I haven’t been writing much, or reading anything at length, for over a yea now. ​When people ask why I’m so tired all the time, or why I’m gripping my lower abdomen in pain, why I have trouble sleeping, why I need to be alone in the bathroom or curled in bed so often… I will sometimes tell them,

“I have Endometriosis.”

The inevitable response is usually along the lines of, “What the heck is Endo-what’s-it?”

Most people have never heard of it, and it hits women in varied ways. Approximately 8% of women (5 million) have it in the U.S. alone. Though many don’t get treatment or a diagnosis for it.

The basics (Fair warning, medical terms and descriptions):

* Extremely long menstruation, and occasional spotting in between. I’ve been told a normal period is 3-5 days. Mine are 7-10. It’s hell.
* Severe menstrual pain. “Isn’t that just period cramps,” you ask? Uh, no. Pain when ovulating. Pain during sex. Pain after sex. Pain during pre-menstrual time (PMS), and yes, period cramps much worse than normal. Knife twisting in the gut pain.
* Endo-Fatigue which is debilitating and causes constant lethargy. You feel like doing nothing, but can never get fully rested.
* Chronic pain in the lower back, pelvis, and calves.
* Chronic intestinal pain and discomfort.
* Painful bowel movements leading to hemorrhoids, and painful urination during menstruation.
* Trouble getting pregnant can occur if you need a laparoscopy or don’t have any treatment.

For me it is all of the above. I had no trouble getting pregnant, but that is because I was on birth control to manage the symptoms for over 5 years and still young. I am always tired, always feeling discomfort somewhere, and always aware that I have this issue. Try planning a vacation around week long periods! I am bleeding 9-12 days out of 30. Just yesterday I was speaking to a group at work and had to excuse myself to the bathroom after doubling over in pain complete with hot flashes and a migraine. Much of the time, I forget I have it…

What the heck is it?

Endometriosis happens when tissue that is normally on the inside of your uterus or womb grows outside of your uterus or womb where it doesn’t belong. Endometriosis growths bleed in the same way the lining inside of your uterus does every month — during your menstrual period. This can cause swelling and pain because the tissue grows and bleeds in an area where it cannot easily get out of your body.

What can you do to help a person with Endo?

~ Recognize they have the illness, for a start. Do not say, “You’re always tired, have some coffee!” Or, “Have you tried Midol?”
~ Don’t invite them to have Mexican if you know they have stomachs issues. If I get invited to Mexican one more time…
~ Don’t get pissed when they don’t want sex if you are dating or have a partner with Endo. Would you want it if you knew you’d start crying in pain?
~ Understand that Chronic pain with endo comes and goes, so they can be perfectly capable one day, but unable to make dinner or walk through the grocery store the next.

This is me. Like I said at the onset, endometriosis effects everyone differently. I hope I’ve helped educate everyone this writing reaches, and I can get back into reading and writing soon!

It’s my 28th birthday. And I’m contemplating writing a memoir. To do this, I need to face some hard truths about my childhood. Thinking about how open and honest Jeanette Walls was in Glass Castles, I wrote down the hardest part. It turned into a sort of poem. This is not easy to write, or read, but I’m sharing it in hopes that others identify with my truth.

TW: Trigger Warning for mentions of molestation, rape, and abuse.

When people learn about my childhood abuse, they usually have one of two reactions: Shock or pity.

I understand the shock from people who were never abused, or are still naive. The can’t fathom how the man that everyone liked, who raised me as a second father from age four on, could have hurt me sexually. They really can’t understand how it went on for over four years while I was in 6-10th grade (11-15). Or how it happened to boys as well (“But he’s straight?!”).

There’s also the shock that I’m not a hooker, nor was I a pregnant teen, or ever on drugs. I get this reaction. It’s what they hear on the news, and drama TV shows, as what happens to girls like me. I nod and say, “Yep, I turned out alright,” before moving on to a more comfortable topic for them. Perhaps my multiple degrees, or happy family life.

I get the pity too, though I can’t stand it. Sure, feel sorry for me, whatever, shit happens. It is a sorry world that this bullshit occurs every day to too many children. But don’t tell me, “You’re a survivor!” Like it’s some big accomplishment for making it through my day.

I am not a survivor. A woman who was raped, assaulted, beaten, and/or molested against her will is a survivor. She survived that incident. Or multiple incidents. She fought her demons and came out ahead, living her life despite her attacker’s attempts to diminish her. She should be celebrated!

But I am not a survivor. I lived my life. I was groomed. My first introduction to my sexuality was from my molester. My step-father. This happened daily to weekly, sometimes with months in between. For years.

But I’m not a survivor. To say I’m a survivor is to put the power in my molester’s hands. I did not survive him, I lived my life. I was a strong, independent person before him, and I am a strong independent person after. I don’t need pity or celebration for my personality, I need friends who know sh*t happens, and don’t care.

I am not a survivor, but I’m also not unchanged. He is in prison for a minimum of 20 years, max 30. At 62 and in bad health, that is a life sentence. But I still have intrusive thoughts. I still can’t imagine being intimate with a bald or overly hairy man, let alone anyone who is old enough to be my father. The smell of cigarettes or old spice gives me hives. But I’m so thankful to have a loving and supportive husband who gets these things and helped make me whole.

I am not a survivor. I am a strong, independent woman, who doesn’t take any crap. Because I know how shitty life can be if you let it. Don’t pity me, don’t celebrate me, see me.