It starts and ends with your choices

When I was little, I would always notice that there seemed to be two types of people. 

The first type seemed to consist of people who were always too careful, too worried about other people’s opinions. They did what other people wanted, wore cloths to look like the peeple around them, and tried there best to “Just Fit In”. 

The second type tends to be more rambunctious. They are louder,  they laugh a lot and they seemed to flutter around and talk to everyone. 

Neither group seemed to be very deep into these conversations that they were having. Neither group seemed to really be listening to people, they kept it more superficial but I didn’t understand why. 

I never seemed to fit into those types of groups, and spent a long time thinking something was wrong with me because of that.

But I was wrong. 

For years I stayed around people I didn’t like, because I felt like it made me fit in better. I watched how much I voiced my opinions, because not everyone agreed with me and I am not always up for what feels like a violent debate on my opinion. People are asshole and they don’t like you to feel different then you, so they ram their opinions down your throat instead. 

For too long I worried about people’s feelings, when they blatantly did not care about mine. I stepped up to bat for them over and over again just to have them tear me to shreds when talking about me to others. I would even have the audacity to be HURT when words they said got back to me. 

For too many years I spoke negatively. I used my words to explain the wrongs around me, and not as much about the good things that were surrounding me. I can say that I did this because that’s seems to be the society norm (which it is) but that would be lying. I made a choice. 

It’s time for this all to change. You don’t get to have power over me society. I do. 

It’s time to make the choices that benefit my family and myself. I have neglected myself for far too long to be caught up in societies bullshit anymore. 

Turn the switch off

Today I wish I could make my life slow down. There is just way to many things that I want to do, and way too little time to enjoy it .

What’s worse is that lately I find myself not being to relax to fullest, or even enjoy things the way I should. 

Is this normal? Am I that strange person that can never find my inner peace? 

That doesn’t seem right tho. I used to be able to, and I don’t feel like it is that far off. It’s more like I have to find the switch and turn it back off. I’m not sure when I flipped it, or why I would of thought it would have been a good idea, but it happened. 

So how do I do that? 

Just say NO to anxiety

There is never a day that goes by that it doesn’t show its ugly head. Day in and day out I find a different way to panic over something small that has happened. Every day It seems as if I handle it worse than before. But how do I stop?

Anxiety is real.

It is the one that likes to be in charge. It thinks it can come and go as it pleases. It cares very little about the people who get hurt in the process of a fit.

In a world where mental illness has been looked down on for so long, this is still the one that people love to say people make it up just to excuse bad behavior. To those who believe that, I dare you to live in someone’s head when this happens. Try to explain to yourself that it is fake, that you are making it a bigger deal then what it really is. See if it listens to you any better than it listens to us. When you fail, which you will, then I would love for you to come back and apologize instead of mock us. I would love to see understanding in your eyes instead of disbelief that we CHOSE to do this AGAIN.

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It humbles me to realize that I have only just begun to fight this battle just in the last ten years or so, and it is still a very small fight in the grand scheme of people who deal with this. I can leave my house, go to work, be in social settings sometimes, and many of other things that I have heard can be problematic to others. I have very set triggers mostly now, in which I am learning coping mechanisms for. Sooner rather than later I may end up talking to a doctor about  better options. For now, it’s a day-to-day battle for me.

Anxiety is only a very small part of me. One that has been happening all along since I started having children more than likely, but was low-key enough that I didn’t recognize any warning signs. No one felt the need to bring it up to me. This could be because of the stigmata that came along with any mental illness, or it could be that I was masking it so well that it was truthfully not seen by anyone including myself.

I bring this up not because it is a topic I enjoy, but because it is something that I know is an everyday problem for many of people. I know that I am not alone, and I know that the only way to fix a stigmata is to speak about it instead of hide it.

It is a battle.

And I will win.

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Styles

Recently I have been surrounded by people with different communication styles. 

While that should be normal, my recent problem has been with people that I have never had communication problems with. They are people that are close to me, so it bothers me to realize the crossroads that have come between us. It seems as if people are coming up with problems without ever bothering to have discussions first. 

So it leaves me at an empass. 

Do I just let it be and see where it lands? 

Do I chase these situations and try to find a different way to discuss things? 

What are you waiting for?

That question stops me in my tracks a lot.

I have no real answer. What am I waiting for? It’s like everyone waits around for so much of there lives they forget what they were going to do in the first place.

Working around people who are dying, sooner rather than later, I always hear people talking with regrets.

