My kitchen floor confession

I write to you from rockbottom.  Well, for me it was the kitchen floor in the arms of my mother sobbing hysterically.  This morning I had a sudden mental break and felt the weight of everything in my life bring me down to my knees, and on that beautiful dark wooden floor, I let out a wail of raw grief.  I have only let out that sounds twice before in my life and it was when I was told I lost a friend to a car crash in 2006, and when I was told  that my beloved grandfather had passed.

The fight with my mother, aka the tipping point of my sanity, was over washing mason jars. Yes people, mason jars. We could9de433482e02812ef90758693580-postn’t agree as to whether or not we should put them in the dishwasher to properly clean them.  It was then and there I snapped and began yelling out “you always dismiss my anger and fears” and after this bizarre quarrel over cleanliness I crumpled to the floor, finally succumbing to the crushing weight of the worries of my life.

After the wailing, tears and nausea, I arose feeling better and lighter. It truly felt like a total body purge, and my entire body felt like it had been bracing itself for this expected wave of darkness to hit me. Well, I made it out the other side and this lugubrious swell that washed over me taking with it everything that I had been hold on to.

This has been the most trying time of my life, it is a great test of unknowns that the universe or whatever higher power has bestowed upon me.  It is t
he unknown of love, career and health, and this trifecta has pushed me so far into the stratosphere of discomfort I cannot even remember what my comfort zone feels like. My body is still raging with bacterial infections, and last week my GI informed me that along with some other bacterial infections in my gut and bladder and God knows where else, I am also playing host to a bacterial strain called H Pylori, which is probably the cause of my digestive issues, nausea, and can eventually lead to more terrifying symptoms such as stomach ulcers and the fun part, stomach cancer. Looks like the endoscopy and colonoscopy was a good idea.  So now I feel like undesired a petri dish with gastritis.

The course of action? More antibiotics of course! Three at once for fourteen days to be exact.  My one year anniversary of antibiotics recently passed last November and it was a very sobering moment of realization that I have been on antibiotics for that long.  Sometimes even two at a time.  Eventually they had to stop administering them since I became resistant to some.  Now my GI wants to put me on three, and that began this sudden spiraling ride into the pits  of despair, one which I am finally clawing my way out of.