head, I wonder why the sudden onset of more symptoms; electric pains, chest pains, dizziness, high heart rate, and this odd sensation of, waves of pain filled numb tingles that pulsate from head to toe. It's like my heart isn't getting enough blood to my hands as fast as it needs to. The last is the oddest and most worry some symptom to deal with tonight, as it is just so incredibly painful and confusing. It started with cold numb tingling in my hands, and grew to a hard to describe feeling over this past week. Its like this painful tingling sensation that seems to pulsate, but not like a regular heart beat it goes, fast a few times and then regular and then fast again; but at the same time it   feels like when a phone gets fuzzy and I feel like sometime I feel my own body cutting out on me.

I'm light-headed and dizzy when standing or walking, which isn't unusual for me but seems a lot worse recently. The other thing troubling me is these really sharp stabbing pains that come with out warning, stabbing my lower right side and chest.... I suppose I should go in to the dr. but I'm having a hard enough time concentrating on anything, or focusing on things. So as I type my thoughts out forgive me if I get scatter brained...I feel a tad like a cow that needs prodding to move or do anything. My husband and I were watching this show on discovery channel about how they transport cows on big boats to get them to other markets in other countries. During the show you see the cows getting loaded on to the boats and as the cow rounds the corner off the truck and looks at the ramp on to the boat, theres this stubborn ox look that says,"Oh, hells no!" or "you expect me to go up that!HA!" and then the cow starts reversing his arse backwards into the truck bed. Thats how I feel when I'm flooded with pain as I open my eyes in the morning...or parts of the day as I endure the constant pain. On the show the australian cowboys start hollering and prodding at the cattle all the way up the boat. As I watched it was a very interesting show but I couldn't help feeling as though I could relate to those cows all week. I'm on as much tylenol and pain killers as I can be on but, it's not even close to enough. So, in both hope and desperation I continue to my search, scanning the internet for what the doctors are missing.

As well I continue to try to push past my fatigue and pain and have attempted, a bike ride this past weekend. I was excited to be on my bike in general as I haven't other than in the living room when I attempt to exercise. (explanation, we have a stand it fits into and is held up like a stationary bike, the wheels just spin. So you see I do not bike around this tiny place like a weirdo! he he) Any who, we threw our bikes in the car and took them down to Fort Langley where theres a very pretty trail along a river. I started out with my husband enjoying it but, about halfway I was in so much excruciating pain we had to take breaks as we turned around and headed back. Although my pain reared it's ugly ugly head, I count this as a win for me as I tried my best, and that's whats important at this point. When we left the house this morning we talked with our neighbours before getting in the car and heading out, and  I was asked how I was doing and if the doctors figured it out yet. This is a weary question as it's been 4 years of us no answers and although I am trying to accept that I'm going to deal with this for a while, any way I look at it I cannot accept my doctors conclusion: simply that we may never know. I thought it was hard choking down this pill that I'm living in awful pain that causes constant visits with specialists and the dr.'s I know by name in the ER. But accepting not ever knowing what is going on in my body is just beyond cruel, I mean its that dark thought in the back of my head, I don't say it out loud for fear it'd make it more real...my acceptance at this moment can only be stretched so far. Like a rubber band if stretched to far I may spring back to being frustrated with even having to accept that I can't do what I want to, as in get out of bed or go hangout with friends without being half distracted by pain. I'm not telling him, he's mean when he says that and that Im mad that it sounds like he's giving up on me. Because thats mean, there's somethings you just don't say to someone dealing with high high amounts of pain on a daily basis, it makes it seem as though your sorry to tell me this but your really not, cause your bored with having me in and out of your office so often. Doctors need more tact I think, but so does the world. At least I can still say I get up each day, even when everything hurts and I try my best to do the most that I can. Some days the most I can is very little but others it's a bit more, like I mopped our house yesterday and I even cleaned the walls too! Okay true I pushed to far and ended up hurting, but I kept trying and went on the bike ride when I thought I felt better, which made me sicker. But the point is I tried and that is a feat in it's self when dealing with pain. With chronic pain of any sort, you can say what you know you can do; but it changes from day to day that the next you might not be able to and then have overcommitted yourself. And on the other end, you can say you can't handle doing things like going hiking, or biking, but unless you keep trying every now and then you might surprise yourself. It's important to keep trying, as often we can get stuck in a rut when we stop trying. Some accept that there in pain and can't do anything they want to too easily, they stay in bed or stop trying all together and that's very sad and understandable. As it's not easy mentally to deal with pain chronically, I get that, but don't lose hope or sight of trying because then you lose so much more than just your ability to do things. I know it's hard and I know very very well that it hurts but, I'm not taking this lying down and neither should anyone else.

