On the cusp of my forties, I was just beginning what would be a decade long battle with ulcerative colitis. I was fatigued, losing blood and scared as hell of what the future held for me. I was struggling to work and do much more than just survive. I ended up taking 6 months off of work (thankfully I could get a 6-month leave when I worked for the government) hoping that would restore some health. It didn’t.
Ulcerative colitis continued to be front and centre. I was hospitalized twice in an 18-month period once because the disease was trying to kill me and the second time because the cure was worse than the disease. Add in 5 years of being bullied at work and I was a mess. I was on anti-depressants for the first time in my life. As well as a major dose of another anxiety drug. I needed to sleep a minimum of 12 hours a night and if I didn’t get it, I had a hard time functioning. Finally in August of 2013 I was off work and not sure I would ever get back.
Fast forward 16 months (not much tell about my time off work because I barely left the house) and I realized that my dream of working for myself was never going to happen. I lack the motivation to do anything unless I have a deadline. I just couldn’t impose them on myself. When I decided to start looking for work, I had to make myself work for 10 minutes on my resume per day. Thankfully it didn’t take last long and I was applying for jobs. I started one in January of 2015.
Now on the cusp of my fifties, I feel better than I have in years. I no longer need 12 hours sleep at night. I actually woke up this morning after only 8.5 hours. My hemoglobin is steadily climbing out of the low territory it has inhabited for years (anemias of chronic disease was the official diagnosis). I am almost off one of my anti-anxiety meds with no increase in anxiety episodes. I have been noticing these little changes and daring to hope they were going to add up to something big. And here we are.