Confessions of a Chronic Career Chaser (Age 25-35)

Welcome to my Chronic Health Journey series. You may find it helpful to read in chronological order, starting with Roots of a Chronic Health Journey (Age 0-25).

My last blog in this series left off with my refusal to accept that the only option to healing my newly diagnosed invisible dis-eases was through a pill that silences your body's main form of communication when something is out of alignment. I started to lean on my gut instinct to do things my own way, and thus began my long windy road to discovery and recovery through a holistic approach.

Hooked on the Hustle

My professional career had really just started at age 25. After having left a career that brought me to daily tears, I was blessed to land an opportunity at a company that saw my potential before I even knew what my own potential was. I was addicted to proving my worth in my new role, nothing would slow me down. Not even an unexpected divorce. Obsessed with productivity, I wore burnout like a badge and treated exhaustion like a prerequisite for excellence. Skipping lunch to meet deadlines, scarfing down processed comfort food between emails, riding caffeine highs just to survive the afternoon slump. But these weren’t occasional bad habits. They were my daily ritual. 

"I wasn’t just living with a chronic illness. I was feeding it with a chronic mindset."

My pain didn’t just flare up randomly. It was a reflection of the way I’d trained myself to ignore my body, to override every signal for rest with one more “just push through.” I thought I was being strong, but I was too naïve to realize that chronic illness was my body’s way of screaming what I refused to hear: Slow down. Pay attention. I’m breaking.

Seeing Through the Fog

My chronic mindset paid off though! My superiors saw how reliable and efficient I could be, and started giving me more responsibilities. And being newly divorced, I had lot's of free time to work late to get all those things done. However, with the mental fog only getting stronger, my creativity was crushed. And so was my soul, because a core part of my new role revolved around creativity. While the work load was stacking up...so were my symptoms:

• Spicy food allergy (seriously, one bite put me to sleep)

• Major car sickness (now on short trips too!)

• Sharp jaw pain

• Constant nausea

• An Ulcer??

• Feet swelling in the sun or from standing

• Brain fog

• Loss of short term memory

• Absolutely no energy at the end of the work day

• Insatiable dehydration

"While the work load was stacking up...so were my symptoms"

At this point, I was running low on resources—both energetically and option-wise. I could recite any commercial from the 80's, and name most kids from Kindergarten, but couldn't remember the name of someone I just met, or an entire 10 minute conversation with a co-worker from the day prior (which makes for some quite awkward situations.) I was scraping by on really good note taking skills and surface level conversations like, "How is your family?" to hide the fact that I couldn't remember most of what they have possibly already told me about themselves. These symptoms were no longer effecting just me, they were effecting everyone around me (and I haven't even touched on the personal).

The Only Alternative

My doctors were quick to prescribe yet another pill for my latest wave of symptoms, despite doing zero testing to confirm things like stomach acid levels or whether I actually had an ulcer. I eventually caved and took the infamous “purple pill,” which did ease the nausea and a handful of other symptoms. But I still had more than 20 unexplained symptoms left to unravel.

With no access to helpful specialized chronic illness practitioners or support groups—and having already devoured every book I could find by respected medical professionals (none of whom could agree on a cause, let alone a cure)—I knew I had to look elsewhere. So I went against everything I’d ever been taught while growing up in the southern "Bible Belt," and ventured into the taboo territory of alternative healing to start exploring:

• Acupressure – It felt like she was pressing magic buttons straight into my soul. Instant relief… that vanished the moment I walked out the door.

• Acupuncture – Sometimes it was heavenly. Other times, it was like inviting more pain to the party that never ends.

• Massage Therapy – Daily shoulder massages (thank you, on-site company therapist!) brought temporary bliss. Occasional splurge on a full body massage when I could afford it. But the moment the pressure stopped, the pain slid right back in, like it was the next batter up.

• Hot Yoga – The heat melted the tension beautifully and helped strengthen my core, but just as I was finding my rhythm, chronic dehydration crept in and kicked me off the mat.

• Tanning Beds – Okay, hear me out… This was an accidental discovery, but the heat felt amazing! However, the relief was fleeting, and after a few sessions I could feel the siren song of a new addiction calling. I decided skin cancer wasn’t the next diagnosis I wanted to collect. Years later, I did actually see this on a list of chronic relief practices.

"I went against everything I’d ever been taught while growing up in the southern "Bible Belt," and ventured into the taboo territory of alternative healing."

Smiling Through the Pain

Co-workers were often mystified when they found out I had Fibromyalgia. I smiled, I laughed, I appeared to be living a normal life. How could someone who was so young and skinny be so sick? They struggled to wrap their mind around what Fibromyalgia actually was, because with nerve-related conditions, anything and everything was a symptom. I just came across as a hypochondriac begging for attention.

What people didn’t see was the crashes that came the moment I got home. The times where I was bed ridden, or taken down to my knees in agony. The times where I cried so hard, just from attempting to wear a pair of jeans that sent my entire body into a fiery rage. Laughter was the medicine that got me through the pain, and my unshakable belief in healing is what got me through the journey. And I would need every ounce of that faith—because the storm was only just beginning to roll in.

Lessons Learned at this Phase

• The importance of boundaries.

• Chronic Illness doesn't mean your life has ended.

• People struggle understand what they can't see or feel themselves.

Let's Chat

I'd love to hear from you - does reading about my health journey resonate with you in any way?

Be sure to subscribe to my blog to follow along with my chronic health journey.