Projectme

I didn’t think I was dying, I knew I was. After seeing countless specialists, giving vials of blood, changing my diet, everything kept coming up “normal.” Well nothing was normal anymore, as I could barely find the energy to shower, and even then I had to sit down to do it. The last straw was when I got sent to a Psychiatrist and they based my symptoms on having ADHD, and put me Adderall. I spent the next month feeling like I was on crack-cocaine, but inside the body of a dead person. I knew this wasn’t the answer either.  I had heard of Breast Implant Illness, but there wasn’t much scientific data out there, so I didn’t think it was a real thing. Part of me didn’t want it to be real, as that would mean I had to have major surgery to remove my implants. That sounded scary to me. Just as how all things work in my life, God made it undeniable that these saline sacks had to come out. My breasts kept getting bigger and bigger, they took on a life of their own; my body was holding onto weight and inflammation that