Hello Steemit Community.
I'm Sophie Manimen. I'm female, and over 21 (well over 21). Therefore, I'm crazy, old enough to know better, not too old so I can still have fun, but also old enough to not care (generally speaking). I am a persona: the person inside another; the one who no one really knows. Even my name is known only to one other.
This is my story. It is not for the weak. This story will contain strong language, abuse, sexual content, and strong emotions from one end of the spectrum to the other. You have been warned. You, the reader, may be bored sometimes, laugh at times, cry, hate me or grow to love me. Other than names and places changing to protect me (and others at times), what I share here is the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, as I see it – no holds barred – as long as it doesn't divulge the identity of my hostess.
You will not find many pictures here, if any. As we continue this journey, you will understand why.
Note: I tend to ramble. I have so much to tell and everything is so... convoluted. Therefore, I often find cohesion difficult. I will skip around: one minute I will be in the present and the next in a flashback. The next moment I will take you into what seems to be an entirely different story. Feel free to ask me questions. I will answer and tie things together as best I can.
I will always put the words “Sophia's Saga” in the title so you can find me, if you so choose. This particular writing may be more toward the boring side, but be patient. I need to become comfortable with my 'coming out' (for lack of a better term).
I will likely post late at night; not necessarily the best of times for profit, but Steemit is more than just profit, and profit is not the only reason I am here. You may not hear from me on a regular basis. I'm not always at liberty, so please bear with me.
_ SOPHIA'S SAGA BEGINS... _
We hurt today. I don't know if it is the rain, the high amount mold in the air (of which we are very allergic), or just because we're so tired. I just know we're so tired of hurting, and so tired of being tired. We try so hard to not take the Norco which we have been prescribed for the pain; we don't want to build a tolerance and don't want to start taking anything stronger if we can help it. As it is, we have to fight through the sleepiness to function; as well as the sleepiness from the Baclofen for the spasms. If we're not careful to space out the medications, we cannot stay awake.
I know why so many Lyme patients commit suicide. Though most days the pain is not excruciating, the constant drum of the pain wears on the soul. Yes, we have Lyme Disease, “The Great Imitator” as well as one of the co-infections, Bordella. Lyme Disease is so called because it imitates so many non-serious diseases it is overlooked by many in the medical community. Therefore, so many suffer not only the pain, but the ridicule of family, doctors and friends, as we did. I think it was an instrumental part of why we are single - again.
When we received the diagnosis in 2010, our recent ex-husband at the time, Marcel, actually congratulated us! For years, he discounted the consistent fatigue as laziness and the consistent pain as being a hypochondriac. (By the way, he did clarify the congratulations was not because we were actually ill, but that we were not a Hypochondriac.)
Shortly after the Lyme Disease diagnosis we began to have issues with numbness in the hands. We've had neck and lower back pain for years. Hell, I just thought we needed to exercise more to keep the core strong, but our neck and shoulders kept hurting.
We had never been a lazy person, nor one to complain about little aches and pains. Before Marcel and we got together (a story in and of itself), we were raising two children alone, and working a full-time job, without any help from family or anyone (the only complaint was fatigue). In fact, I was always thought of as the outcast in the family, a “goose.”
About 1997, we were taking martial arts and working out, both 2 to 3 times weekly. We were fit, we felt healthy, we looked our best.
By the time 2007 rolled around, we were a blue belt in martial arts, but Marcel and we had moved, and were no longer taking classes. However, we were running about 3 miles in a local park. This doesn't seem like much, but the path could change about 200 feet in altitude in less than 200 feet of path. I loved running up what I called the “Stairway to Hell” and flying down what I called the “Stairway to Heaven!” At my pinnacle, I could run this 3 miles in just over 30 minutes.
By the time 2007 rolled around, I had lost my second son – to cancer. I was working hard to get on with my life. I deeply loved Marcel. His only daughter, my only daughter and I lived on an acre of land in a beautiful country setting, we had dogs, we had our own business. What more could I want?
As it turned out, almost everything.
We didn't know we were ill at the time. We didn't know how ill we were at the time. We also didn't realize we were wearing the proverbial 'rose-colored-glasses' or how incredibly deep those glasses were colored.