Simply put giving up is the easy way out, trying is hard. When I can't plan my future, because I can't tell you what pain level tomorrow may bring, and all I know is this constant pain, this constant struggle, it's not just hard. Hard is an understatement. But that's always where faith steps in for me, I can't see the future, to say if I can handle having kids someday, I can't even see a few months ahead. I don't know if I'll be able to keep going through school to follow my dream of being a crisis counsellor, I can't say how I'm going to get through classes, I can't book a vacation in advance cause I can't say I'll be okay for it. Day by day it's hard, but each day my goal is simple and consistent, to try.

On another note, Sigmund Freud (1856-1939) was an Austrian neurologist who founded the practice of psychoanalysis, a system espousing the theory that unconscious motives dictate much of human behavior. He was a large support of atheism, similar to Jesse Ventura, former governor of Minnesota, who once said, “Organized religion is a sham and a crutch for weak-minded people who need strength in numbers.” Agreeing with him is pornographer Larry Flynt, who commented, “There's nothing good I can say about it [religion]. People use it as a crutch.” Ted Turner once simply said, "Christianity is a religion for losers!" Ventura, Flynt, Turner, and others who think like them view Christians as being emotionally feeble and in need of imaginary support to get through life. Their insinuation is that they themselves are strong and in no need of a supposed God to help them with their lives. The odd thing however is although there are famous people who view religion in general, not only christianity as a crutch, it is interesting and at least very notable that I have never heard of any famous people of whom suffered in life, and also held these same views. It's interesting how vocally against religion, faith, and God, people can be when they are doing well or having a normal good life.

My question is what do they do when they find out they have cancer, or untreatable disorders? Do they rally for the right of euthanasia? Or how else do they deal with a life of suffering and chronic pain? It's well known that when a guy comes into rob a bank, when buildings collapse, or more recently a guy goes into a movie theatre and shoots people, in these moment people cry out to God. Maybe they're not religiously specific and I don't think thats what matters, the point is they cry out to whatever they believe is out there. Contrary to Freud, I believe that this may be because some people have an illusion that if life is good and they have no need for a God, they do not find religion appealing. However when illness, trauma, or crisis enters their lives they cry out, to 'a' God. This idea of an illusion is more that they live happy lives without him and therefore don't need him, until crisis enters at which they proceed to get mad at 'a' God or cry for help to him. The illusion being that they are kidding themselves, this makes me wonder if deep within every human we take in the awe of the world and cannot deny that there is a divine design. I'm inclined to believe this because, when I study the anatomy of the brain I cannot help but be in awe of how intricate it is. I can understand people getting angry and turning away from God, or denying his existence based on his lack of being more like a genie, or which ever they believe justifies their choice, that's for them to deal with and work through. But, I have a very hard time understanding how people can be atheist, when divine design is all around them. What is their reasoning for the way their pain sensors send message to their brains telling them to pull their hand away from a hot kettle as they touch it. Even scientists cannot duplicate these pain sensors in a glove form to help lepers as it is too intricate and complex a design. (Philip Yancey goes into depth about this in his book: Where is God when it Hurts?) However, I'd be especially interested in learning how atheist deal with this issue of suffering...here, comedian Dane Cook raises a valid point to me in his joke,

