Curled up, fetal position, I lie on the bathroom floor. My knees are pressed against my chest so tightly that I’m sure I’m breaking my ribs. The pain sweeps across me in waves, all at once stabbing, burning, clenching. Each time it subsides, the relief of being able to catch my breath again is pure bliss like I’ve never felt before. Just as my body starts to relax, though, another wave hits; this one, far more powerful than the last. I fight back tears. To give in to the tears feels like admitting weakness….acceptance of this life and its limitations.
I bet most of you had no idea that I have Crohns’ disease. You probably didn’t know that it was triggered by a car accident I was in – one that has left me with permanent muscle and joint pain and limitations. I don’t talk about it much. It’s not that it’s a big secret exactly…it’s just that it’s not the face of me that I want people to see and remember. And, well, then there’s the “ick” factor. People, understandably, don’t like to have conversations about bodily functions.
They don’t like to know that when I travel, I have to map out my route carefully, ensuring that I know where to find a bathroom at all times. This is me. This is my life.
They don’t want to know that sometimes I go without food for 2 or 3 days at a time because there is no way I can consume anything without getting violently ill. This is me. This is my life.
They would be shocked and horrified to know that there are times when I am out there, on the internet, being the social media manager, the ninja retweeter, Facebooking fanatic, and Queen of Pinterest (as I’ve been called by friends), all while sitting on the toilet. (Yep, I said it.) This is me. This is my life.
It’s so difficult for me to admit any of this. It’s embarrassing. It’s humbling. I don’t want you to see me as weak. I don’t want you to see me as sick. I don’t want you to feel sorry for me.
What I want you to know is that even though I live with all of this and more, when you see me smiling and laughing, that’s not fake. That’s 100% genuine. These realities are only parts of my daily life, just like brushing my teeth, taking a shower, and combing my hair. Right here, right now, I am owning them but they aren’t what defines me. They are a part of what makes me strong, of what makes me a hard worker, of what makes me smile and laugh and appreciate every moment of every day. This is me. This is my life.
Beth Zimmerman says
Very well written and makes the reality of Crohn’s Disease so much clearer!
I was in an accident 5 years ago that left me with chronic pain. I’ve literally had a headache ever since. You learn to adjust to your new reality but it’s not always fun.
I wrote a post once about chronic pain and depression (they feed off each other) and the point that seemed to strike home most deeply with those who read the post was that my smile didn’t mean I didn’t hurt … it meant I was choosing joy! I hope that the people in your world understand that truth!
Jasmine says
Dude. I don’t have Crohn’s and I do most of my social media stuff on the toilet 😉 You have nothing to be ashamed of. Thank you for sharing.
Natalie Z says
While I don’t have Crohn’s, Celiac disease has some similar uncomfortable bodily function issues that make it awkward to deal with, talk about, etc… I definitely don’t see you as weak. You are amazing! Just remember that what doesn’t kill us only makes us stronger!
Staci says
I have a 9 year old daughter that has struggled with chronic constipation for over 2 years. I have watched her cry out in pain and spend hours in the bathroom. It is beyond impossible to describe how much it hurts me as a mother to see my child suffer. I understand your pain.
You are both courageous and amazing for sharing such an intimate side of who you are. Congrats for taking that leap.
JanetGoingCrazy says
Jasmine’s so right that we all do this social media stuff on the toilet. Sometimes when I’m at home (or out in public with my family), that’s the only way I can get it done.
I don’t want to make light of your pain, however. You are so strong to put words out there to describe what you are going through. There have to be other people who will feel less alone when they read this. Thank you.
Kelly @ Texas Type A Mom says
It sometimes seems that our bodies are fighting against us and winning. Pushing through the pain, just goes to show that you are in control and don’t have to let Crohn’s take over your life.
Jamie says
This really spoke to me! I was born with a disability and it’s why I’m in a wheelchair. It’s all people see in relationship to my health (well, except for the obesity and they get all up in that business). What they don’t see is that I battle 3-4 auto immune diseases and those by far take over my life, my emotions and my health more than being born with a silly hole in my spine. I have struggled with undiagnosed, weird gastro-intestinal issues for about four years and it’s wearing on me. People don’t believe me. Or they can’t just leave me alone when I don’t have logical food choices. They ask questions and it drives me insane. Or they try to sell me stuff and that just pisses me off.
Thank you for making me feel less alone.
Rebecca E. Parsons says
Oh my dear friend…Bless your heart. I am sending healing energy to you…