My Journey

So what birthed this podcast anyway? The short answer is this: other podcasts.

Guys there’s an amazing world of men and women out there that are changing the landscape through podcasting. Beautiful, encouraging podcasts where women connect over similar seasons of life, comedians that discuss deep thoughts and some that are just plain ol funny, theologians expand your knowledge, entrepreneurs offer advice, strangers who talk about despair, people sharing stories of the normal-ness of mental illness, and intellectuals make you think about your world.

Podcasts I listen to aren’t always about God, or spiritual, or about hope, or fuzzy feelings or even finding purpose though pain. Podcasts are about the entire myriad of people that are here in this earth. It’s like the heartbeat of our world.

Sometimes when you’re going through a tough time, knowing you aren’t the only one is comforting. As I’ve grown and become an overcomer of despair, I realized that I too want to represent this tapestry of individuals in the podcast world that make up our wonderful world of people. I want to be another voice that highlights the things I feel and think because I know that there must be others out there looking for a voice like mine to represent theirs. This, my friends, is how Constantly Under Construction was born.

So where’s an overcomer of despair to begin her story? Difficulties I have endured begin at my childhood. There’s abuse and emotional trauma but God has not led me to share those moments in my life yet. Instead, I’ll start 8 years into my marriage.

It was few months into our role as new parents when our dog, our fur baby (our baby before human babies) died from a seizure that took away his brain function. It was and it was tragic to watch him go.

Not even month later, my brother died from a heroin addiction that we tirelessly attempted to save him from. Because this battle was long and exhausting, the feelings I had immediately after my brother’s death were not of grief but of numbness. When you’ve lost a loved one to an addiction, meaning, when they have changed completely from the person they were to someone you no longer recognize, you grieve that loss well before any death has occurred. The numbness was probably also a sign of something else I was dealing with that I was not aware of. Post Partum Depression. About 9 months into my son’s young life, I realized that I was carrying months of undiagnosed postpartum depression that morphed into a new level of despair from the difficult times and unexpected losses.

After tragedy hit my family first with my brother’s death, the burden became unbearable very quickly when my four-year-old nephew died from health complications of a heart defect. The people, my people, my flesh and blood around me were as sad as I was and friends and co-workers were just too overwhelmed with the amount of tragedy they had to witness and ill-equipped to help. It was the definition of loneliness. Unable to grieve together, my family sort of scattered to handle the horrific tragedies we all experienced on their own.

I floated through life. Trying to enjoy my son and becoming pregnant with another.

In these short two years, I managed two pregnancies and stumbled through motherhood, feeling lost in my role and alone in my specific circumstance. Nobody else around me seemed to struggle with the ‘normal-ness’ of being a mother, (I mean, adult-ing was just impossibly hard for me and I felt very much like an alien as I watched how others navigated life and I just couldn’t keep up.) This was incredibly hard as a mom trying to figure out her role but became even more difficult and lonely as I felt misunderstood while constantly having grief of death hanging over my head.

Illness and Disbelief

The final nail in the coffin was just after my 2nd son was born. I began to feel sick, really sick. But my sickness was indescribable. I often felt like I was dying. Pain and fatigue radiated throughout my entire body. Lights were unbearably bright and I walked around in a mental fog. My hearing and vision would fluctuate and I would often have bouts with vertigo and migraines. At first, I truly wondered how people with more than one child managed life. Because I was doing a horrible job at keeping up. I thought my symptoms were purely part of a postpartum body and the adjustment from one child to two. As the months went on, things did not get better. On top of fatigue, migrating pain, and strange dizziness and light sensitivity, My memory and cognitive thinking became terrible. I couldn’t do simple math, understand anything I read, nor remember names of people I’ve known my whole life.
Simple, everyday tasks were becoming impossible. And the many, many doctors I would visit didn’t have answers for me. Even though I was steady working at the salon and a breast feeding mom of a young baby and a toddler, finding a diagnosis became a full time job. In the six months that I fervently attempted to get help, I saw 22 doctors and specialists that resulted in being passed on to yet another doctor or have some that would turn me away.
Many times I was told my symptoms were non-specific to one diagnosis. Often, they would pull Christopher aside and suggest antidepressants and counseling were the only cures, implying that it was all in my head.
I had ruled out and exhausted almost every option from every medical professional and it was ironically WebMD that led me to the one diagnosis that had not been explored: After typing in my laundry list of symptoms, I crossed off all of the results that had been ruled out by tests and most doctor’s expert opinion: some of the results were life changing and some could be remedied at your local drugstore with over the counter relief. But none of them were my diagnosis: Lupus, Fibromyalgia, MS, Sinusitis, Thyroid Eye Disease, Allergies, Vertigo, Inner Ear Infection, pink eye, dry eye, arthritis, were some of the ones I crossed off my list.