"He sneezed. debris's floating every where. Now at this point, I'm disgusted. And I'm grossed out by it. And at first, I'm thinking 'I'm going to go off on this guy'. And then I decided, 'Wait a second, Dane. Don't do that. Take the high road. Try to be polite'. So I turn to him and this is what I said. I looked at him and I went: 'Uh, God bless you' I say 'God bless you' by the way when someone sneezes. I don't say 'Bless you'. I don't say that because... I am not the lord. I can't do that. I'm just a messenger for big guns upstairs, you know what I'm saying? And I never go with 'Gesundheit'. I don't even know who says that. If I say 'Gesundheit', I feel like I'm honoring Hitler. Like I should be like 'Gesundheit!'. I end up on the History Channel 'cause a guy sneezed. 'God bless you'. This is what the guy comes back with. Here's where it starts to get out of control. The guy looks at me and very condescendingly goes: 'Uh, yeah. I'm an atheist'. What a jerk, right? I'm trying to be polite. I don't know you're an atheist. And even if I did, what am I supposed to say when an atheist sneezes? 'Uh, yeah, when you die, nothing happens'."

Another interesting question that is worth mention is how other religions explain the reasons for undeserved human suffering. (undeserved because most feel some people deserve what they get) So perhaps next post I'll think more on that but for now there's an interesting article on it. http://www.beliefnet.com/Faiths/2005/01/Why-Bad-Things-Happen.aspx

~ElysiaB

A day without a perdurable is like a day without sunshine

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As I read this book review that mainly feature's the author Lous Heshbusiu's journey, I feel as though I am all too familiar, with all that she reports chronic illness to be.  Perhaps it is because of the raw state of pain at which I sit in bed with today, or because her account of chronic pain is so true for so many. David Biro wrote the review based on her 2009 book, Inside Chronic Pain: An Intimate and Critical Account. When your dealing with a disorder that no one can see, or fully understand, it is so comforting to read a positive account from another who has gone through a similar experience. It's as rare as finding gold, to come across not only someone who's felt as you do but, someone who has written about it.     

Despite its morbid subject matter, there are ways to turn illness narratives into compelling reads. One can ratchet up the drama and suspense (e.g. Frigyes Karinthy’s A Journey Round My Skull and Jill Bolte Taylor’s My Stroke of Insight). One can fill the narrative with deep insights (Oliver Sacks’s, A Leg to Stand On and Arthur Frank’s At the Will of the Body). Or one can aim for the lyrical brilliance of poetry (Anatole Broyard, Intoxicated by My Illness and Sarah Manguso, Two Kinds of Decay). In her new book, Inside Chronic Pain: An Intimate and Critical Account, however, Lous Heshusius chooses none of these strategies. Unlike Tennessee William’s Blanche Dubois, she will have neither romance nor magic; she wants to tell it like it is.
A courageous tack, clearly, since the reality is downright uncompelling and ugly. In a moment of inattention, the Dutch-born education professor now living in Canada was blindsided by another car as she pulled away from a stop sign. In that moment she exits a rewarding life, professionally and personally, and enters what she imagines to be ‘Hell’: constant, often paralyzing pain; endless visits to doctors and other health care providers (over 60 in all) who offer few answers and at times make the pain worse; and increasing loneliness as her world retracts inward and she becomes progressively isolated from friends and family.
This new life has lasted 11 years so far, she tells us in her memoir, and is still going. The living-hell of chronic pain is not something anyone would willingly choose to enter, even perhaps vicariously as a reader. It corresponds to what Arthur Frank (1995) termed a chaos narrative of illness. As opposed to the more comforting restitution narratives, such tales offer no happy endings or redemption, only darkness and stasis, a life resistant to meaning that will never get better. No wonder that others prefer to keep their distance. At a dinner party while Heshusius experiences a flaring of pain and could barely hold herself upright, everyone pretends nothing is wrong, even Heshusius herself: ‘We all took part in excluding me.’ The reality is just too painful to acknowledge. 

I think sometimes it's easiest, to pretend nothings wrong because the bitter truth of how you actually feel is sometime to hard for words to tell. Like right now, it's easier to type feelings to a blank page, than to go out tonight and actually say how I really feel. Some times it's just as simple as not wanting to hear the truth, myself, apart from telling another person. I find theres a large difference from being able to sit in bed, and go through the pain rather than speaking about it. Yet, not speaking about it and not having anything else new to say create a void between the person in pain and everyone else. That's a void I must admit I have trouble with, sometimes it feels painstaking trying to connect with another person, especially when I already feel alienated by the pain. 

