Today, I pushed through the pain and fatigue
Because Heaven Stands
Today, I knew God would give me the strength
Because Heaven Stands
Unable to go to church for 72 weeks
But Heaven Stands
I’ll probably spend the next two days asleep
But Heaven Stands
–
Today I will praise through the sickness and pain
Because Heaven Stands
Today I don’t care how much it may rain
Because Heaven Stands
Today I am clinging to the One who reigns,
Because Heaven Stands
All doubt and all fear can get out of the way
Because Heaven Stands
–
Today, I am taking a leap of faith
Because Heaven Stands
Today I’m releasing my burdens, their weight
Because Heaven Stands
I will worship and fall on my knees as I pray
Because Heaven Stands
All this is possible only in His name
Because Heaven Stands
–
Today, I’m claiming His strength in me
Because Heaven Stands
Today, I’m rejoicing in victory
Because Heaven Stands
Today Satan is crushed by defeat
Because Heaven Stands
So today, when I go to see
The clothes available to me
To put on my temple body
I will go with, simply
Heaven Stands.

The cacophony of anxiety
​
The room
is cacophony
The noise
the lights
the people
the movement
the noise
the room
Everyone's staring


Muscles tense
involuntary
I notice only because
my knuckles
are past-white
almost translucent
as my hand hides
a green foam ball
tightly inside its
palm cave


Body shakes
in response
Constant trembling
unable to catch
a breath
while heart
reminds sternum
and rib cage
it could beat
hard enough
to pummel its way
out of
my chest
anytime it chooses



Throat closes
teeth clench
jaw locks
eyes freeze
eyes close
they see nothing
they see everything
they are frozen
I am frozen
I am thawed
I feel it all
and nothing
I know the name
of this...
feeling
sensation
mind body soul
brain heart blood
muscles nerves thoughts
whole being
experience


Welcome to
anxiety
population me
and simultaneously
not


Copyright Becca Doss, 2017

The pain monster screams.

Air so heavy and void of light

drowns the noise

in silence.

Silence louder than the gray jackhammer drilling gray thoughts in the grey matter.

This is night.

This is also dawn and midday and dusk,

and somewhere between the latter and former-most,

this is the infomercials no one sees or cares about,

three easy payments of 19.99,

except the pain monster.

The monster sees these and cares,

prime time for screaming,

Dateline News airtime for pain.

Exclusive 60 minutes broadcast from the cacophonous construction site-

Destruction site-

What a sight.

Only here, can only be heard here, come one come all,

come witness that which exceeds the limits of reason and logic and capacity of the human mind and laws of sound and hearing and screaming.

The pain monster silently screams and cries from its unseen cage,

evading notice by colleagues, family, friends,

and those who were formerly so.

How lucky any one is who has not met the monster face to face.

Because there is no easy payment plan,

nothing to quell the pain monster's appetite-

a strict diet of screams that must be consumed constantly,

diametric-but-not noise and silence,

every moment, every day,

for so long you forget who's doing the consuming-

You have been consumed by the pain monster and the only way out is ...

Copyright Becca Doss 2015

(Written August 19, 2013. Just now getting around to sharing it. This short poem was intended to convey the 24/7 headache pain that has been a part of my life for over 2 years. I'd venture to say many others who are dealing with chronic Lyme & Co's can totally understand the imagery. Sharing it because the headache is one symptom that God hasn't seen fit to remove...yet)

Written 1/15/2014 for my wonderful husband, Roger. Just now getting around to sharing it because it got lost among the many notes I have saved on my phone.



The blessing most dear




Every so often I look at a picture of you

and think, "how lucky I am"

Often a memory from years past

Laughter and life in our eyes we both wish could've lasted.



But God had other plans for us outside of what we knew back then--

We certainly didn't ask for this journey,

and often pray it will soon end.



Through trials of every possible kind,

mental, financial, physical, loss,

There's one thing that always holds true,

Together, these bridges we cross.



Some people assume hard things get easier

the more they show their face.

But we know different--they don't become easier--

they're just more commonplace.



But the commonplace things that not everyone sees,

are treasures I hold very dear.

How your eyes smile more than your mouth when you're looking at me--

In those moments, my worries are cleared.



And the silent way in which you go about your day

doing what has to be done--

You always make time to say to me

something purely intended for fun.



The way you talk to our cats and dog,

not realizing I'm listening in--

Even in little actions like this,

I'm reminded that daily I win.



I win because even through all the struggles

of the seemingly immeasurable kind,

We're traveling this journey of life hand-in-hand,

and I'm so glad you chose to take mine.