“I wish I spent more time with my family”

“I wish I would have realized that my work wouldn’t be the one here with me in my last moments”

“I wish that I would have told “___________” that I loved them”

“I wish I would have taken more chances

So what in the world makes us chose to push these plans off? Why have I waited so long to start this blog? Why can I not convince myself to just sit down and write my novel?

Why can’t I decide who I want to be when I grow up? I feel like when I turned 12 I had a better idea of who I wanted to be then I did when I turned 30. Some people like to tell me that it is normal to feel that way, but I don’t. I think that is just crazy.

And yet maybe it is the answer too. At 12, I had no self-doubt. I hadn’t lost my first love yet, I hadn’t become a teenage mom and surely never tried to live on my own with my own bills. Those bills, man do they make you take whatever job that you can get as fast as possible. All of a sudden, those aspirations to the dream job hit the back burner.

So when do you get to pull back the reigns and take control of your own life? Your own destination. What in the world are we waiting for?

Waiting won’t bring prince charming. Waiting won’t pay our bills. Waiting sure won’t make you any happier will it? Waiting doesn’t make your life get any better. It makes it stretch on, same thing every day.

At what point do you just take the leap?

The good outweighs the bad

Today was one of those days that make up for the bad days.

The family was able to keep the fighting to the bare minimum. The teenager gave in to the constant pressure and actually spent time with us. The phone only took over a few times, but that’s much better then constantly.

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The little ones were very agreeable to the various outdoor activities that we accomplished. They only complained and cried for no reason a few times. Piece of cake compared to what I am used to recently.

Don’t get me wrong, I have great kids. I truly love spending time with them and when my  husband can join in, it truly is amazing. Between bike rides, parks and baseball we absolutely kept busy.

You know what that meant?

LITTLE TO NO ELECTRONICS!! I didn’t have to pry them away  from these silly devices that we all are getting a little too addicted to. There is a time and place for everything of course, and I kept everyone a little calmer by giving everyone a hours time after lunch to play on something. I of course napped, because that’s what moms do right?

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This will be the one that makes me smile through the bad days that are bound to sneak up on us.

My Essure Battle part 2

permanent birth control gone wrong– a personal account

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Nope. Not even close.
For almost three and a half years I dealt with random health things, but chalked everything up to getting a little older. I had a hard time controlling my weight which had never been a problem before, but things are different after every baby right? I started to have weird intolerance to food and had strange rashes that would show up around my midsection or even down by my lady parts, but then they would lesson or go away. I was noticing my joints were hurting more and suddenly I would have more than the normal amount of days of absolutely unbearable tiredness. I mean fall asleep standing up kind of tiredness that I had never had before. I would get so severely bloated around the abdomen that people would actually ask me if I was pregnant. I couldn’t blame them or get mad because I really actually would look pregnant. The next day it would be back to regular size, but other than feeling bloated there was no other changes from one day to the next. Sometimes the bloating would happen in my face instead, and then just go back to normal. My teeth suddenly took a sudden swift downhill turn and I ended up pulling them left and right until I was staring at the man who had been my dentist my whole life, crying my eyes out because we were having to discuss implants versus dentures. I was 30. Prior to this, I had a normal amount of cavities. They seemed to pop up after every pregnancy but then would chill out until after the next pregnancy that I would have. I brushed normal, flossed normal, and went to routine checkups as recommended. I even started a different multivitamin that the dentist recommended.

I made a life altering choice to completely quit smoking one Christmas, and things suddenly got worse. That’s when I noticed my ankles swelling. I had recently started a different type of exercise so it was easy to blame that. I brought it up with my primary the next time I saw him (maybe three weeks later) and told him that sometimes it really made my joints hurt and had started to become daily. He advised me that my blood pressure was also elevated for me, so maybe they went hand in hand, so he wanted me to come back in a few weeks to see if it lessened the further along I got with quitting smoking. It was a side effect he explained, of your body resetting itself from the damage. Except it didn’t get any better. I was sent for test after test in the next year, in which the answer seemed to change with every one of them. Some of these diagnoses were things that I may never have known since most people don’t have any symptoms or side effects at my age. I had slight heart regurgitation, chronic gallstones that apparently do not cause too much pain to me, acid reflux that had been written off to all of my pregnancies, and a crazy brain disorder that I will talk about some other time. None of this explained my sudden onset of symptoms. At this point I was wearing compression socks daily, and still swelling. I was taking blood pressure medicine as well as a water pill, at varying doses through this since it never seemed to really change anything. The rashes got worse and I was bounced to a dermatologist as well as my gynecologist since it was in the region. I started getting panic attacks, and had grown to love my anxiety since it was peeking out more and more in life. My weight was at all all-time high and it fluctuated 20 pounds sometimes from one day to the next. The doctors continued to look at me as if I were nuts.

