A Rough Morning

To most,  a rough morning means maybe not having any coffee left or being late to work. To me, a lot has to happen for it to "qualify" as a rough morning.

This morning, I woke up around 10. I was hungry, so I went to the kitchen and made myself a bowl of cereal. Usually, mornings are hard for me because I have to wait for my medication to kick in. This morning was unusually difficult. By difficult, I mean the worst I have felt in a long time. I usually lose my hearing and vision when I first stand up, but this morning, it didn't fade. I have gotten good at listening to my body and knowing what to do to make myself feel better. But today, my symptoms continued to get worse and worse.

When I was younger, I most definitely considered myself a clumsy person, but I have gotten less clumsy over the years. Of course, I still have my moments, but nothing like this morning. The way I felt is very hard to put into words. My ears started to ring, my mind started getting very cloudy. I opened the fridge and grabbed the milk. I poured it into my bowl of cereal, and dropped it... twice. I have never been so far from reality. I lost the cap and still ave no idea where it is, yet I put the milk back into the fridge and left the milk on the floor. I continued to feel worse and worse, so I sat down on the ground. I feel that it is important to know that none of this is like me at all, except sitting on the kitchen floor (that's too normal haha.) I also struggle with OCD and cannot leave things unfinished. When you take the cap off of something, when you finish, you put it back on. I would also NEVER just leave something I spilled without cleaning it up because that stresses me out!

As I sat on the floor, I still continued to get worse. Usually sitting or laying down helps my symptoms significantly, but not this morning. Molly, our dog, came into the kitchen and smiled at me and wagged her tail. Because I was so out of it, I completely ignored her (which is very hard to do because she is adorable.) I started to sweat and began to feel like I was going to vomit, also something I NEVER do. I went to the bathroom, leaving my bowl of cereal on the counter, milk on the floor, and ridiculously adorable dog in the kitchen. I sat in there until I felt better which likely took 5 minutes. This episode was likely one of the longest I have ever experienced. After I felt strong
enough to stand, I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror. I noticed that most of the color in my face was gone-- my lips and tan skin were pale. The last time this happened, as I was told, I passed out (due to something completely unrelated.) I walked into the kitchen and grabbed my bowl of cereal looking down at the mess I made on the floor. I set the bowl down and used all the strength I had to bend down and place a few paper towels over the milk (not very efficient I now realize but couldn't understand at the time.) I left a towel over the milk and went to my room to lay down in bed.

As soon as I got into bed, I texted both my mom and a friend who experiences almost the exact same things that I do. My mom worried, as she does, but I knew that nothing could be done to help me except laying down. My friend said, "oh my gosh. I'm so so so sorry. I know exactly how you feel." Although my mom doesn't directly understand/experience what I go through, she knows what it feels like to not have a body functioning the way it should. She's amazing at advocating for me and I am so grateful for her, but she also recognizes how lucky it is for me and my best friend to have someone who can sympathize AND empathize.

I knew that I shouldn't have just pushed through the discomfort this morning, but I am so used to losing vision and hearing momentarily every time I stand that I thought everything would be okay.
I need to learn to listen to my body better and ask for help when I need it. Asking for help has always been a tough thing for me, but I deserve it(: