Let's get vulnerable for a moment. Warning, this post is lon..

Let's get vulnerable for a moment. Warning, this post is long and rambling and discusses depression, invisible illness and physical symptoms related to the bowels. My stride has been broken a bit due to the resurgence of my Inflammatory Bowel Disease. About ten years ago, after many visits to my doctor with symptoms of intestinal blëëding, cramps, stabbing pains, bloating, diarrhoea, chronic fatigue and dehydration, and being ignored and told that I just had a stomach bug, IBS or I just wasn't eating a healthy diet, I had become so convinced that my illness was all in my head, I gas-lit myselfninto thinking that I was just making it all up. I was working at a cafe that was paying for my TAFE course so I could become a fully qualified chef but due to my frequent sick days I ended up getting fired and spiralling into a deep depression, after a few months of moping around at my parents house I finally found a great job working in the kitchen of a hotel, it was a long drive from home but it was worth it. I bottled up my depression, took all kinds of over the counter medications to deal with my pain (thankfully nothing that would trigger a cycle of addiction) and I got to work, picked up my studies once more and started enjoying life and work again. This was until the hotel came under new management, my head chef left and I had to deal with the chaos of a constantly shifting environment and staff roster. I was given more responsibilities and occasionally would run the kitchen myself. I appreciated the trust but my health was failing and in no time at all I began falling back into the pattern of calling in sick at short notice, doubling over in pain when I was alone in the kitchen and just lying to myself saying it wasn't that bad. After about a year of this, I ended up getting called in for a one on one meeting with the owner of the hotel who told me it wasn't working out. He was a charismatic man who convinced me that it was a mutual decision and not simply him firing me. By this point I had moved out of my parents house and into a shared apartment where I met one of the loves of my life, who helped me to come to terms with my illness and pushed me to continue my studying to become qualified. Without a job, I ended up needing my older sister's help paying rent and I will never forget that kindness and hope to repay her some day. So I kept going to TAFE and one day during a practical demonstration as we were standing around our teacher, another student noticed all of the colour drop from my face and signalled the student behind me to catch me, right in time too as I passed out momentarily. I figured I was weak from skipping breakfast or something. Which was weird as I rarely ate breakfast, but since I was told there was nothing wrong by my doctor, it was the only logical explanation. I decided to book a last minute appointment with a doctor who took one look at me and suggested I go straight to the hospital. Once at the hospital I was fast tracked to the front of the line and my obs were taken. My resting heartrate was 167bpm and the nurse couldn't believe I was still standing. She got me on a bed and on fluids immediately requested the doctor to see me quickly. Within five minutes of hearing my symptoms and checking my medical history he had diagnosed me with Ulcerative Colitis (Similar to Crohn's Disease but limited to the Colon), admitted me to the gastro ward and ordered some scopes to confirm his diagonsis, which it certainly did. The left side of my Colon was realy bad but by some stroke of luck I didn't need any of it to be removed. After a full week in the hospital, so many blóòd tests my that arm was black and blue and a tonne of fluids and anti-inflammatories, I was stable enough to return home. I couldn't stay renting so I moved back in with my parents. It was hard though due to the steroids I was taking and the intense mood swings they caused. I was off work for a full year until I finally dragged myself up (with the help of my family who never gave up on me no matter how difficult I had become) and found a job at a beautiful log cabin cooking German/Austrian foods and loving life again. I have held this job for eight years now and been in remission from the Colitis for about the same, however recently with the fires, covid and other stressful life events it seems that the shit just always catches up with us. These past few weeks my symptoms have returned, including blēēding, pain, bloating etc, and a scope confirmed that my colitis is back. The main difference this time being that now I have a much stronger support network, my mental issues are medicated, my job security is rock solid (my bosses, are an elderly couple in their late 70's that treat me not as an employee, but as family) and I know what to expect. I finally have a doctor that listens to me and I trust but also I have a second doctor who I can go to for a second opinion, or if my primary doctor is unable to see me. I am so much stronger than I was back then and I am so happy to have found such a warm and supportive community on here. I don't know where I was going with this but I am happy to be comfortable enough to share my story. I hope you are all doing well and I hope to be back to making content again soon! I love you all! Stay safe, happy and healthy! 🥰🥰🥰