Exactly 6 months ago today my life took a turn for the worse after a gym session that shut my body down with no return. I kept putting blame on the training. On working too hard and not smart. Maybe I just didn’t know how to be an athlete. Or maybe my body wasn’t cut out for extreme sports.
It’s not like I grew up thinking I’d one day be interested in fighting professionally. When I stepped on the mat for the first time at 25 years old, I found my heartbeat again.
Now with 6 months without it and still no definitive diagnosis, I write tonight with fear and uncertainty of what’s next.
You see my symptoms keep getting worse instead of better. I don’t want to complain. I don’t want to feel helpless. But at the same token, I know that I must prepare myself mentally for what can happen next.
Prepare for the worse so that if it’s nothing serious, I can find relief, instead of crumbling from bad news.
I’m tired of googling what I might have. I analyze everyday what I’m feeling and compare it to prior days to make sure I understand my own body. It’s exhausting.
I thought I was easily going to work towards a better version of myself when I started changing my goals. Now I’m physically at my worse.
I can barely think and follow conversations. It’s a blur. My feet and hands are like heavy heated rocks just tensing up for no reason.
Sometimes I think I’m dreaming. And tomorrow I’ll be good as new, and I can continue my life like the world does.
But it’s not like that. I’m still living this nightmare. Only Arod knows what it’s like because he stands by my side and battles it with me. This “it”. Whatever it is.
I hope to just find an answer soon. As many people do when they are searching for a way to heal.
Mentally. Physically. Emotionally. Any body experience that can help you make each day a happy one.
When all I want is to maybe have at least one day pain free. Walking without my body locking. Sitting without my legs drenched in pins and needles. And talking without having to avidly process what was just said by repeating it over and over again in my head so that I comprehend.
Yeah, this is my life at the moment. Fronts of strengths and dreams. Hiding the fact that I’m probably never going to be physically 100% again.
Unless I do this. Fake that I’m okay. And that I will be. And that I will move forward no matter what the outcome is this week after my EMG.