51 Months Later

Once upon a time, a girl was the villain of her own story. She was defiant in her demeanor because an underlying demon called Lupus was hogging up all her sanity. Doctors tried to help her with steroids, anti-anxiety and sleep meds, industrial-grade NSAIDS and painkillers, bipolar meds, and bonus anti-psychotics (Thanks, Prednisone!). Do you know what a cocktail like that did to the poor human body? It caused "the big*" existential crisis (yep, that one!) and started a saga leading to this article being written. Of course, with the added reward of her getting her big girl pants on.

*Big implies this crisis's intensity compared to the previous bazillion. It may be best comprehended by an audience suffering perpetual existential dread. Exclusions are likely. No T&Cs apply.

Trigger warning: This article discusses themes of suicidal ideation.

Two months after the lowest point.

Day 1: Finally gets around to practicing meditation consistently.

Day 2: User Interface activated.

Day 3: Render "inner environment."

Day 4: Pain, pain, and some more pain with chunks of PTSD and a dash of invisibility.

Day 5: Okay, this is outrageous!

Day 6: That much pain? Really?

Day 7: I like dissociation. Denying the existence of pain got me through the years! Please leave me alone with my ignorant bliss.

Day 8: But.. But.. You are at rock bottom. Suffice it to say, in the grand scheme of things, denial is a highway to hell.

Day 9: So, I need to feel the pain? Are you freaking kidding me? Okay, let's give this a try.

Day 10: AHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Day 11: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Day 12: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Day 13: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Day 14: Just about ready to punch someone in the face!!

Day 15: Maybe more than PUNCH?

A rendezvous with the Grimm Reaper.

Day 16: Feeling quite motivated and entitled to burn the world down to the ground!! I mean, if I'm going down, so should the freaking world! That seems fair. Maybe then someone will UNDERSTAND!! Burn it all.

Day 17: IS IT BURNING YET???

After hurting the innocents, your morality threshold has been breached. Your vehicle is now flooded with guilt.

Activate self-destruct protocol.

Day 18: SCREW THIS, I'M OUT!!!!!!

A barely audible low rumble: Maybe sleep on it?

Okay. If you insist.

I do.

A sliver of hope.

Day 19: I think I want to live… Maybe?

Day 20: BUT IT'S IMPOSSIBLE, IT'S TOO MUCH!! Plus, I'm a douchebag.

Day 21: What about my family and my friends? They love me despite all this. How can I do this to them? They would be devastated.

Mind further furnishes all things categorized under #fomo.

There's that concert… and what about taking my doggo to that tiny house on Airbnb in the middle of nowhere? I haven't even been to Japan yet.

Day 22: How are you planning to do any of that? This pain ROYALLY sucks, you know.

Day 23: Yes, I do. Has anyone figured out a solution? Or will I be the trailblazer? I don't want to miss out and be dead and a-wonderin'. Come on; it's worth a Google.

Additional context: ChatGPT was not generally available, so Google was still THE search synonym.

Day 24: Starts research… Ohhhh no.. The Internet is a freaking horror show!

Warning: CPU over temperature. Panic attack incoming.. brain fog… Crash!

Day 25: I'm so tired. Need… Couch…. Time!! Tomorrow… zzzzzzzz

Cool down in progress—status: 42% complete.

How not to be looney tunes.

Day 26: The Internet is not cutting it. I can't tell which information is backed by science. Need an expert. Also, my rheumatologist recommended I see someone who knows what they're doing.

Day 27: Internal conflict at DEFCON 1.

I need help!

No, I don't!

Yes, I DO.

Noo..

YES! Invoking VETO for survival reasons.

A dramatic "damsel in distress" episode follows.

Day 28: Learns hard lessons in humility.

After three attempts, finds a kick-ass therapist.

Day 29: "RADICAL ACCEPTANCE," she said. I liked it.

Warning: No part of me EVER anticipated how MUCH effort this would take!! No part of me EVER anticipated how remarkably REWARDING this would be!!

Welcome to the post-therapy world.

Day 30: Payday!

Pain tolerance has leveled up!

Okay. This circus master job might be in the realm of possibility. Let's see if I can figure this out. I don't want to face myself on the other side of this.

I am spilling some beans here: I can be a real jerk! Smh.

Month 2: Repeat with therapy.

Introduction to sanity.

Reality feels very weird.

Month 3: Repeat Days 18–30.

Month 4: Whoa, CBT is freaking brilliant!

Month 5: CHAOS! CBT SUCKS!

Month 6:

Gets partial shit together.

I am a freaking badass!

God complex confetti.

Month 7: Like clockwork, slide back to Day 9.

Month 8: Starts seeing reality with diminishing "guns and roses" lenses.

Epiphany: The self-destructive instinct turned out to be self-love in disguise. It wants an end to my suffering. I mean, it has a point; the pain is pretty wild.

Common sense prevailed. Just like I don't act on my slap-every-annoying-jerk instinct, I could make friends, if not BFFs, with this darkness.

So tell me, morbid love, what do you think about these "not exactly perfect" options before we do irreversible stuff?

Let's get to problem-solving. All systems go.

Month 9:

Feels conflicted, overwhelmed, and lost.

There is a big data problem on my hands. How do I create a data model to make it make sense?

Advantage: Finally, an actual use for all those strategy, data modeling, and product management skills. Project management and accounting skills are just table stakes.

Warning: Old habits die hard! The temptation to slip back persists.

Month 10: Meh, it is what it is.

Scratches the surface of the beehive called Radical Acceptance.

Month 11: Yes, and… Discipline.

Month 12: Reflect. Damn, I am a survivor!

Finally, the cost-benefit analysis of patience has some empirical context.

Solidarity much?

Month 13: Now what? This healing business is going to take a while. I still have to live, right?!

Month 14: I can't be the only one. Where are all my outliers?

Finds Artists, Philosophers, Musicians, Comedians, Chefs, Scientists, Athletes.. Turns out they're everywhere.

Guess social media isn't all evil! Don't tell anyone I said that. Shhhhh!

Month 15: Accept support and connect. No way!! I am my own Knight in rusty armor.

Month 16: Do you want to be miserable, lonely, and bitter forever?

No! But I am too proud!!!!

Therapist nudges (more like straight-up whacks) those unrealistic expectations. Suddenly, new squigglies come back to life.

Month 17:

Epiphany: Pride is accruing debt, dumass! I can't do this on my own.

The W-word has entered the chat.

Month 18: Start taking down the walls. Too many bricks!

Month 19: This is going to be a significant effort. That cynicism has some deep roots. It's going to take an epic root canal. #saddadjokes

Month 20: Also… While you are at it, maybe don't hate yourself.

Month 21: But I am worthless. Disabled, out of a job, and let's not even open the can of worms that are my social skills!

Month 22: Okay.. What will make all this worth it? What the heck does worth even mean?

Month 23: Now, that's a real question.

The phoenix phase.

Months 24 to 51 were dedicated to grieving, problem-solving, and growing. She started sharing her journey through art. With mindfulness, CBT, and lifestyle overhauls, this grown-ass woman is finally in remission with only need-based medications. She is training to become an invisible world champion in chronic pain management and can kick Lupus' cold-warring butt. Furthermore, she is now a pro at getting ahead of stress and repurposing that energy into productive endeavors.

While "happily ever after" may never be a viable option, she has chosen a "keep her shit together for now" approach to life. Cheers to a meh-ever-after!

Until next time! Cheers.

Please note that I am not a medical professional and cannot provide medical advice. If you are struggling with chronic pain or mental health challenges, please consult with a qualified healthcare provider.