No one else could I imagine beside me

each and every day.

And I hope there have also been times when I have

helped you find your way.



This thing we signed up for, there's no passing Go

to quickly skip over the bad.

But once we're victorious over these battles,

just think of the stories we'll have!



And someday down the road, could be later or sooner,

whenever God deems it fit--

There's no doubt in my mind we will live and embrace

all the fun and excitement we've missed!



Because me being sick doesn't define our lives,

even though it oft feels that way.

But we will get the life we once had back again--

I truly can't wait for that day!



The thing I most want to say to you, though,

the reason I've written this here,

is that in the middle of what looks a mess,

God makes my every blessing clear--



And the best of the best of all of the blessings is knowing you are with me here.



And that's the one blessing of all of the blessings I will always hold most dear.



Copyright Becca Doss 2014

Things have been tougher than normal these past several months (really, 2015 has been the roughest year yet, overall, as far as physical symptoms go and as far as the emotional/spiritual aspect of this journey is concerned). I've never given up hope that God is fighting for me and will deliver me from these diseases, but the longer I fight, the harder it is to really feel that truth, and I think that's a normal human reaction, and I think God understands when we feel worn down and defeated (like the apostle Paul said in 2 Corinthians 4:8-9, "I am pressed but not crushed, persecuted not abandoned, struck down but not destroyed"). No, this life isn't difficult at all compared to some journeys we learn about via God's word (there are many, but Job comes to mind), but that doesn't mean it's easy in the context of today's world. I was in an emotionally down place when I wrote this a few weeks ago, but I believe it's vital to share things that showcase true emotions as well as things that are strictly centered on the positives.

I live in a free world




I live in a free world, but it's not what you think.

It's nothing to do with the country I live in,

Nor the fact I can speak my mind,

Worship openly,

Wear whatever I want,

Or own a gun if I so choose.

(I don't)




My free world defies common perceptions,

Established conventions are left at the door

Of my free world.

Disproving all beliefs I held before,

Of what it means to be free and what it means to be in the world.




I really should say I live in a world free.




It's not by choice I live in a world free.

It was a world forced upon me years before I knew of its existence.

It's a world free of gluten and dairy and sugar and yeast and of course those colorful pieces of pure sugar--called candy--and colored dyes I loved to eat as a child (and an adult)--

The rest of that list is far too exhaustive to write.

It's a world free of chemicals and toxic garbage that fills our modern day "free world."

It's a world free of fistfuls of prescription medications that do nothing to help and do a subpar job at even masking the symptoms they're intended to eliminate.




Which sounds all well and healthy and good.




Until you realize I live in a world free of joy,

A world free of presentable hair and matching clothes,

(Because who cares what you look like when your biggest accomplishment is spending a few hours out of bed and on your living room couch?)

A world free of energy and brain function and basic human abilities.

A world free of walking, writing, reading, and driving,

And going ice skating whenever I want,

just because I can.




A world free of human interaction and ventures outside my home or bed,

A world free of health and a world free of starting a family.

(The one thing my husband longs for most)

A world free of watching my husband play in the praise band on Sunday mornings and attending small group meetings mid-week.




I live in a world free of all of this and so much more,

But most of all I live in a world free of me--




Which is what reminds me I don't live in a free world at all.

I just live in a world free.





Copyright Becca Doss, 2014

When I created this poetry page, I said from the beginning that the poems I share will be both Lyme-related and non-Lyme-related.  Writing is the one way I'm able to disconnect from all the Lyme & Co craziness that has become my life, and get back in touch with the Becca who graduated college with an English degree and a minor in Creative Writing, and who hand-wrote a 46 page work of fiction in a notebook in 6th grade just because I got bored during Christmas break.  Writing is my escape, the way I best process emotions and thoughts, no matter the topic.  Even if I'm writing an informative piece with scientific Lyme jargon, I'm most in my element when I'm writing, and writing has an innate ability to foster healing in my body and mind--so even though the poem itself isn't Lyme-related, the fact I'm posting it here ultimately is.  I've been slacking on posting poems here so far, but as I sit here at home today in a state of "I miss Neni so much I don't know how my heart can stand it anymore," I realize I have to share this poem I wrote a few months ago.  It's part of a book I eventually am going to write, but who knows when that dream will be fully realized, so for now I'm just going to share the poem.

And for those of you who don't know, "Neni" is (was) my great aunt, my Granddad's sister, who went home to heaven in February of last year, just 4 months and 12 days after my Granddad went home to be with Jesus (I don't think those dates are dates I'll ever forget), and she was a 5th grandparent to me in all ways except the direct biological line.  And this poem is about her.
________________

It’s just me

Thank you for always letting me know it was just you.