And yet this is precisely why Heshusius’s book is so important. I used to think it was just doctors who turned their backs on patients they could no longer ‘help’. But the problem is much bigger, involving society as a whole, particularly in the West. As Susan Sontag (1978) noted a generation ago, the healthy will do everything they can to keep ‘the night side’ of life at bay. We are so obsessed with youth, health, and progress that we have no time for (or interest in) age, illness, and death. Yet for those who can’t escape the night side’s hellish precincts, the prevailing mindset is toxic. Pain by its very nature is a subjective, private affair. It’s difficult to think about, let alone communicate to others because its content is imperceptible and elusive. As such, it emphasizes the separateness between people (Biro, 2010). The problem becomes even worse, however, for patients like Heshusius in which there is no visible wound or lesion on a CAT scan. Now the issue is not merely one of unsharability (which is bad enough) but also unbelievabilty. How can someone possibly be in such severe pain when there is no tissue damage, no reason for it? The result is an echoing chamber of pain. Doctors, all but a few pain specialists, don’t have adequate training and experience, as Dr Scott Fishman notes in his excellent clinical commentary at the end of the book. When their materialist paradigm is turned on its head (pain without a physical source or without a fixable source), doctors are stymied and tend to prescribe medication indiscriminately or refer patients somewhere else, prolonging the endless cycle of suffering. Colleagues, friends, and family members, they too are often ill-equipped and skeptical. And even when they try to understand, their imaginative powers typically come up short – ‘What do you do all day?’ is a question that Heshusius is asked over and over again. Inevitably, the need to turn away is felt by the sufferer herself. Looking at an old photo one day, Heshusius is filled with grief: ‘I like this woman. I want to be her. How did she slip through my feelings?’ (p. 26) For many chronic pain patients like Heshusius, the alienation from others and from oneself, coupled with the belief that the pain will last forever, leads to a desire to end life – ‘How often have I wished I could lie down and simply die.’ (p. 3) Heshusius cites a recent article in the medical literature showing that among chronic illnesses, chronic pain is the second major cause of suicide after bipolar disorder, and ahead of depression and psychotic disorders.

"What do you do all day?" is too common a question, that the sufferer feels obligated to fulfil with productive events. Yet, I doubt an expectable answer is  "I dealt with pain all day!"  but it is the honest one, for most. The kind of pain that you often compare to wounds from weapon, stabbing pains, electric live wire shooting pains, throbbing pains, burning pains...etc. That is what I deal with all day, sure I try to be productive too, read a book, knit, do chores, exercise. But if I have done nothing but lay in bed, please excuse the lack of productivity. As it is because, it was all I could do to keep myself from going into the ER and begging to be admitted. 


As I read those last few lines of the review it resonates within me. Recently, the leader of my old small group from my youth days, posted pictures on facebook from when our group was younger -- I find myself looking at old pictures and it's like I travel back to those feelings of although less energy still energy that I had. I see that girl in the photo and she looks like a different person, that only resembles me. I like her! I want to be her again! With friends and energy, always having invitations to go out and have fun. I miss that girl, because slowly somehow I lost her, as I lost invites, as I lost touch with friends, as I faded in to the background. The grief of losing who I was, or wanted to be, does not feel past. But, as losing someone you were close too, their memory is always there. It's hard to be okay, with something that is not okay. The feelings are as hard as the pain, and it's maddening. 

