I am facing another all time low with adrenal fatigue exhaustion.
I feel myself going under again emotionally. It's truly hard to keep a positive outlook when you feel like this. When every day all you want to do is cry, the minute you wake up. You are not rested, you want to make it black and sleep the day away...if sleep was even an option.
I keep asking myself what I could have done differently. Why didn't I see the signs coming. But in my heart of hearts, I know the answer.
I wasn't listening. I thought it would "all be okay."
It all started the weekend trip I made to Colorado, September 2013. I pushed myself to go walk Saturday morning after my arrival. I wanted the calm that comes from doing my brisk morning walk and the feeling that comes from exercising. I wanted the clutter in my head to go away. I wanted the noise coming from my fears of being with friends and family to dissipate. I wanted my God time, to pray, to talk, to listen. I wanted peace.
I hit the trails. Not 10 minutes down the walk, I remembered I had not used my inhaler. A true must for the month of September and a double important must for the elevation. I thought, I should go back and use it. I quickly talked myself out of that saying, no, that will delay me and cut into my precious time needed to walk, it will be okay. I have been doing well lately, just got back from a vacation and not been sick in some time, I am good. Halfway through my walk breathing became difficult. Difficult became even more difficult. I thought I was going to pass out. I needed water. I had none with me. I turned my Pandora on my phone louder to avoid the thoughts in my head. I talked myself into breathing deeper. To walking slower. To staying focused on each breath. I thought I had myself under control because I managed things and I was able to make it the full time.
I got back to the house initially thinking I was doing okay, but I soon realized that I didn't feel well. I was shaky. I felt dizzy. But the feelings coming from walking overrode the anxiety I was starting to feel and I pushed off any more ill feelings.
I honestly can't remember if I used my inhaler when I got back to the house or not. I may have, I may not have. Either way, the feelings didn't subside.
I ate, hurried to get ready and leave for Estes Park to go to the wedding. The wedding was in an open field. Another not good thing for people like me. But I refuse to stop. I refuse to listen to the voices in my head from my mom about allergies and that I have no business being "in the weed", about how sickly of a child/girl I am, about how if I don't take care of myself I will get sicker, about how my doctor in California always used to say "rest now for a little bit or later for longer", I didn't want to hear those things, I was here to support my girlfriend and I was determined to do so. I made the most of the time...but flying home on the airplane 3 days later, sickness was settling in my chest. I couldn't keep it away, no matter how much I tried.
The weeks since that time, have turned into four months and I have continued to struggle with my asthma. I quit doing my daily morning walks. I was too tired. I had no stamina. Breathing hurt. I needed to keep up my allergy shots so everything else was stopped. I figured eventually I would feel better.
December came. The busiest month of the year in work for me. Its Year End Financial Planning time. It's Accounts Receivable Clean Up time. It's Year End Project time. It's crazy busy and everyone wants everything now. I worked an insane amount of hours the first half of the month, nearly what I do in a full month by the 20th of the month. Then, when I was supposed to have two weeks during the Holiday breaks to be able to work from home and get all the paperwork done and necessary tasks completed, I got sick. Really sick. I was hardly able to work. I slept a bunch. I couldn't even absorb thinking to try to work. I was beyond exhausted. I was frustrated. I was upset.
I tried to do it on my own, treat my sickness with all the alternative methods I could think of. After 6 days, I realized I wasn't getting better and I had to go to the doctor. Now for the round of antibiotic shot, steroid shot and oral antibiotics. Darn. The initial 24 hours I seemed to do the trick and I was much better, then after 48 hours, I seemed to lapse again. My energy seemed to be worse than it was. I didn't understand. I was so tired. What was wrong with me?
I slept all I could. Would work maybe two hours and sleep more. I tried to take a few days and not work at all. I didn't do anything. I wasn't enjoying doing nothing either because I felt like crud. I was crabby. All I had planned to achieve I couldn't get done. My patience with myself was nil to none.
It's been almost 3 weeks since that time and I am in bed at 6.30pm or 7.30pm at night. I am dragging just to make it to then. I can't seem to make it through the day without nearly being in tears. Forget that I wake up utterly exhausted, wishing I could sleep, just sleep and feel rested.
My doctor is concerned and now I am concerned. I obviously pushed myself too hard. It's hard to look at the bitter facts of how you have treated yourself. Nobody to blame but yourself. Nobody to care about the results but you. Nobody can do anything but you.
How do I get myself back on track? Where do I start? How long is it going to take?
I don't know...but I can tell you this much, I am beyond tired. I am clearly facing another spell of my severe adrenal fatigue disease. I only pray that God gives me the wisdom to know what to do and to do it because I am at a very low point.