Although that phrase that just doesn’t sit right with me.

Just.

When I think about it, that word has no business there,

and I find myself desperate to see you,

desperate to hug you,

desperate to tell you,

it was never “just” you.



You may have been calling on just a regular Tuesday,

or just to let me know what the show boat television doctor talked about today,

which you wrote down, just in case.

But never in my life was it “just” you.

I wish I could make a list of every extant word with a greater meaning,

and use them to explain how much you mean to me,

but it would just be a futile effort.

Because they are just words,

and wishes are just wishes,

but you are not “just” you--

You never were.

Never will be.



You are the perfectly purple violets that surface for a few weeks before the summer sun dries them out.

Without you, they would just be flowers.

You are the *pop* of a seal being broken on a brand new box of orange tic-tacs.

Without you, they would just be candy.

You are the autumn leaves when they change to such a pretty red color that I hesitate before riding my bike across them.

Without you, they would just be pretty leaves.

You are the comforting warmth surrounding every aspect of freshly baked pumpkin bread.

Without you, it would just be something to eat during the holiday season.

You are the sturdiness of a park bench where two are sitting, one young, one older, hand-in-hand, feeding bread crumbs to the birds.

Without you, it would just be a bench and the birds would just be pigeons.

You are so many things, but never “just” you.



But I get it now.

You always wanted to make sure I was living my life as fully as I could,

you never wanted to interrupt anything important that was going on,

and I wish I had the chance to tell you now,

I was just wasting time on the internet.

It was just a TV show.

It was just a nap.

But it was never “just” you.

So I had aspirations for writing a blog about enjoying Valentine's Day while dealing with a chronic illness, whether spending it with someone else or not, but I never really got that longed-for inspiration.

Then, tonight (technically Valentine's Day since it was after midnight), as I lie in bed wide awake (I at least partially blame the full moon), I had one thought, which led to another, which led to another, and when a thought train like that hits a writer, well, you have to write it down. So I did. And this poem isn't primarily about Lyme, but it is a factor in the message, so I figured what better place to post than on the poetry section of my blog?

This is for you, Rog. Happy Valentine's Day. <3

________________

Everyday Valentines

12:51am

Valentine's Day is here.

And all I can think about is the poem I wrote you last year--

almost exactly a year, to this very minute--

also written while you were sleeping--

and how much has changed

while everything is the same.

I remember how hopeful we were 365 days ago.

Well, 365 and 1/4th but who's counting?

The very day we drove northward

to the fancy buildings with the big name and so-called experts we hoped were the Sherlock to our

then-medical mystery.

And it was OUR medical mystery--

not MINE, as we used to say.

We know that now because Casebook: Becca, now solved,

is omnipresent in our lives, our relationship, our home.

And never ceases to remind us.

Even today,

the day where all I want to do is pretend "it" doesn't exist,

the day where I long to be able to undertake some great, creative feat,

proclaiming my devotion to and love for you,

the bright, full circle of light in the night sky would rather I not.

So instead, I lie awake,

desperately wishing a TARDIS into existence,

(Or a Delorean with a flux capacitor--

your lifelong machine of choice),

and that I could pilot us back.

I'd go back to our wedding, but only for a day,

because while it was the happiest day of my life, I want to relive every moment leading up to it.

Every moment that seemed small at the time--

Every weekend you visited me at school--

The countless dates that earned us our "movie wachingest couple ever" title--

Every year we rode together in your car as my family rode in theirs traveling to the beach--

back when I refused to sleep in the car and said it was because I didn't want you to get bored on the long trip, but really it was because I loved talking about everything that came to mind and making you listen to my music (you even tolerated the Beatles, not your favorite).

Talking on the phone every night, usually longer than we should,

and nightly reminding you that 'all that jazz' is a great song, but not as good as Christmas songs, except for that one blasted Harry Connick Jr. Christmas album I didn't enjoy.

Or each time we instant messaged just because typing in l33t5p34k was fun--

back in the "old days" of 6-7 years ago when we had to download and install a messenger on the computer

Because FaceTime wasn't a thing.

Those are things I want to relive because back then, we didn't know I was sick.

We joked about how I was a "sickie" whose arthritis medication obliterated my immune system--

so much so I was the primary target of every illness within 100 miles of the Centre College campus.

We fought battles of the eating disorder and OCD and anxiety varieties more times than are countable,

but we had no idea of the battle I was really fighting--

A battle I probably started fighting, unknowingly, as a kid--

The very battle that is keeping me awake writing this non-poem poem tonight.

