anger stones

So, a few weeks ago, I ended up in the emergency room, with pain in my stomach, so bad, I felt like I was dying. I knew I wasn't dying, but I felt like I was. The ER doc asked me, "describe your pain. What does it feel like?" . . . through my tears, "it feels like my stomach is full of poison!" . . . He looks at me weird, "Well, I'm not sure what that feels like? I don't know what it feels like to have a stomach full of poison." . . . Me, "I don't either, but I would imagine THIS IS WHAT IT FEELS LIKE! It's not cramps. It's not a stomach ache. It's not food. It's not a stabbing pain. From my belly-button up, all up under my ribs, FEELS LIKE IT'S FULL OF POISON!"

Let me say that, I have had stomach issues for YEARS, like, at least 10. My stomach almost ALWAYS hurts. It's something that is just always there, & I have learned to live with it. I have had soooo many blood tests, pee tests, ultrasounds, x-rays, all of it. No doctor could ever find the cause of it.

So that day in the ER, I got another ultrasound. But this time the tech was focusing somewhere that never got looked at before. He was looking at my upper right side. A very small area, under my ribs.

Gallstones. Cool. Aren't those the ones you pee out & everything is fine? No. I had no idea.

So, back in the room with the ER doc, "Gallstones. ALOT of them." Me, "Like, how many?" Doc, "ALOT! Way too many to count."

"Ok. So how do we fix this? How do we get them out?" . . . Doc, "Surgery. We cut out your gallbladder." . . . Me, "Ummmm, and what if we DON'T cut it out?" . . . Doc, "Well, then you will continue to have this pain, which is caused by a stone getting stuck in the bile duct. The pain will get worse. Every time you eat, you will have excruciating pain. Eventually, it will get so bad, that your gallbladder will become infected, and you will get really sick & might die."

Not cool. Not the answer I wanted.

I had already cut waaaay back on food. I rarely eat, and only a week before, had said to my honey, "I think I know why I hardly ever eat! Because every time I do, I feel like SHIT afterwards. My stomach hurts so bad.

"Louise Hay mentioned that gallstones could be tied to bitterness, hard thoughts, condemning or pride. Over the years, these unexpressed emotions could solidify into gallstones. And if it causes a lot of pain and inflammation, it also represents the seething anger. 
Let go of the anger. Soften our hearts- forgive. In forgiving the other person, we also forgive ourselves. We forgive ourselves for making the mistake of trusting and loving the person. I
t’s time to learn from the mistake and betrayal and move on in life. Look around- there is still a lot of goodness in the world. They are many others who are kind and love us- let’s not make a bad experience ruin life for us ." -Link between gallbladder & gallstones & our unresolved emotional issues/Digestive Wellness, Mind-Body Connection. full article HERE

So, I've read & I've researched & I've decided to do my best to avoid surgery & heal this on my own. I've made some big changes in the nutrition department. I believe I can heal this on my own, with food, exercise & a whole fucking lot of letting go.

That's where I'm at now. I'm physically exhausted every day. My body aches. My stomach hurts. I feel 100 years old. I'm doing the nutrition part, but the emotional part is still waiting. It's funny (not really), but I FEEL like I've already dealt with this, the anger, SO MANY TIMES. I thought I was over it. I thought it was healed. 

I believe that physical dis-ease is directly tied to emotional/spiritual wounds/work. I have said, quite a few times, "I'm surprised my body wasn't full of cancer by the time I left." (Speaking of my 17 year relationship with an abusive man). I held SOOOO FUCKING MUCH inside, for sooo long. I held on TIGHT to hurt, to pain, to bitterness, to hate, to anger, to resentment . . . SO MUCH, for SO LONG.

Good news. Bad news. I am NOT full of cancer, but I am full of gallstones, a dis-eased gallbladder, a dis-eased liver, a dis-eased digestive system. And why wouldn't I be? Why would I have a healthy stomach, when I have housed such poisonous emotions in this area for now 23 years? 

7 years ago, a few months before I finally left my marriage, I was sick. I was skinny & weak. I wasn't eating. I had migraines. I had stomach pains. I almost fainted, alot. I was going to the doctor & they ran all sorts of tests. Blood tests, pee tests, ultrasounds . . . so many tests. After months of tests & trying to figure out what was going on, my doc says, "Good news is, all your tests are clear. Bad news is, we still don't know what is going on with you." Exhausted, I said, "Well then, can you at least prescribe me some antidepressants? because I am really fucking depressed." My doc says, "You are? Why?"  . . . after a few sentences of me describing what my life was like, he looks at me & says, "This would have been REALLY helpful to know a few months ago!" Naive little me says, "Why? This has NOTHING to do with what is going on with my body!" Smarter than most western medicine docs then says, "This has EVERYTHING to do with what is going on in your body. You are not dealing with it, so your body is screaming at you, and will continue to do so, until you DEAL WITH IT."  . . . ouch. truth hurts sometimes.

It's funny, how naive I can be sometimes. When I first read Louise Hay's reasoning for gallstones, "bitterness, hard thoughts, condemnation & pride", I almost laughed out loud. I was like, "Oh, I am so over it! I have worked through my anger! That lesson is over." . . . funny, not.

So, here I am, in this cocoon. Again. It's fucking PAINFUL. So physically painful. At the beginning, someone asked me, "what are you angry about?" . .  . "NOTHING! I'm not angry. I'm FINE! I've dealt with my anger. I'm OVER IT!" . . . . continues the unbearable physical pain. So, a few times, I've allowed the question to come into my body, "Erica, WHAT are you angry about?" . . . ohmygod . . . I just get a GLIMPSE of a really fucking long list & then I shut it down. Not ready. Not willing yet.

Yes, this cocoon. Wrapped up fucking tight. Arms bound. Legs bound. Mouth covered. Dark. Painful. Rotting away from the inside. Wanting SO BADLY to break free. Wanting to kick & scream & bite & yell & run the fuck away. BOUND.

It's waiting for me. My list of ANGER. It's patiently waiting for me to sit still & get real. It's tying my wrists & squeezing my legs & holding it's ugly fucking dirty hand over my mouth. It's keeping my weeping, weak body in the dark, until I give the nod, & say, "ok, I'm ready. Let's do this."

you see, it's not going to be easy. I know this. and honestly, I might just be a little fucking terrified of the darkness that is swirling around in there, poisoning me. 

I want to "have already healed it". I ache to "be over it." I YEARN to "have already forgiven." But the truth is, I haven't. 

yesterday, I tried to explain with words, to my wonderful, patient beloved, what I am experiencing right now . . . theses are the words that came out, "I just want to fucking rip my clothes off, scratch my skin off & go running into the mountains, screaming!"

cocoon. I know it. I recognize it. I have been here so many times before. I know it won't last forever. I know there is brightness on the outside. I know I will be different when I emerge. 

I also know I won't emerge until I dare to sit with myself in the darkness of the decomposing & speak honestly, with myself, about that anger, until I speak, OUTLOUD, and name every fucking one, even if it takes all day, & when I am done, I am so exhausted that I can't do anything but lay there & my eyes are so swollen from crying that I can't see, and my voice is so hoarse from sobbing & screaming that I can't speak another word. 

This is how the cocoon will crack. 

DEEEEEEEEP BREATHS. DEEEEEEEP BREATHS.

unconditional love.

patience.

thank you, for witnessing my journey.

much love,

EK

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