Bring Back Mikey

This is one of those things you don't really expect to have to do, but then when you have to do it every word doesn't seem to come out right. But let's see if I can shed some light on the situation at hand. Ahem:

My name is Mikey. I was reasonably tall, lanky, and possibly in love with everything and everyone around me just because it existed and was there. I graduated from CHAMPS Charter High in 2014 with a group of people I'm sure will be my friends until the grave- the kinds of people that would light fireworks for you and celebrate your life instead of only crying over your end. After High School was done away with, my eyes were set on a pretty much boundless future (really though, there was so much to try out in this world that it still sends me spinning.) I set off into the 'adult world' and tried my hand at this thing called life for a bit. Eager to get the ball rolling even further, I was ready to apply to college, pursue a career, and meet the love of my life. You know, the things that every person should have a chance to do. But like I said- the world sent me spinning.

 Towards the end of 2014 I was disgnosed with an autoimmune condition known as Hashimoto's thyroiditis. That's a big ugly word for 'my thyroid doesn't like itself and beats itself up- a lot. Autoimmunity is a life-time struggle where you own cells turn and attack themselves- and those with one autoimmune disease are most likely to develop many more. In my case I'm having severe digestion issues attributed to something called "increased intestinal permeability" meaning my stomach is basically like a wedge of swiss cheese. It struggles to digest foods correctly, and the undigested food proteins escape into my blood where I develop multiple delayed food allergies and subsequent symptoms around the clock. This in turn prevents my liver from functioning at full capacity and allows for a build up of toxins in my body that lead to the mystery amalgam illnesses known as Fibromyalgia/CFS/ME. 

And the worst part is that this could have been completely avoided.

See I knew something was wrong long before anything was serious- I knew my health was tanking day after day but standard doctors gave me the thumbs up every time. Even after having most of my blood taken away for months of every test imaginable still said I was all good and normal. Even after bringing up my thyroid and adrenals and a slew of alternative medicine and ideas I learned myself- the blood was okay so I was apparently too. I later found out from my newest doctor that the signs were all incredibly present in every blood test and that the people interpretting them were obviously uneducated.  If there's two things to learn, and remember well from this-

1.) Your doctor is not a god: you know your body better than anyone. Your health depends on bolstering your own education and working with doctors as team effort; do not give them full control. 

2.) Standard allopathic medicine (regular doctors) works like trying to stop a boat from sinking by taking out cups of water each time instead of plugging the damn hole. Find a holistic doctor who will work with you to find the root cause of your issues.

But I digress. When antibodies (the bad guys that attack your thyroid) finally showed up in my blood it was too late, doctors said there was no cure and that I was going to be on medication that I have to increase constantly for my whole life. I was devastated. Even on the medication my hair started to thin, my skin got dry, my stomach stopped digesting foods normally and began to react to every food I was eating. I dropped weight every day no matter what I ate and was constantly, and I mean constantly switching between sleepless anxiety sweaty nights to catatonic cold-bodied depression during the day. I was lucky to get two or three hours of okay sleep. I had to quit working- I could barely get out of bed in the morning. I sat and watched people go about their lives from my window, and was lucky if I had enough energy to sometimes do the laundry. I stopped seeing anybody and stopped talking to all of my friends. I was hunched over, dangerously skinny, and no longer loved the world around me. I wasn't Mikey. And I couldn't remember what he was like. Nobody could tell me what was wrong. My parents told me it was all in my head.

Chronic fatigue, an unrelenting, cloudy, murky mind and depression were every day realities; dropping cognition and mental function I once used to pride myself on were constant casualties. I can't read a book anymore and understand it. I can't piece together words in writing that used to make me feel brilliant and alive. Nothing gave relief and it was only getting worse.

I'd be blatantly lying if I said I wasn't ready to stop trying and end it all after every sleepless night.

But I kept writing- I kept a journal. I wrote what things I wanted to do when this was over. I made up memories I yet to experience, remembered friends I missed yet never called. What places I wanted to see, what foods I couldn't wait to eat, and what people I wanted to see smiling more than anything. And it became the only thing tethering me to trying.

But just trying wasn't getting me far enough.


And then it hit me today that I have no reason to do this alone.

To those closest to me I'm so sorry for staying quiet throughout this whole ordeal and shutting myself in. I'm sorry for dropping out of your lives and never checking in. I'm sorry I didn't ask for you guys sooner but I'm ready to now. 

So I'm back on track and for the first time in a long while hopeful while looking to start proper treatment. I've been in the 'cahoots' with a new doctor (who has been another blessing. I mean this guy sits and talks with me like we're old buddies, has explained to me what is going on and how to fix it from the root, and has been more than accomodating with my inability to pay right away). But unfortunately the fact still remains; I can't pay.

I can't afford new medication or tests and I've been homebound and unable to work. My poor parents are already so stressed out, lost, confused and broken from all the medical bills that I couldn't think of asking them to take the leap again with a new doctor so I'm trying to take matters into my own hands by pan-handling out of yours. If I had a carboard sign I'd hold it up right about now. 

"Just trying to survive. Every bit helps. Every thought matters."

So there you have it. This life makes no sense, absolutely no sense at all.

But I still think that's the most beautiful part about it.

Never be afraid to ask for help, and never feel less about yourself for asking for it. That's why there's people around you. You're not alone, even if you try to be. Chances are at that some point they'll need your help too, and when that time comes- and it will- you'll realize that being needed is the greatest compliment you can recieve.

It's a beautiful world through and through. Thank you for listening to me rant. Thank you for being you.

Signing off,

Mikey Can't Stop Me Now Korbelak

(Love you all.)