I am more than just my disease, but for now I just want to sleep

The irony of avoiding labels happens when they become unavoidable. After shedding my PR Girl and Girlboss persona, I have now entered my #endogirlie era.

Endometriosis has completely taken over my life. I don’t remember when was the last time I didn’t feel pain. I don’t remember when was the last time I felt strong and clear minded. I don’t remember when was the last time I dared to plan ahead for the months and years ahead.

A little while ago, I saw a post on Reddit asking why isn’t endo classified as a cancer. In many ways, endo is similar to cancer because it can spread EVERYWHERE in the body, not just limited to a woman’s reproductive organs. The main difference? Endo growths are benign, while cancer growths are malignant and multiplies much more rapidly. While cancer invades cells and destroy them, endo surrounds them and suffocates them. This is why some women with bowel endo have to get their bowels resectioned, while others lose their ovaries or have to undergo hysterectomies, amongst many other ways you can lose your organs to endometriosis.

Prior to my cyst laparoscopy, my only symptoms looking back now were somewhat heavy periods, pain during orgasms, and always needing to pee. I peed, a lot, through the night, when I’m out on drives, every time I’m bent in a certain angle and my bladder nopes right out.

I remember feeling really good following my cyst laparoscopy, feeling only just a teeny bit sad that my belly button looked different now from the incision. The same can’t be said following my GnRH treatment, which put me in induced menopause, and really upset my hormonal balance.

My induced menopause brought me different menopausal symptoms every week. The hot flush was seriously no joke. But what hit the hardest was going back to my scans and realising that the medication didn’t do its job, and I was back with a 3cm cyst on the very same ovary.

It has been 8 months since my last GnRH dose. In one month, I enjoy one good week, feeling productive and purposeful, then I get one week where I’m perpetually in bed, and 2 weeks of varying degree of pain. I developed food intolerance – bye bye corn – and movements once familiar can cause so much pain to my ovary (looking at you leftie!)

This is no way to live. It is exhausting, depleting. It is isolating. I’m fearful to eat outside because I’m afraid of eating something wrong that causes a flare up. I don’t participate in social activities because I simply do not have the ability to stay focused and keep up. I avoid alcohol now to reduce the inflammation in my body.

I wish to say that I am more than just my disease, but truly I just want to sleep.