There's a reason ignorance, in all its lack-of-knowledge-glory, is bliss.

But maybe it's not the pain or insomnia causing me to turn these early hours into words on a page.

Maybe it's my need to let you know how much I truly believe we WILL have a future full of days not only as good--

but better and happier--

than even the best of the past.

Because God has brought us through so much in the less than three years since that happiest day--

And how appropriate, less than three years,

The universal emoticon of love in the pre-emoji world.

Less than three.

<3

And He blesses me every day in ways others, even you, can't notice.

Every day you wake up and go to work to provide for our family of 5 (the animals count),

I'm overcome with thankfulness that God has given me a man so devoted to ensuring our basic needs are always met--

and after that, whenever able, providing enough for something just pure fun.

Any time you help me with a task I formerly could do but am not currently able,

whether it's walking, reading, cooking, or remembering how to spell my name,

I'm reminded that many are not as fortunate as I to have someone who not only shows love in the usual "flowers, chocolates, promises to don't intend to keep" ways,

but who goes out of his way to do anything he possibly can,

just because he wants to see me smile.

Each time you sit by and don't point out when I'm doing something annoyingly obsessive--

Any time you let me have the last word in an argument even though we both know I'm wrong,

although this is the first time I've ever admitted that possibility--

The patience you show every single time I cry, no matter how insignificant the reason seems--

The joy radiating from you every time you play in the band at church, or practice praise music at home--oh, how that joy immediately fills my soul!

The uncanny ability you have to make me laugh, no matter how hard our battles--

These are only a few of the blessings God uses to reassure me, daily,

that our best times are yet to come.

So this year on Valentine's Day,

even though we aren't able to visit a restaurant,

or see a movie or go ice skating,

know that I love you more today than ever before,

and that I'll be able to say the same tomorrow--

and the next day--

and the next.

Because my daily-growing love is one thing that has never wavered,

never changed,

even during the valleys we've faced,

and the uncertainty of many things still ahead.

Because one thing IS certain--

it never will.

Copyright Becca Doss 2014

I wrote this poem in July and posted it on my personal blog I’ve had for several years, but I just realized I hadn’t posted it here yet so I wanted to share. In case you readers haven’t realized, I love poetry. I love reading it, writing it, and finding new ways to string together words and sentences and turn them into a poem.

________________

Under my skin

There are lots of things that get under my skin.
When people curse the name of God or the country that they’re living in–
When children are hurt and have no choice but to walk around on eggshells and pins–
When justice is served from an outside party instead of within–

Politicians whose rabble seems to have no end.
And talk show doctors who sell out to fit in.
And professionals testing extensively and expensively despite not knowing where to begin.
And celebrities who jump on the bandwagon for an award–for us, defeat, for them, a win.

Assertions that we’ll never live fully again.
Ignoring the reality of our minds’ din.
The clinging and clanging of pencils and pens,
And paper and lamplights and city trash bins.
All enough to make our minds whirl and heads spin.

And they wonder why such commonplace things get under my skin.

Perhaps it’s worthwhile to consider again–
All of these things get under my skin
Because that’s where it is–under my skin.
Sure, outwardly I may look fine but you see the outside, not in.
The war rages deep, under my skin.
The aching and pain and confusion and rain all live together under my skin.
Because that’s where it is–under my skin.

It attacks and desires for me to give in,
But I refuse to obey what’s under my skin.
Yes, there are days I only stay in.
And yes, there are times I feel I can’t win.
But my God is stronger–the Beginning and End.
So how can I let this monster under my skin
Make me doubt enough to give up or give in?

Since my God is the Beginning and the End,
I have hope that He’ll carry me through, yet again.
He’s proved it immeasurably through thick and thin–
How naive would I be to think He won’t still win?

My struggles may seem insurmountable and I don’t know when,
But I WILL get back to my full life again.
I will one day skate for hours on end.
I will walk my dog several times ’round the bend.
I will drive my car around town, with windows down, and enjoy the wind.
I don’t have a mind that is satisfied with ‘mend’–
I operate on principles of ‘healing completely’–with God on my team, worldly answers I’ll transcend.
Because I do not accept this diminished functionality as my story’s end.

God’s writing my book as I travel the bends,
And the twists and the turns and the bumps and amends.
My story’s not over–there’s still more to go–more than I can comprehend.

But rest assured, I am a fighter, my friends.
And fight on I will, till God writes ‘The End’
________________

And we all will win this war, guys. I firmly believe that.

God bless,

<3
Becca