The Weight

The Burden

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Shakespeare put it best when he said “…uneasy lies the head that wears a crown…” There is a heavy burden that goes along with being in charge or being in command. But the burden that ways a person down is life.

Many songwriters, poets and philosophers have written about weight. The weight of the universe weighing someone down or the burden of loving someone with an addiction. They speak of weight as a burden.

Heartache and Loneliness

The song “Weight of Love” by The Black Keys talks about the need to not be lonely can lead to self-destructive behavior. It’s told from the view of a person who cares for someone that they have become estranged from. The person is begging that the other does not give in to the weight of love.

The weight that comes with heartache and loneliness is heavy. After my divorce, I found myself looking for a way to ease the pain. I made some mistakes and did some things that I am not proud of.

Self-destructive behavior is part of the Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD). People with this disorder become blinded by the weight and so focused on it that they don’t see a way out. This is something that can happen to anyone that is going through struggles in his/her life.

Too Much

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Sometimes the weight of our daily burden can feel like so much. It may be the daily struggle with depression, with pain or with a health problem. The weight of the daily load becomes some much that you feel like Atlas trying to hold up the world and everything together.

“Even Atlas shrugged…”

I know that sometimes I try to carry too many burdens, too much of the weight by myself. It’s hard, but sometimes you have to ask for help with your load. Or take a step back and realize that you’re carrying a load that isn’t your own.

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I have been struggling with health problems and mental illness. Dealing with health problems and a mental illness can sometimes become overwhelming.

I find myself trying to be strong, trying to stoic through it all. Dealing with the physical quietly, hiding away the mental pain and trying to handle it all by myself. Pain can turn me into tea kettle on the stove. I reach a that point and start yelling, or crying.

I have suffered from endometriosis for years. I had my uterus removed in 2015 and was pain free until July. The pain returned, I found myself having another Laparoscopy and having more endometriosis removed.

Endometriosis is grown by the hormone the female body releases to cause a period. This hormone is released by the ovaries. I still have ovaries and I am not taking any hormones to dampen out the period hormone, so it grew back.

When the pain started, I feared this was what was happening. My fear was confirmed with the laparoscopy. I felt better for two weeks, but unfortunately it did not last. When the third week arrived, the period week, I began having devastating period cramps without a period.

The pain was so overwhelming I became nauseated and doubled over with it. I used a heating pad, took Advil and Tylenol trying to find some sort of relief. On the second day, I started my day with Advil, waited and then took Tylenol. I thought that taking it before the pain set in I would be able to curb some of it.

I was wrong. I had an appointment with my Rheumatologist at 2:15 PM and I found myself breathless with pain when I checked in. I felt some irritation when the receptionist informed me that my insurance information was gone, but I hurt too much to really care and I gave her my card. I went back to the room and was asked how I was doing, I explained I was having horrible cramps.

I sat on the exam room table wanting it all to be over… to just end… The nurse informed me that my medications were not listed on my chart, because they too had been lost like my insurance information. I bit back the annoyance and swallowed down a wave of pain. I fought to collect my thoughts enough make a lucid account of the list medications.

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My doctor came into the room asking me how I was. I could feel myself choking back the tears of pain. I slowly began to tell him about my troubles.

I told him about the pain, the surgery, the frustration of it all. To my surprise, he was eager to discuss it with me. He told me that it was not a disease he treated, but he wanted to know more it and what the treatment plan was.

He made notes from our discussion in my chart and showed real interest in what I was going through, even though he could do nothing.

He gave me that bit of compassion, knowledge and understanding I needed in that moment. Releasing me from the weight of the burden. The pain was still there, but the tears and frustration were abated.

Releasing me from that weight allowed me to be able to discuss my Lupus problems with him. Problems he could treat and help fix.