Fuck this Shit
“I am done.”
I was DONE with chronic illness.
I was totally over feeling powerless.
I was done living life on what felt like someone else's terms.
I was fed up with my second-rate life.
And I sure as hell was sick and tired of being sick and tired.
You totally know that feeling I'm talking about. It's that moment when you decide to rebuild it all and start from scratch. It's when you finally hit the bottom and there is nowhere else to go.
Well, about eight years ago, I hit that ultra low point.
Doctor’s couldn’t figure out what was wrong with me. After a slew of appointments, getting nowhere, and bouncing in and out of the ER, everything turned up negative. And when smart people tell you that they can’t find anything wrong, the alarm bells start going off fast.
My mind wandered to the worst case scenarios pretty darn quickly:
“Oh shit, I must have some weird ass, undiscovered disease.”
“Oh my god, I’m the only one on planet earth with this.”
“Dear Lord Jesus Christ, help me.” Note: I’m not Catholic by any stretch of the imagination, but I pulled out all the stops on this one.
That’s when I heard it.
Sometimes I hear this voice. I don't know exactly what to call it, maybe it's God, maybe it's the divine, or maybe it’s my intuition. I call it the Universe. Well, it sounds like my own voice, but super grounded and clear. It's this calm voice that usually drops a wisdom bomb when all hell breaks loose. And it came over in a wave of stillness when I was sobbing in a ball on the floor.
And, at my rock bottom, I heard it.
Are you ready for your revolution?