I started a blog

I have always been a bit of an oversharer, and honestly, this seemed like the most patient platform for my thoughts. After exploring the intriguingly dark depths of Reddit, I've deduced that it mostly is for people who actively need help, or are giving it. Whereas I'm just a complainer, or sharer of random and eclipsing thoughts. But I'm also an appreciator of others' random and eclipsing thoughts, which is why I'm here. I'm a giver and a taker. I'll start by telling you a little bit about me.

Everything went south when I was on my 8th-grade trip to Washington DC. In the cold weather, I noticed my fingers had turned white and went numb. Hmm... that's new. I hadn't given it another thought until four years later when a whole crock of shit hit the fan. Random red splotches covered my chest, bloodshot eyes, firey joints, and constant fatigue. Using what looked like a mini cookie cutter to take a sample from my leg, doctors determined that I have Sjögren's (show-grins)syndrome. Sjo-what? Maybe you guys should retest... just in case. But that was my truth. The chipmunk cheeks, relentless brain fog, and muscle pain crept into my life as I graduated high school. A right of passage, I guess. 

 So, like anyone who is recently diagnosed with an autoimmune condition, I decided to pursue college in New York City. Considering how clean, unoccupied, and slow-paced it is. Ironically, my health was pretty fine out there. Not only did the medications I started seem to help my symptoms, but I serendipitously met my best friend and twin flame. But a second, bigger, crock of shit hit the fan with full force when Covid happened. My wonky immune system combined with covid, effectively shut my stomach down. A paralyzed stomach? Me? But I love food... 

I'm now 24, and Gastroparesis has now become one of the easiest things for me to spell. My every day looks much different: hospitalization, vomiting + nausea, and a devastating diet. It was hard, having to adapt to a new life. Gastroparesis doesn't have a cure, so it's all about adaptation. Granted, many people with GP have it worse than me, so I have to acknowledge my gratitude for what I do have left. A coworker of my mom's told me to grieve the life I thought I was going to live. That hit hard. I hadn't really digested this permenancy. no pun intended. But it's true, the life I'm living is very different from the one I was expecting. A lot of people's are. So join me on this journey of adapting, I promise it's not all complaining.