Why Do I Talk About my "Stuff"?

A few months ago a friend told me someone we knew was venting that I share too much about myself in my blog and on social media. She said (I'm paraphrasing) something like "We all go through stuff. There's no need to share it." At first I was irritated until I realized this person has zero impact on my life. And it's true: we are all going through things. But since then I've been thinking a lot about why I am so candid about things in my life (in particular my struggle with Crohn's Disease). 

I was 19 when I got sick. It was so embarrassing. No college girl wants to tell people they're dealing with bloody diarrhea and nausea and horrible cramps. That's the thing about a chronic illness: it's easy to feel like you don't have anyone to lean on.

I had my colon removed 5 weeks before I started law school (the delightful adventure chronicled in this blog). I began law school having lost 30 pounds in less than a month, with steroids puffing up my face and an illeostomy to go to the bathroom. I was mortified about the illeostomy and told no one. Sometimes when my classmates would vent about how hard law school was I would think simmer down. I'm doing this AND feel terrible AND am pooping in a bag. But of course I never said that.

I didn't know how sick I really was (taken just a few weeks before
I had my colon removed). Man the puffy steroid face.

I had surgery over Christmas break my first year of law school, and I was very sick when I returned. I was having major issues with dehydration and going to the bathroom constantly. I was barely hanging onto my sanity but was still present and doing the work in law school. I had a third surgery three months later (over spring break) to reverse my illeostomy. I was completely in denial that I was living with a chronic, lifelong illness. I thought this would be my last surgery and everything would be fine.

When I started getting sick again later that summer I was devastated. Again I had nobody to talk to and was so embarrassed. During that period I was among the sickest I've ever been. My body really struggled to absorb food. I'd be starving and then full after only a few bites. I remember one evening my now ex and I had plans with friends. I had a fever of 102 and was shivering, but I went anyway and tried to be fine. I remember sitting at the bar in a jacket in the summer in Texas. A friend came up and gave me a side hug and recoiled. He said, "Samantha you're burning up." I know now that I had an infection and needed rest and antibiotics. But then I felt like I had to power through and pretend nothing was wrong.

My sister was visiting when I lived in Texas, and I ended up in the ER. The law firm where I was working thought I was faking when I called out (because I had company). My sister drove me to work and I walked across the parking lot, bent at the waist because I was in so much pain. I didn't generally look sick, and I definitely didn't talk about it. It was a surprise for them.

When I moved to Michigan nearly two decades ago I was in the longest period of remission I've enjoyed with this disease. I met my now husband and was feeling great. I didn't talk about being sick because I didn't feel sick. It was glorious.

After I started this blog to focus on running and cities, I also started being candid about my illness and other challenges like my struggles with infertility. I discovered something that was soul fulfilling: not only am I not alone, but what I have been through resonates with other people.

I've walked a friend through being an advocate for her daughter who was struggling with GI issues. I had a phone conversation with a 17-year-old friend of a friend's daughter who was having her colon removed and wanted to talk to someone who's been there. I've had advice sought from other parents at school and people on social media I haven't talked to in ages. I've had people say, "I hear you have Crohn's. I have a question."

You know what? I may not have the answers. But I'll sure as hell talk about my stuff and try. It's been a surprising joy of being open about my illness.

I've had a similar experience with infertility. I now know so many women who have struggled to have a family, and I remember feeling completely and absolutely alone as I went through it. By sharing my experience I've gained a community and the grace of the other women I know who have had the same struggle.

The beauty of social media and blogs is that you are always free to ignore me. I'm always amazed and humbled when someone approaches me and asks me about something they or a loved one are going through. I absolutely don't have the answers, but I can listen. And most importantly I can let them know they aren't alone. I've been there. Others have been there. And we've got you. Know that you've always got a safe place to talk about your "stuff" with me.