Three Truths for a Lie

The last 10 days have been as much a mental and emotional battle as they have been physically painful. I think my mind is overwhelmed by the weight of navigating the pain of the fractures, the logistics of navigating travel, where I’m living, failing health, and finances.

How could I have broken my pelvis? I often make light of the fact that the very real stories I could tell of the last few months are so crazy (terminal illness exacerbated by an Instacart fall, hit by a car, flooded airBnb, etc) its hard to share them because it’s almost a little too dramatic. I was in Washington DC last Monday after flying up from Florida because I got an opportunity for a last minute cancellation appointment at arguably the most well known Scleroderma research hospital in the world. I’ve been in and out of the ER experiencing significant pain and gastrointestinal bleeding after what we’ve discovered is GAVE syndrome.

I feel like these months have been filled with a new medical issue every week or two, hospital stays, followed by decreased energy and periods of silence and isolation from the world… because I don’t know how to show up as I walk through the sadness of my reality.

Sitting with all this on Monday, I started to spiral. There’s probably some kind of mental health definition for what happened, but I began to question if I really had broken my pelvis in two places. Really? It just doesn’t seem possible. The more I thought about it the more convinced I was I had made the whole thing up. This made me feel even more sad and out of control. I finally got to a point of confusion where I picked up the phone and called my mom (she had been on speaker when the doctor gave the report and talked about the fractures… so she could 100% confirm it had happened) and simply said, “I need you to tell me I broke my pelvis. I need you to tell me that’s true. I am starting to think I made it all up.”

She was at work and I don’t think she understood at all how serious I was, and since it’s a pretty black and white truth, she said, “well of course you really did break it, what are you talking about…” What I was talking about was how my pain and fear and “overwhelmed-ness” was taking me down a road to believe I had made something so plainly true into something that wasn’t. I quickly and easily started believing a lie.

And, while this situation may seem crazy upon reading it… I don’t actually think it’s that unique. You don’t need to have a terminal illness or a broken body to easily grasp onto a lie. Overarching lies, like “the situation you are facing is hopeless,” or more daily deceptions like “her life on Instagram looks so put together, I must be worthless.” But here’s the truth. YOU are never hopeless, you aren’t worthless… and honestly your friend probably isn’t all that put together, either.

As I reflected yesterday on how I stopped my dangerous mental spiral, I came up with 3 steps you can take to overcome lies in your mind. Because I think no matter our fight, the battle for truth is one we all face daily. Here we go…

1. Activate your awareness. Know and name your thoughts. Irrational ideas seem less obvious (and are therefore more dangerous) if we allow them to stay muddy. Pull them from the yuck of your mind and once you clean them off you’ll see them for what they are.

2. Talk the truth. If you can’t figure out what is true… call someone and have them tell you that the only thing crazier than breaking your hips while going to get coffee is thinking a pain filled week later that you made it all up. If your hope is gone, sing worship over your situation and declare a greater reality over your darkness. My mom’s words and Natalie Grant worship for me… done.

3. Choose to change. Bad thoughts out and good thoughts in. Mute the person on Instagram who makes you feel less than. Stop rehearsing the sad news that makes you feel like life won’t get any better. It will.

And then there are really bright moments, too. And glimmers of life. I was supposed to get my new teeth last Tuesday but the appointment is rescheduled for next week. Delayed hope. And to be honest, I DO feel a difference in my body after getting all that infection out of my mouth as well as the intense antibiotic treatment protocol I received in California. My heart and hurt body was held last week by dear friends and one of my precious old “kiddos” drove the hours round trip home from school to hang for the day. What a gift to be treasured like that.

So what’s true for me right now is that I’m broken. I’m in an unfathomable level of pain from bones and bleeding and just the evil beast that is Scleroderma. I’m lonely. And I am experiencing sadness. That’s being real. But I also know that if this life is going to be ridiculous and difficult, I’ll continue to walk it (well, limp it) while I’m still here. And I’m going to take moments when I have the strength to tell you the stories.

Because our situations are different… but we really aren’t that different. And we’re in this together.

That’s the truth.