Climbing My Mountain

Wednesday, August 26, 2020


Two months ago, I could barely stand, let alone walk, for more than five minutes. Sure, I had fluke occurrences when I could walk through a store one in awhile, but I would pay for it dearly for the following week or more. For at least 10 years, I went undiagnosed with inflammation and cycle issues -- both caused chronic pain and made my body a barely functioning prison. I started having issues after my second pregnancy, so I broke down and went to a doctor, who refused to help me. All he heard was "depression" and dollar signs lit up in his eyes. I had to bend his arm just to get a blood test to test my thyroid, which came back as normal. All he did was throw antidepressants at me, accused my husband of being unloving, and shoved me out the door. Unable to pay for another doctor, I gave up and accepted my reality: I was big, I was in constant pain, and there was nothing I could do about it. Because I hurt, I sat. Because I sat, I gained weight. Because I gained weight, it put more strain on my body. It was a horrible, vicious cycle I thought I would never be able to break. As my weight soared, I lost more and more freedom. I didn't fit in booths at restaurants. I couldn't walk through a store. I had to use a shower chair to bathe. Nothing fit. People stared. I missed out on time with my family. I just couldn't keep up. The pain -- mental, emotional, and physical -- was too much. I stayed home. I isolated myself. I was unable to exercise with any consistency because my body would seize up after one or two light workouts. I started to worry about my overall health. My depression worsened, as I faced a bleak future. Would I even make it to 50? Or would I finally give up completely and be successful with my next suicide attempt? I was angry, sad, and hopeless. I didn't even bother praying about it, because I figured it would be selfish and pointless. But God knows the desires of our heart, even when we don't ask for them. Long story short, He put the right doctor in my life at the right time, who diagnosed me properly, put me on the right medications, and, most importantly, gave me hope. He gave me my life back. For the first time in 10+ years, I'm not constantly hurting, I'm able to workout consistently (have been for the past three weeks), my cycles are under control, and I'm gaining mobility and freedom more and more every day.

Today, I walked a mile on the elliptical -- and not on the lowest setting! For me, that's HUGE, considering not too long ago I couldn't even walk to the kitchen on my bad days! At 425 pounds, the mountain before me is daunting, but I'm motivated to do whatever it takes to work it off. I know this will take years to accomplish, but today -- today I feel strong and proud. Today, I feel happy and hopeful. If you know me, that doesn't happen very often. I hope this encourages someone today. Someone who's facing their own mountain. God brought you here, God can bring you through it -- in His time and on His terms. Struggle and humility grows faith and gratefulness. Hope is never lost with Him. I'll pray for you if you pray for me.

 
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