Allergies. Wait...What?

I've never been that person with the allergies. I grew up hearing other people say things about their allergies. "Oh my runny nose...it's my allergies." "I have a headache...it's allergies."

Oh my. Everyone and their problems. They're so exotic. They have something going on in their life. They aren't <em>normal</em>.

And I was so normal. So boringly, desperately normal.

It went far beyond the allergies thing.

My friends had glasses. <em>I always wanted those.</em> My friends got leg cramps. <em>What did those even feel like? </em>My friends had hurts and pains in their life, people they missed, things that made them sad. <em>What was it like to have all that happen, and to be able to feel something about it all? </em>

Does any of that sounds messed up? Imagine how messed up it <em>felt</em>.

I've heard that people who experience trauma tend to try to re-create trauma in their life afterward. It's like their brains don't know how to function without it. I definitely experienced trauma as a kid, and it left me somewhat emotionally dead. I think I was partly searching for something to feel emotions about, and partly unknowingly trying to create some trauma in my life. I'm not an expert, so I can't say for sure, but it seems to make sense. I had gone from an unsafe, scary, traumatic situation, to a safe, loving environment - which eventually translated to me as boring.

Yes, I was also bored with life. I wanted something to happen.

(Don't let my past tense writing fool you - I'd still love for something exciting to happen. But I'm a little more wary of that excitement now. I just don't have time for that. Ain't nobody...)

So, the past few years, stuff has happened. To me. And my health. Well, there's some excitement.

But not really.

To be perfectly honest (disgustingly honest), yes, I feed on things happening. So I didn't mind, from that aspect, at least, when I started getting sick. My twisted childhood dream was coming true! (Oh, help me escape my own craziness. Puh-leeez.)

Because I didn't mind having to deal with my issues, I didn't really deal with them perfectly. I spent years worrying that I was just 'making it up' or that I was a hypochondriac. Hypochondria was even implied to me by people in my life. Ouch.

At that point, being sick wasn't fun anymore. I will never forget the day that I sat across the table from someone I love and respect, and was basically asked if maybe I was making to big of a deal out of it all. Oh my goodness, was I? I knew how messed up I can be, feeding off of hardship, looking for things to happen...Was I just convincing myself that I had a problem and I was really absolutely normal?

It was both confusing and painful. It hurt to know that even people close to me, who watched everything happen, could think I was maybe just two steps away from being a drama queen.

I've spent a year adjusting how I eat, trying gluten free, dairy free, etc. Desperately trying to feel better. But I was still going through cycles of exhaustion, pain, moods out of control, mixed with times of feeling almost well.

I'd been diagnosed with Acid Reflux, Hypothryoid, and Hypoglycemia already. Never took the acid reflux thing seriously, though. The others I took seriously. Pop a pill every day for the thyroid, and the hypoglycemia...well, on bad days I have to eat every hour and a half. On good days I can go a few hours without eating and be fine.  That one runs in our family, so I come by it honestly.

I finally went and got tested for the gluten thing, though. I was curious about peanuts and milk, too.

So I laid on a table and they poked me with 99 toothpicks.

"Sorry I'm so jumpy."

The nurse didn't take that. "You're doing better than most people."

I felt and itching within minutes. The nurse came back in. "Dust mites."

What? Me, a dust allergy? I'm here to check for a gluten sensitivity! I have stomach trouble, not breathing trouble! This must be a hoax. So the doctor comes in and gives me twenty shots on my arms  just below the surface of the skin.

"Just a few minutes."

And then...

"Huge reaction to dust....Dust can affect your gut."

HUH. Learn something new every day. Or you're lying to me. My sister told me no, they aren't making it up. It's probably legit. (And now, 9 hours later, I can still pick out that spot on my back that was the "dust mite prick" - it's not happy; my medically trained friend would say it's yelling at me.)

So he gives ways to help with eliminating dust.

Then he tells me to go two weeks without eating any dairy. Ok, that's reasonable. But then...Mold. Don't eat mold. Ooook. Done.

No...don't eat mushrooms, cantaloupe, cheese, apple cider vinegar (but I need that stuff! It's a miracle worker for my stomach), and a host of other stuff...even sausage.

Oh my word. it's a good thing I like salad. And apples. I can't even eat strawberries or blueberries. Oh, my life, my life...Is gone.

NO ICE CREAM!!! My life is completely gone.

Ok, in all seriousness, I am actually excited. Not because of my old twisted "I want something to be wrong with me, too!" I'm excited because I wasn't crazy. There was something going on. There is, and there may be ways to stop it so I can get better and be "that person with something wrong" anymore. We could figure this out, and it can be over.

He's checking for celiac/gluten problems, too, but I won't know the results of that for a couple days.

So for tonight, I'm saying goodbye to my favorite comfort food - ice cream. So yummy. So comforting. So out of my life for two weeks. I'm ready for this challenge!