Thankfully Heshusius doesn’t take this route and manages to find some measure of relief from pain which she desires to share with others. She urges her fellow sufferers to take an active role in their well-being – by not accepting what a doctor tells you, by willing you to keep changing doctors until you find the right one, and by doing your own research even when it leads down unconventional routes. This approach led Heshusius to prolotherapy, which though far from a cure, and certainly not a universal one, has helped her considerably. In addition, chronic pain patients often can no longer count on the old ways of finding pleasure and hope; since the past is gone and the future bleak, they must focus more on the present:‘here’ is the only place where I can really be. ‘This is it.’ Only this. Now. This pain above my left eye. This thought. This fear. The beauty of the music. The softness of this fur purring against me. The steel in my neck. This lying awake. (p. 39) Finally, in a world that makes no sense, patients must learn to create some sense and purpose for themselves. Heshusius does this by writing down her thoughts and later formalizing them in a story – a story that will hopefully contribute to the eventual lessening of pain as it reaches out to other sufferers (you are not alone) and informs the healthy (this is what we do all day and your ignorance and neglect makes our existence all the more intolerable). The Mayday Fund recently reported that there are now 70 million chronic pain patients living in the United States. Yet despite the alarming number, these sufferers and their disease are almost as invisible as their pain: in the genre of illness narratives, in medical school curricula, and in research funding. Let’s hope Heshusius’s courageous and empowering voice helps change that.

Sometimes it may seem silly that we do our own research into our symptoms as it is a doctors job, but I agree that it is important. In our technology era, often doctors are undereducated on new medical advances as they are already pressured for time and over booked. Looking into our own symptoms helps us find new resources and possible conclusions. The past is gone and the future does look bleak, so this last point is important, to live day by day. Our day's are all different, as pain does not schedule when it's going to join you.  Thus, it's the joy in the little things that we must relish as others who are healthy do not take time for them, when they can be what makes my day. When the sun is shining it is a moment to enjoy, and take note of, when this purring warm lump in my lap sits with me it's also a bright comforting moment to smile about. 

~ElysiaB

Book review http://www.davidbiro.com/media/HEA364709_Rev2Biro.pdf

Lous Heshusius, Inside Chronic Pain: An Intimate and Critical Account, Cornell University Press, 2009; 167 pp.: 978080149

Reviewed by: David Biro, State University of New York, USA

Health XX(X) 1–3 © The Author(s) 2010 Reprints and permission: sagepub. co.uk/journalsPermissions.nav DOI: 10.1177/1363459310364709 http://hea.sagepub.com

References

Biro DE (2010) The Language of Pain. New York: WW Norton. Broyard (1992) Intoxicated by My Illness. New York: Fawcett Columbine. Frank AW (1995) The Wounded Storyteller. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press. Frank AW (2002) At the Will of the Body. New York: Mariner Books. Karinthy F (1992) A Journey Around My Skull. Budapest, Hungary: Corvina Books. Manguso S (2008) Two Kinds of Decay. New York: Farrar, Strauss & Giroux. Mayday Fund Report (2009) A Call to Revolutionize Chronic Pain Care in America: An Opportunity

in Health Care Reform. www.painreport.org. Sacks O (1998) A Leg to Stand On. New York: Touchstone. Sontag S (1978) Illness as Metaphor. New York: Farrar, Strauss & Giroux. Taylor JB (2006) My Stroke of Insight. New York: Plume.

Advances in healthcare, not today but maybe tomorrow

So for the past week I've been feeling a bit better than the weeks before which I am very thankful for! However I was not so lucky, a few nights ago, when I awoke from a severe burning pain on the right side of my chest, every time I took a deep breath it hurt more. It was like the pills I took ripped out a hole to connect my chest and lung, needless to say it was unusual pain and a hard type to get back to sleep from. So I lay pushing on it, praying it would go away...what a start to a day. Finally it hurt too bad and the Tylenol didn't work so I had to resort to my last half of a Valium. Which although I'm thankful I took it and it worked like a dream (haha cause it put me to sleep), I can't help but feel worried because the Tramodal is not nearly as strong or effective as the doctor said it would be. So in an attempt to get off the strong drugs, I have not taken the Tramodal for 2 days and nothings changed. Which makes me think that I was right, and it wasn't helping at all just polluting my body with chemicals.

