Am I lazy and going crazy? Is it the pain in my body or is it because I feel off in my body? Lord, I tell you guys, I would fall asleep often. Now, don't get me wrong—Angelic can sleep anywhere. I remember being in the 11th grade at Military Camp. We had to wait on the side of the road for something, though I don’t recall what it was for. Honey, I said, “Shoot, this is a good time to take a nap.” I laid down on the sidewalk, curled up in a ball, and was knocked out right under the sun. I was happy, comfortable, warm, and got me some Z’s.
Fast forward to recent years—I can still fall asleep easily, not abnormal. Sleeping at my son’s practice on the field, at the movies, anywhere I could. But this sleep became less about rest and more about drowsiness. It wasn’t the same. I didn’t think much about it at first. I just thought, “I’ve been busy working and running around, so of course I need more sleep.” Maybe I was drowsy because of my life.
I really started to feel lazy. People would say, "Angelic, you are far from lazy," but that’s not how I felt. Lazy was the word. So I tried to fight my sleep. Funny enough, I couldn’t sleep at night. Later, I found out what that was from—again, my trauma life. Not only was I fatigued—what I thought was just being tired—but I was also forgetting things. Who doesn’t forget things as they get older? Normal, right?
When I tell you it was bad. That, with the blackouts and dizziness—now, I’m going crazy. I’m having all these feelings in my body, my head, and I’m at the end of my rope. Yet, I didn’t stop moving forward. I’m not complaining. I’m pushing past the fog because I know what I can do. I’ve gone through so many schools with brain fog and dyslexia. That’s really what I thought it was. Yes, I’m dyslexic. I know what you’re thinking: "Damn girl, what don’t you have?" LOL. A MAN! LOL. Oh well.
I was trying to finish my doctorate, and I was all over the map. All this stuff going on—working, body rejections, in school, raising my son, and taking care of my niece. Who has time to complain? Not me. I have things to do and people to take care of. Not to mention the joint pain. It would come and go, but I worked out—normal, right? Shake your head up and down for YES, Angelic, normal. Well, you know that butterfly was flapping its wings so hard that some days I couldn’t move. Call me Captain Pushing Past the Pain, because that’s what I kept doing.
I am the almighty Angelic—LOL. Man, I was feeling like I was going to die some days. Who do you know always smiling, loving people, not wanting to kill herself, but feeling like you’re dying inside? Some days I would cry because I honestly thought I was going to die. All I knew was that I had to complete whatever I was doing to show my babies that you can achieve anything you put your mind to, no matter the circumstances. You push, make good decisions, create balance, and do it with a smile. I had to get my son out of high school and onto his next step in life. Then I knew he’d be good. I wanted to get my niece around good people and encourage her to see the best in herself. I wanted her to see her talents. If I could achieve these two little things, then if I go, I’d know I did something and left a legacy with them.
My butterfly has pushed me over the edge. Now I’m fighting. I’m fighting myself and trying to hold it up for me and everyone else. Them—my family, me, clients, everyone. I have to find out what’s going on. I’m mad. I’m mad I can’t fix myself. I’m mad I can’t get well. I’m mad I can’t, I can’t, I can’t. I’m a good person. Why do I have to go through this? Why do I have to leave people I love? Why do I have to die alone? Is this it?
I wish someone could help me. All the professionals say I’m fine, but I know something is wrong. I know it. I had to have a real talk with myself. Am I going to give up? No, I said. I’m going to leave gracefully and love, spread even more love, live and not just exist, and be happy no matter what happens. Allah has got me no matter what.
When I had that conversation, I remember sitting on the couch in my den watching TV. I wrote down everything that was going on in my body, even things that didn’t make sense. And nothing made sense. I wrote it down anyway. Then I started Googling. I read up on everything going on in my body. Then I created a schematic. I used the drawing to put things together. I started with two things, then added more as I researched and read. I began to draw lines—mind mapping. Everything was pointing to Hashimoto’s. What the heck is Hashimoto’s?
I read and read. It was pointing to hypothyroidism. I read stories and researched. At the end, I had a full schematic that all pointed to Hashimoto’s (hypothyroidism). In my next post, you’ll find out about my journey with doctors and the journey I went on to see if my research was spot-on or spot-off. This butterfly had to stop flying with a broken wing. At this point, I wasn’t sure, but I was on a road I’d never been on before—a road that could finally give me some answers. I didn’t want to die or even feel like I was. Until next week, folks.
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