I’m tired. Like really tired, and not just because I don’t sleep well.
I’m tired of being poked and prodded. I’m tired of seeing doctors that can’t help me. Doctors that tell me they don’t know what’s wrong with me, or that there is nothing wrong with me at all.
I’m tired of pills, medicine, and treatments. Nothing works. I’ve tried so many different things… even physical therapy but it hasn’t changed a thing.
I’m tired of not feeling well, with this symptom or that. Every day it’s something else. My head still hurts every day, and sometimes incredibly bad. I sat on my bedside a few days ago at 3 o’clock in the morning contemplating going to the emergency room; they weren’t much help the last time I was there so I suffered through it like I always do.
I’m tired of suffering. Not knowing when it’s going to end. Will I ever be okay again? Will there ever be another season in my life when I am not feeling pain compounded over pain, let alone just one single breath with no pain at all?
I’m tired of doctors that keep throwing around words like anxiety and depression. How would they feel if they woke up sick one day, believing it would pass, but it doesn’t. And every day they keep waiting and hoping that the next doctor will have the answer or a solution to help them feel even an ounce like their old self? Grieving is not the same as depression, and being anxious just seems to be part of this whole ordeal with chronic pain.
This is a side of me that few people get to see. I’m hurting just like everyone else in this world. I don’t know what my future looks like. I have all of these dreams, but I don’t know which ones are God’s will. And I don’t know if I will ever be well again. That’s the most daunting question of all, and all the faith in my heart doesn’t seem to be enough to keep that question far from my mind. It’s always there, like a child repeating themselves over and over again until they get what they want.
Still, I wait and trust, giving everything I have to God because I have nothing left. I find myself draped over His promises, spent from exhaustion. Only He has the strength. Only He can carry me through the most trying times of my life. There is no use trying to do this on my own, no use trying to carry my own battered body down unfamiliar streets to search for a cure on my own. Where has that gotten me? What have I gained from all of this? Nothing I tell you, nothing.
I don’t know where God will take me from here but I do know one thing. I will not be alone. Through all of the pain, uncertainty, and upset, He has been there with me. He has carried me at every moment I couldn’t do this anymore. He has lifted me at every moment my body and faith have given out on me, despite my best attempts to keep everything together. And He will continue to be with me, only this time I will let Him do most of the walking and let His strength carry me.
“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” Matthew 11:28