One hot July day I came home from work and complained to my husband that I was having severe abdomen discomfort. Seeing as he was used to hearing me complain a lot those days, he said something like oh I’m sorry and that was it. After uncomfortably sitting around for the next hour I decided it was time for the ER. My abdomen was distended and suddenly I couldn’t pee. It felt like something was blocking it. My best friend came and grabbed me and we camped out together at the local emergency room for the next few hours. And boy did we get some weird answers.

They pulled me in for a cat scan of my abdomen area, and after everything was set up and I was half in the machine I started chatting with the tech that was doing the scan. Friendly chitchat until he asked me what type of surgery I have had before and how many children I had. So I tell him I had my C-section with tubal ligation, along with how many children I have without a thought. He nonchalantly says oh ok that explains why you have so much scar tissue. I believe I asked if there was a lot of it, or something to that effect, and he told me that I had the most scarring that he had seen in his career. I told him that I had chronic gallstones as well, and he asked what birth control that I had inserted since I had told him the tubal ligation. I gave a bland answer about the Essure and what it was, in which he responded with “Well, that explains all of these coils I am seeing.”

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The first doctor I saw after this was my primary, 3 days later who told me it just wasn’t possible. He gave me directions to get into my gynecologists office. That took two weeks. During this he had ordered an ultrasound and I got the same puzzled type of reaction from the lady who did that test as well. During this waiting period before next doctor appointment I started doing research. In the first few days I learned too much information that I was unaware of before. I even dug out an old pamphlet handed to me during my last pregnancy. The inconsistencies just made no sense.

Finally I got to the gynecologists office, who told me I was making a bigger deal out of this then I should. I handed her the research I had found. I told her that I had found multiple support groups thru social media, and I fully believed that I was having a severe allergic reaction to the nickel in my body. Nickel that I had been completely unaware of, seeing as the pamphlet never once said that there was nickel in the product. I even remember being asked the day of surgery about any allergies I had, in which I had responded with “Bee stings and nickel.”

The hoops they made jump through after this were borderline insane. Diet change, steroids, antibiotics, tons of blood work, a D&C to see if they could scrape these suckers out of my full of scar tissue uterus, taking Benadryl every 6 hours for a month, the list can go on. None of them fully believed that I was reacting to them. I finally put my foot down, said enough is enough. Give me a hysterectomy, if only as a means to disprove me.

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I had my uterus removed almost 6 years after I had it inserted. They found it to be more than twice its size, with coils perforating thru in 4 other places, and scar damage covering one ovary and the side of my bladder. By the time we were done, they had found 9 coils in my body. That is 7 more than what was necessary. My doctor told me that she could understand there being an extra coil or two on each side, but never 9. Since my body was having such a huge allergic reaction I instantly started rejecting the stitched that she had used to close the inner layers. It kept ripping open my incision, for the next 12 months. In that time I lost 20 pounds, without being cleared to exercise seeing as any strain on the abdomen caused it open. The rashes went away. My anxiety lessened, and never once have I had a panic attack. My leg swelling is gone. My severe bloating went away. My blood pressure is normal. My energy level is back to where it was, and I no longer feel the crazy unstoppable tired that I had become accustomed to. This list could go on.

My kids have their mom back. My husband got his wife back. My friends have all made mention of how happy I am compared to the last few years, and I actually have begun to show up at work and family get together’s. I had stopped because the anxiety had gotten too bad. I had not realized how many things I withdrew from until I started returning to them.

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Do you have the Essure? Check out this awesome symptom list that I found online to make sure that you are not experiencing any and convincing yourself that it is just in your head. DON’T BE A VICTIM!! TRUST YOUR BODY!!

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P.S.- I have known women to have this form of birth control and have no current problems. It is possible that they will never have any, and they will luck out. To them, I wish the best of luck. Clearly there will always be that 1% in anything that get the raw end of the deal. However if I can draw awareness and even help one other person to realize that they are not alone, that these symptoms are real, then I have done what I set out to do.

**Essure was completely pulled off the market on in July 2018 thanks to very strong women standing up for themselves in the face of doubt. The very last country to stop allowing this device was America. Bayer still maintains that they beleive in the safety of their device, but had low sales so they would pull it off the market.

I consider this to be an amazing success from people who were directly affected from the miserable product that Bayer stood behind.

Did you miss part 1? Wondering where this story started? Click here to find out! My Essure Battle part 1