Monday, October 25, 2010

Honestly

Let’s just be honest.

I get up anywhere from 5-6AM during the week to train clients. I put on a smiley face and move as much as possible. I spout off motivational quotes from athletes that have endured heavy training and obstacles. I tell them to never, ever quit. I encourage them to look to their goals.

But in my mind, I want to quit. I wake up fighting it almost every day. My body hurts. They can ask me how I feel, and I just say, “ok” because I don’t want to look weak.

I feel like I have nails drilling into my side. I feel like I am being pressed against a wall of sharp pins when I move and when I lay still. When I walk or attempt to jog, I feel like my guts are going to come out. I know this all sounds disgusting and morbid. I agree.

Where does the line of perseverance end and the line of stupidity begin? How do I know when I’m pushing myself beyond what the body should be doing? Because to be honest, I feel like a failure no matter what I do. I feel like nothing is good enough right now. SO I keep pushing and pushing and pushing, but I’m left frustrated, in tears, and laying in bed.

I tell others that God is with them. I tell them to believe in His promises to never leave us. But I feel like God has deserted me. I feel like my prayers and cries are unheard. How do I know that God can hear me? How do I know that He hasn’t left me when I feel so alone?
~Psalm 102:1-3

How do I know the difference between when I’m just being weak and when I’m supposed to rest? How do I know when I’m supposed to jog and when I’m supposed to sit still? Because it hurts either way. When I jog, it becomes intense. I get to the point where I cannot stand up because of the pressure and pain that digs into my sides and pelvis. Right now, that is my line. That is the point that I go to before I stop. Before I decide that I’m supposed to rest....because I have no choice.


I had surgery almost 3 weeks ago. And everything within me wants to pretend like I’m feeling great. I want to shrug off the pain and tell the world that I’m “fixed”, that I’m better now.

But it hurts even when I try to fake it.

Why does it still hurt? Shouldn’t I be feeling great after another surgery? Shouldn’t I feel awesome now that the doctor removed every growth he could find? Shouldn’t I feel amazing now that my organs aren’t stuck by adhesions? Why am I still limping around in pain and crying? What is wrong with me?

Reality: I know it’s because this is a chronic disease. I know it’s because the doctor probably did the best he could do, but he can’t cure it. I also know it will most likely get worse the next month or so when the Lupron invades my body (the first shot was hell for me last time, but then it got better). I’m not trying to dwell on this, but I know this is why it still hurts. I’m trying to make myself stay positive, but to be honest, I want to quit (side note: I am NOT in anyway talking about quitting life!!!)

Just like my clients in the past have wanted to give up when they hurt or when fatigue sets in, I want to give up. With my mouth, I tell myself to keep moving, keep pushing, keep trying. But in my mind, I want to stop. Because it hurts. It hurts so bad that I can’t live the life of activity that makes me happy.

Does that make me a hypocrite? To know that inside I really want to give up when I tell everyone to keep pushing?

I tell myself that this is just a stage. That it will get better. I will get stronger. And I know that is true. I know it because I have been through this time of pain and sadness before. I know that I have survived surgery and drugs, and brought my body back to life. I know that I can get through this obstacle.

I just don’t want everyone to think that I’m weak. I don’t want people to think that I’m “milking” this pain. I’d do anything to move and be strong. I wish I could be back on my bike and running.

I MISS MY LIFE!

Is it hypocritical to want to give up when I preach to others to endure?

And does God really love me, even now, or has He has shattered me into a million pieces only to look away?


Listen, God, I'm calling at the top of my lungs: 



      "Be good to me! Answer me!" 
   When my heart whispered, "Seek God," 
      my whole being replied, 
   "I'm seeking him!" 
      Don't hide from me now! 

      You've always been right there for me; 
      don't turn your back on me now. 
   Don't throw me out, don't abandon me; 
      you've always kept the door open. 
   My father and mother walked out and left me, 


      but God took me in.

~Psalm 27 (the Message)

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