The Beginning.

I must have sounded crazy when I asked my childhood best friend if she experienced pain everyday. I remember thinking I was nervous to ask her, because I knew I would sound strange. With a confused look on her face she said, "No...". I can't remember if she asked why or not, but if she did I don't remember what I said. I do remember realizing that I was different. There was something wrong with me. At this point, I didn't know if I was crazy, or if I had a legit health concern. You ask why I thought I could be crazy? Well, several doctors told me nothing was wrong.

What does a young teen think when a doctor tells you nothing is wrong? That they cant find anything wrong with you? Do you believe the doctor like you were taught to your whole life? To trust them because doctors are supposed to be helping people, not telling them they are essentially crazy. I remember the chronic pain started about the same time I started puberty. I was maybe 11 or 12 years old. I was sitting in my 5th grade school classroom feeling like I had to pee really bad, but the problem was I had just gotten back from using the restroom. I still felt like I had to go, but at the same time it was painful.

Some people would have thought, okay she must have a bladder infection. Well, I didn't. So what is causing this pain? I was too embarrassed to ask about it. And honestly, I don't think my parents would have listened to me if I brought it up. They would have believed the doctor as well. So in hindsight, it doesnt really matter if they had taken me to the doctor or not.

It got bad enough I was sitting in the bathroom, in pain, for hours. I read the bottles near me, sometimes I took a book because I knew if I used the bathroom I would start to be in what felt like a bladder infection.

I woke up in the middle of the night on a regular basis and got into the bathtub and cried for hours. The water would be cold, but I didn't care, the pain I felt was worse. I became extremely depressed. I guess that isn't surprising. When someone is in pain nearly all day and all night, and being told nothing is wrong with you, you start to think you are crazy.

I cant explain how often I cried. I cried because my parents were not listening. I cried because the doctors who I used to trust were telling me I was insane and psychosomatic. I was put on all types of anti-depressants. They just messed me up further. I still today 20 years later, do not know what it feels like to be unmedicated.

As time went on, the pain got worse. When I started to go into my mid teens my mother stopped going into the doctors office with me. She would give me a check and send me in by myself. I had no one to be my cheerleader, no one to believe me or help me find what was wrong with me. I felt like my mom gave up on me. In hindsight, I realized she was going through her own mental and emotional issues, so I forgave her. It still does not mean the insecurity i felt from being left on my own to fend for myself with a doctor who is starting to think I just want attention.

I was told by a D.O. doctor once I just needed to try to eat more almonds. I need more omega fatty acids. At that point, I started to cry and she asked if I was on any anti-depressant medications. I remember looking up at her and saying I wasnt there for my depression. I was there to get help for the chronic pain I had.

Along with the chronic pain of feeling like I had to pee, I started to feel sore all over my body. This started around 15 years old. I was trying to play soccer for my junior high, but I felt like I couldn't keep up. I felt unhealthy. I was trying to be normal, but in the end i was set aside because I was more of a hinderance for the team than a player who deserved to be on the field. I dont blame the coaches...i think one of the coaches could tell something was physically wrong, and it wasn't because I was unfit. It was something deeper in me causing me to not be able to play to my best potential.

One morning on the way to school I felt the worst pain I had so far experienced. It was enough that my mom finally took me to the emergency room. I was in 8th grade, so I must have been around 15 years old.

Because of the location of my pain, the doctor wanted to check to see if I had an UTI...negative. They had a female doctor come in and check everything female related with me. Nothing out of the ordinary there. Then, after I got dressed, a male doctor comes into the room. He sits down with me and starts asking if I was being hurt at home. My mom wasn't in the patient room at this point. All i could do was shake my head and quietly say "no". The truth is I was not being hurt at home, except the part about feeling like no one is listening to me, or believing something was wrong with my physically. I felt like I had no one on my side to help me make grown up decisions. But no, I wasnt being assaulted at home or felt scared at home. I always remember thinking the doctor didnt believe me. Afterall, the pain i was describing could pass as someone having been sexually assaulted. Along with my overall body pain. Of course, at the time I did not know these things.