For the past few weeks, I have felt on the edge of tears, almost always. I'm not sure why, but cried it out today in the shower. It felt good, to be relieved of all the tears, but they didn't go away like I thought they would. I'm definitely a crier. I cry reading books, watching movies, seeing "mushy" commercials. But this was different. I'm with my favorite people on vacation, I don't have to work, I feel OK physically, I've been sleeping pretty well, I can't figure it out.
I assumed hormone fluctuation, as always, but usually that comes and goes pretty quickly. This has been at least 2 weeks, probably more. Of course there are more stressors over the holidays, but we've settled into a routine. Maybe I have Cushing's again. Maybe my questionable rest tissue is working and giving me cortisol highs. Maybe I'm feeling the lows after the highs. Who knows.
The past few days, on vacation, as everyone is re-introducing themselves and asking the basic questions about what you do for work, where do you live, (FYI - my least favorite questions). I told everyone about my job triaging phones, and someone asked if I was a nurse. False. Not that educated. Where do I live? At home with my mom. Not in Boston, not even on my own in Plymouth. With my mom in Plymouth. I hate these questions mostly because of my answers to them, but also because the answers to these questions give people no insight to what I've been through, no idea of how much I have accomplished, no sense of the battle I fight every day to stay alive and well.
When people ask these questions, I feel like less of an adult. Less than everyone else. I posted this in my support group this morning, along with a quote from a book I was reading. "You don't get to choose if you get hurt in this word, old man, but you do have some say in who hurts you." - John Green. My supporters and teammates in this awful disease built me up again, I am a survivor, a fighter, stronger than anyone that I feel less than. All of them have been through exactly what I'm going through as someone who looks healthy on the outside, but feels less than 100% most of the time.
I hope the tears will pass, and that I won't make a fool out of myself here in front of all of my friends. I have to remind myself that I am not less than, but equal.