But the only one that remained the only one that had never been explored the only one that was still a consideration and the only one left was Lyme Disease.

Self-advocacy and Journey to Health

Back in 2010, there was little information about Lyme on the internet. No celebrity was linked to the disease. You didn’t hear about from Yolanda of real housewives or Avril Lavigne or Debbie Gibson. Daryl Hall from Hall and Oats was talking about it but nobody was listening. and very few people knew about it. I did my best googling but the lonely journey continued as I found that most doctors did not acknowledge Lyme as a legitimate chronic illness. I learned that many people had to seek help from doctors that were many states or countries away.

These doctors were known as Lyme literate doctors . Luckily, I found a Lyme Literate Doctor that was only 2 hours away. And the the tiniest steps of healing my body began. But the outlook was grim as there is not one cure for Lyme. Not a quick fix. Just as my diagnosis was vague and not easy to understand, the success rate for healing was just as unclear. There’s not a set path for healing with Lyme, no tried and true protocol. As talented as my doctor is, he’s just doing his best to attack the bacteria that wreaks havoc as quickly as he learns about it.

Four long years of non-stop antibiotics and drugs became my protocol. And brought me slow but initial healing. No longer bed ridden, debilitated, and fatigued. But the healing had just begun. In those 4 years of attacking Lyme, your body goes through through so much to kill the lime bacteria. And in that time there were so many other complications that pop up in the process.

I’ve survived candida, thyroid disease, severe hormone imbalances, poor gut health, sluggish kidney and liver function, migraines, autoimmune and inflammation disorders and aggressive strains of mono, strep, staph, and parasites. And even found that part of my ill health is due to a genetic mutation, MTHFR. But I pressed on and got myself to a point where I felt semi-normal. Because of this light we were seeing at the end of our tunnel, We decided to jump head first into another pregnancy feeling like there was no more point in waiting to be 100% because we aren’t guaranteed 100% of anything. My last son brought us so much joy. We have no regrets. But the damage antibiotics, three pregnancies, stress, and newly found ailments have continue to put a strain on my body. And this caused me to be a life long advocate of my health. And after my last pregnancy, thyroid, adrenal, and hormone issues have become my newest health battle. The list of 22 doctors has more than tripled and has ranged from every variety: from charlatan witch doctor to noble respected health professional and everything in between. But no matter their diagnosis or protocol, one thing became consistent; only I️ can advocate for my health. I’ve learned the confidence of knowing my own body. I️ got over the ptsd of physical pain and emotional disbelief the doctors shamed me with. Hair loss, acne, and weight gain and chemical depression/anxiety have been the result of these newer health trials. I’ve watched my outer beauty fade and I’ve questioned my worth because of it. Daily I must lay these trials at the feet of Jesus because I sometimes get twisted thoughts. Like how I would rather have my Lyme symptoms back because at least then I looked pretty with full hair, thin face, and clear skin. For those who’ve suffered with acne or hair loss, you know how real this feels. How embarrassing it feels. How lonely it feels.

My emotions, my body, and my spirit have endured so much. And for a lot of it I’ve felt alone.

Growth, Hope, and Community

But, in my loneliness I’ve grown. In my illness and loss, I learned that everyone has a struggle, a setback, a tragedy.

My journey hasn’t ended and there’s not a well-packaged positive ending. Because there isn’t an ‘ending’. I am Constantly Under Construction.

I’ve learned that it’s ok not to be ok. It’s normal to not have a pretty wrapped-with-a-bow ending to a hardship story.
The hardships I’ve endured are a gift bigger than a perfect destination. Through everything I have experienced, it’s brought me closer to people who have also dealt with grief, loss, illness, and loneliness. This has given me a connection with those who feel disconnected.. It’s opened my eyes to the beauty of pain and what it teaches us about living and loving fully.

I’m glad for my hardships. The only thing I’d hate more than what I’ve gone through…is who I would be if I hadn’t. And I’ve been given hope by seeing the struggle and endurance in other people’s lives.

So many wonderful, inspiring lives have seen the value of difficult challenges. And it’s with this podcast, that I highlight and share those journeys.