This is the three hundred and nineteenth time I am attempting to sit down and get through this post without breaking down into a mess of tears. Here we go.
There are so many years worth of pain hidden deep within me – it’s so much more comfortable to live with it than to work on it. I honestly don’t believe my relationship with God or the church will ever be repaired. I have spent years being extremely pissed off at both. I spent so many countless hours sobbing uncontrollably on my bedroom floor or in the hospital. I remember one time in particular…the pain from my PFRF was so intense I could barely breathe. I fell down on my knees, face to the floor, sobbing, screaming for Him to take the pain away. To give the doctors answers. To get me through this because I couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t take the pain. I couldn’t take people staring at me. I couldn’t take getting worse and worse every day and no one could help me. Nothing helped the pain, the swelling, the bleeding, nothing helped.
That same month I almost lost my dad to cancer, stage three on the brink of stage four kidney cancer. They said he would have died very soon if he didn’t come in with appendicitis pain. I remember where I was sitting when my parents told me he had cancer. My dad had never looked so small to me. Just laying there in the hospital bed. I was terrified. My best friend at the time made a comment, “What are you going to do if your dad can’t walk you down the aisle?” I lost it. Within a month we weren’t friends. I didn’t need that negativity in my life when I was going through hell and I was watching my dad go through hell.
I read scriptures on healing, pain, and perseverance over and over and over again. I truly believed God would heal me. I believed He would rescue me from the pain. I believed He would make it all better. Instead I’ve been dealing with five years worth of symptoms, pain, and scars that will never go away. I’m bitter. Instead of getting better I got bitter. I got really bitter. I don’t even recognize myself. My actions, my thoughts, my behavior…I don’t even recognize it. I barely have any friends now because I’m so guarded I refuse to let anyone in.
Agony and denial swallowed me whole.
Kaitlyn Brynae 