As I have been in more pain these last few months, I have been watching my church, Northview online at the link below: http://northview.org/messages_comments/the_gift_of_suffering_for_jesus_sake/http://northview.org/messages_comments/joy_in_pain/

Northview has been doing a series on pain, titled "an uncommon joy". Through which, they've provided biblical views on why people suffer. In this service a little girl who suffers from a skin disorder sings with her dad a cover of "your hands" by JJ Heller http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FlL8LayF0uw. 

In the song the first part of lyrics she sings, 

"I have unanswered prayers, 

I have trouble I wish wasn't there, 

And I have asked a thousand ways, 

That You would take my pain away.

I am trying to understand
How to walk this weary land
Make straight the paths that crookedly lie
Oh Lord, before these feet of mine

When my world is shaking
Heaven stands
When my heart is breaking
I never leave Your hands

When You walked upon the Earth
You healed the broken, lost, and hurt
I know You hate to see me cry
One day You will set all things right
Yea, one day You will set all things right"

Though I feel the same way as those first few lines, I find understanding why I must go through this is not my problem. I mean I don't fully understand, my situation and the circumstances, but I understand the christian doctrine and theory as why suffering is allowed. My problem is that although I understand the theory it's incredibly harder to put that theory into practice. It's one thing to understand how to build a house and a completely different thing entirely to attempt building a house. The problem is that knowledge and understanding don't take the pain or hurting away, they don't build the house alone. There needs to be action, and that is hard. Joy is not found in the suffering but, it can be found in everything else. So that is what I try to do, to focus on other things, like how much fun it is to play with the kittens we have. They're 8 weeks and we've given two away but still have three. They are so rambunctious, climbing up and down the bike in the entry, while fighting each other. 

Another great thing is that I finally got to go for an appointment with the fibromyalgia specialist's intake counsellor. All that happened was say 15 minute long answering basic questions that almost all specialists get you to fill out, to determine your previous and current states of health. Yet, the counsellor told me that this doctor is known for diagnosing pain disorders within a few appointments. I wonder if it's because he can always fall back on fibromyalgia (which is basically undiagnosed pain as there is no known cause) as the cause if nothing else is found. But, regardless I'm trying to be hopeful that he will find something that is causing all this. 

Also it is good to read that there are great advances coming in the health world as the mayo clinic has a very interesting article on teaching the immune system to fight cancer. That would be huge, not only for those with cancer but also for anyone with an autoimmune or other disorder, because if they can teach it to fight cancer why not Hashimoto's, or Lupus? So it's good to know that there is always hope out there. 


Other research that's of interest is that the mayo clinic is also coming up with a vaccine for cancer.


Though researchers are getting closer at helping patients, I think God is behind them pop-ing the ideas into their heads. Kinda like when my family is discussing where to go on the weekend and I say,"we should go to grandville". And then two minutes later my sister says, "I know! we should go to grandville!"  as though she thought of it all by herself.    :) 

~ElysiaB  

  

Holding on to the end of my rope

What am I going through? Where is my head at? Well I was told that the doctors and specialists will probably never know whats happening to me with all this pain and that I'll have to deal with it and continue to stay on high drugs. My doctor also mentioned that other patients have gone through this and eventually it got better, or at least it is more manageable for them. My head is a hard place to be right now, and I don't want to be stuck like this.

Having random episodes of blood curdling screaming pain, that I know no one can do anything about...well its just heartbreaking, it's no way to live. Using up the absolute limits of strong pain killers (dilotted, to morphine, or tortal, and now tramadol) and sedatives (valium to Ativan). Life's complicated and I'm trying desperately to hold out with hope and faith that everything will work out. The facts are against me when I can no longer go back to emerge as I have truely puzzled them, my own doctor seems to have given in to the idea that the cause won't be found, and so I am now left helpless to go through severe pain alone.

