Everyone is talking about back to school.

How they can't believe their kid is starting kindergarten.

Or how they can't believe all their kids are in school now.  What are they going to do with their time?

Or how they can't believe their oldest kid is starting high school or is off to college.  Where has the time gone?  Just breathe.

But I can't breathe.

I'm a workaholic because when I come home every night, it's to an empty house.

When I ask people to come over or to hang out, they can't because they are too busy with their spouses and their children.

When the deep pangs of loneliness hit, there is no one there to help me through.  I am still in a relatively new place, without the deep relationships I had back home.  My best friend lives in Phoenix.  I have no couple friends here, but almost everyone I know is half of a couple.

I am alone.  Separated.  On the outside looking in.

It shouldn't be this way.  We weren't meant to live in isolation.  I live in a small town where everyone knows everyone else and yet it seems like I know no one and no one knows me.

I am afraid to ask people over for dinner for fear of rejection, again.

I don't know if I can keep asking.  I don't know if I can keep trying.
​
I can't breathe.

My life is repeating itself.

A good friend of mine just celebrated her 7th anniversary.  I was in her wedding.  Shortly after celebrating her marriage, and two days after my birthday, I had surgery to remove my gallbladder.  That's when I was officially diagnosed with Endometriosis.

7 years later, my friend is still married and has a home and two children.

I'm facing surgery again.  Happy birthday to me!

I thought a lot about whether or not to write about this.  It's a personal issue.  I also don't want to be one of those people who overshares about their every health issue.  But a few days ago, someone asked me for information for a friend who just got an official diagnosis and was struggling with the pain of the disease.

That's when I decided to write this.  Because if you know me at all, I care about educating people about this disease that affects 1 in 10 women, yet no one seems to know anything about it.

I've been managing my pain for 7 years (that sounds SO long) with medication (not counting the 13 or so years before my diagnosis).  I had a doctor who didn't really know anything about my disease and didn't really listen to me.  When I moved to Charleston, I found a specialist who immediately took me off the pain medication I was on because it was killing my stomach.  But although the new pain meds work better in a smaller dose, the side affects are still not good.

And so, we broached the subject of surgery.

There is no cure for endometriosis.  You can either manage the pain medically, or you can try to cut out the disease surgically.  It's complicated and many doctors do what's called ablasion (basically burning off the endo) instead of excision (cutting it out).  I had a long discussion with my doctor about which kind she would do until I was satisfied that she knew what she was doing.

My greatest fear is that the surgery will not work.  That afterwards, when I go off my medication to see if it worked, the pain will still be there, and it will all have been for nothing.  It's hard to look past that.

But there is hope.  I cannot even imagine what it would be like if the surgery is successful.  Endo has been a huge part of my life for a very long time and to have relief from that is a hope that feels just out of reach.

I have had so many people who have supported me in battling this disease.  And I am grateful to each and every one of you.  Thank you for trying to understand what I've been dealing with all these years.  

If you or someone you know is dealing with Endometriosis or suspects that they may have it, here are some resources that can help.  If you have any questions about Endo or my experience with it, please reach out.

Nancy's Nook: https://www.facebook.com/groups/418136991574617/
This Facebook group has a ton of good information, dispels myths, and gave me the questions I needed to ask my doctor.

EndometrioSisters: https://www.facebook.com/groups/165509533641803/
A Facebook support group

Center for Endometriosis Care: 
http://www.centerforendometriosiscare.com/understanding-endometriosis/

Beware of any sites that are promoting Lupron - it's a dangerous drug and you should do lots of unbiased research before going on it.

Sometimes I feel really down. 

The loneliness hits.  I'm in a quiet house with nothing to do but watch crappy television shows where the couple that is perfect for each other takes ten years to finally admit they like each other, only to break up shortly after.

Sometimes I work too much.  I have no one to go home to, no reason to rush from work.  I am completely exhausted when I get home and I collapse on the couch.  No one is there to greet me, no one is there to share my dinner, or inspire me to cook at all.  No one tells me about their day - something other than what I've been dealing with all day.  My time is my own, but the isolation closes in on me.

Sometimes I question why God put me in this place.  Why I'm still single, why I'm here in Charleston, why things aren't going the way I imagined them.  And the tears come.  My heart is heavy for my friends who are lost, for the state of their souls and my inability to change that.  Sorrow.

But not all days are like that.

Sometimes something happens that gives me a warm fuzzy feeling when I walk into my home.  Like that's a real thing.  Warm fuzziness that almost bubbles over.

Sometimes I spend time sharing with a group of women who are striving to become the women God made them to be.  They give me hope.

Sometimes my work is so fulfilling that I look at the clock and realize it's an hour and a half past quitting time.  There is the feeling of satisfaction in a job well done.  The new exciting (and terrifying) opportunities that are opening up to me.

Sometimes I am amazed at the amount of creative talent in this small town.  The people that I am privileged to know, the community that has welcomed me in.  The opportunities that I have to be creative with other people.  The fact that I get to create opportunities for other people to be creative.  The enormous amount of talent that is alive and well here.

Sometimes I am almost overwhelmed because of a gift God once gave me, but I wasn't sure I would ever get back.  But He did give it back to me, here in Charleston.  And I see that every Sunday at choir practice in the faces of my singers.

No matter where I am, I will have those bad times.  They are present everywhere.  But those good times - some of those things could only happen where I am now.  it's not where I wanted to be, but that doesn't mean it isn't good.

A few years ago, one of my pastors, Anita, gave me a word of encouragement.  She said she felt like God was giving her a picture of me as a little girl, laughing and jumping around, playing on the rocks in a stream (I think that's accurate, it may have not been in a stream, but you get the picture).  She said that I was going to feel that joy again.

Sometimes I feel the loneliness.

But sometimes I feel like that little girl, playing joyfully in the stream.  

Sometimes, like tonight.