It's as though I'm in the worst car crash and people slow down to look as they pass by, everyone just stands around and watches, muttering that its too bad, or that they wish they could change it. It seems as though I've been frozen in not only a car wreck but a major car pile up. The first car hit me in the thyroid, then another screeched into that car imprinting chronic pain, neuropathic pain, and fatigue into the mess of cars. Then from another angle came whatever unknown disorder or new form of extreme pain spinning out of control and hit from another angle. All the while I get smashed up harder, and harder, to deep in the pile up to get help. Will the rescuers ever come? How can the operator of the Jaws of Life just stand there. Why can no one do anything. Why me? I feel as though my life is becoming more and more obsolete. I feel banged up the majority of the time, and then with severe on set of pain episodes I feel like a dog that its just too cruel not to put down. The episodes feel like the pain may actually kill me, and no one can do anything about it, I'm left to just lay there, kicked while I'm down and take it.

It's hard to have conversations with other people when your day consisted of being in bed, may be a walk or two, and a possible outing from which I almost always come back sick. No one wants to hear the continuous of how much pain I'm in, and I can't blame them. I know that my God is good and I trust him. I know the doctrinal reasons for suffering, and yet it does not help make it easier to go through. I think sometimes you can know all the right answers to your questions academically and still not understand and be frustrated on an emotional level. And thats okay we're allowed to be frustrated and not understand, it's whether you hold on to your faith that matters most in those moments. Which is the hardest thing when going through suffering. Its easy to tell someone suffering why God allows it, It's easy to tell them their story will make a difference and to just pull through. But on the other side of that conversation, suffering while listening to these answers get old fast, and the encouraging "your story will help people" bit gets harder to believe. My heart feels heavy because not only is it that I'm the only one feeling this pain I'm also the only one having to push through it. People who say those things mean genuinely well, they really want to help, and sometimes hearing that helps. But five years later as the road gets harder and darker, it gets harder to listen to, as its hard enough to hold on to that last bit of hope your fighting to keep a grip onto. It's like dangling from a building hoping the rope wont give out, you can lean over the edge of the building and tell the person thats dangling they'll be alright but your not dangling with them, your not desperately trying to keep a grip on that rope. So you may have to just be there and understand when your words are not enough. However the person dangling on the rope, holding on till help arrives, knows that hypothetically in this scenario if they fall all hope they hold on to may fall with them. Thats a harder conclusion to come to. I'm thankful for faith, and a God that's big and just. I realize that there is a reason and I understand that suffering is a necessary cost. I understand that to gain your life you must lose it. Which I used to take literally and therefore not grasp the concept, but it does not always mean you must lose your life literally but like Jesus through self sacrifice. An example would be through Joni Erikson's suffering people have come to know God. Through the apostles journey's many came to faith. None of these people understood where what God was doing in the moment but held strong to this deep rooted faith in the God who sees beyond our small timelines. They did not understand why they were going through their suffering, yet they held strong to faith something they can not see, but are certain of. This is the same faith I cling to as I go through these days some darker than the rest.

Today is only a touch brighter than yesterday, and it may be a long time before I see any healing or brightness, but I do not question the one who made me. Today, I awoke like every other day too the shooting pains throughout my body, they've worsened as I got to start my week by enduring the dentist pulling out two teeth and doing filings on the others. You know how when your in a mass amount of pain and your whole body tightens or clenches and you bite down on your teeth,...well they eventually get damaged. As my mouth heals, my body is once again shook up from the surprise pull of teeth and thrown back into strange pains.

Today I feel like no one understands what I go through but then I feel guilty also. Guilty because just as there are always people better than you, I know that there are also people dealing with a lot worse things than I do. I suppose that's a good thing for people to consider when you start getting down about your circumstances. I wonder perhaps not only can your suffering be a witness to others but it's also best to focus on perhaps helping those in worse situations than yours is the best way you could help the world around you.

It's interesting to look at suffering in the bible. As in the old testament if god was to punish Israel there was always a warning and they always knew why they were being punished. This cause me to question those who say suffering is due to sin because it's confusing then. Why would god warn them and not us unless it is not for punishment. Some interesting verses to look at below.

~ElysiaB

So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen.  For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.
                                                                                2 Corinthians 4:18
My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.  Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weakness, so that Christ's power may rest on me.  That is why, for Christ sake I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecution, in difficulties.  For when I am weak, then I am strong.
                                                                           2 Corinthians 12:9-10To obey is better than sacrifice.
                                                                            1 Samuel 15:22