Chronic pain is such a drag...

I'm not gonna lie folks, the future of this blog was a bit touch and go for a while there. After getting so much positive feedback on my first post, I wasn't quite sure what direction to go next or how to keep the ball rolling.

On that note, thank you to everyone who reached out to me for my first post. I received an overwhelming response that literally brought tears to my eyes. It was nerve wracking to put myself out there, but the pay off has been more than worth it. I've even had a few ladies get in touch with me to thank me for cluing them in on the condition who have been able to relate and are now having their own symptoms investigated. If you're reading this, girls, I'm rooting for you. 

August was a long, busy and generally shit month for me and the last thing I wanted to do was sit down and write anything. Mercury was in retrograde and my insides were flared up the wazoo. I mean, that's hardly out of the ordinary but I had so many plans I had to flake out on at the last minute just because I didn't want to leave my bed, or felt like I physically couldn't. 

One of my biggest pet peeves has always been unreliable, flaky people. I now fall under that category. There's no rhyme nor reason to when my endo will flare up so more often than I'd like to admit, I find myself in situations where I decide to bail on plans a minute before walking out the door because the best thing for me to do is lie in bed in the fetal position and refrain from moving. 

You don't have to tell me twice, I know what a bad friend that makes me. I'm always weighing out the options in my head of whether or not it's worth me going on a night out and struggling to fully enjoy myself, or staying in and chowing down on painkillers and finding some degree of comfort with my feet up watching Netflix.

Sometimes I have to be selfish. I'm well aware I'm becoming a fully developed recluse, but I can't help that the latter option appeals more to me.

Following on from that, as the end of August began approaching, I started to grow increasingly apprehensive about a trip to London I had planned with my best friend Lauren. I mentally prepare way in advance when I have plans to go travelling; having to think logically about the extent of things I'll be able to do and how long for before I feel like I need a rest. FYI: chronic fatigue is another side effect of endo.

I feel like the human equivalent of a mogwai sometimes, or the poor dogs nobody wants to adopt from the shelter because they've gotten old. If you gift wrapped me, the box I came in would include a floor length piece of paper with care instructions to follow. 

Anyway, I digress. The purpose of travelling down to merry 'ole London was to attend Drag World, a convention for, you guessed it, all things centered around drag. It's a place where members of the queer community can come together, let their freak flag fly and be themselves without fear of judgement. This was an event that I'd be pissing myself with excitement to attend, but the closer it got the more I dreaded it.

Lauren and I had previously been approached by a mutual friend of ours to work at the convention. If you're a fan of RuPaul's Drag Race and you follow me on social media, you'll probably know that I'm lucky enough to call myself a friend of Katya Zamolodchikova - the illustrious queen from Drag Race Season 7 and Season 2 of Drag Race All Stars. 

I've worked with her before at various drag events and I know just how quickly it can turn to pandemonium. Naturally my mind was filled with the worry of whether or not I'd be able to remain on my feet for an entire weekend, maintaining a high standard of customer service in a busy environment without ending up doubled over in pain. 

At the end of the day, I'm representing someone in the public eye who has an incredibly large fan base, at an event which is the first of it's kind in Europe - the pressure was already on. Not to mention, the last time I saw Katya was following a particularly bad flare up back in April, which was so bad I had to make an emergency trip to the hospital. I had been crippled with pain to the point where I couldn't even stay out at a club to watch her perform. 

I didn't want our reunion in London to be ruined under similar circumstances, neither did I want to let her down as her 'employee' for the weekend - I know how lucky I am to be asked to work for her, but there was a real possibility that this condition outside of my control could hinder my abilities to help out.

Thankfully, the weekend came and went without a hitch. The convention was chaotic at times but thanks to the magic of ibuprofen and co-codamol, I made it through with minimal endo pain and I had a blast. The biggest problem I had was trying to cool off in London's 26 degree weather and figuring out what to wear that would keep me looking cute while comfortable yet still managing to hide my bloated endo belly. 

I'm itching to get away again and explore new cities. I have to remind myself not to let my physical symptoms be a setback and stop me from stepping outside of my comfort zone sometimes. It would've been so easy for me to stay in the hotel all weekend out of fear and the anxiety that stems from my condition.

So, I'll end this by reiterating some solid advice I once learned from a dear friend of mine; "don't let the toxic mixture of fear and laziness fuck with your goals, ambition and productivity."

Kiera xo

Introduction

Hiya! I’m Kiera. I’m 25 years old and I hail from Belfast, Northern Ireland. I currently live in the vibrant city of Glasgow, Scotland.

If we’re already acquainted, whether that be personally or via my various social media handles, you’ll probably know me for my love of makeup & drag culture, horror movies and anything that harkens me back to the early 90’s.

I’m an avid supporter of the LGBT community, feminism and the right to clog your Facebook feed full of dog related memes.

However, beneath this eccentric, cheerful exterior and the witty, pop culture-loving image I portray online – dark and dramatic plot twist coming up, guys – I happen to suffer from an illness that is eating me up from the inside.

Okay, I don’t mean that literally. Something isn’t actually physically chowing down on my internal organs.. although it does sometimes feel like that. The truth is, I have a debilitating, chronic condition called endometriosis. Maybe you’ve heard of it, maybe you haven’t.

Endometriosis is a condition which isn’t as widely known or well understood as it should be. It’s a disease which is so common that 1 in 10 women worldwide suffer from it. There’s no known cause and more importantly, no cure.

The real kicker being that not all women are aware they have it. In cases such as these, where it’s not diagnosed early enough or at all, women tend to experience difficulty falling pregnant, or infertility altogether.

It’s for this reason that I consider myself (somewhat) lucky that my body began to show symptoms which prompted me to seek help. I had already suffered ten years of agonising, heavy periods before an additional two years of ongoing excruciating pelvic pain then came during the remainder of my menstrual cycle. It wasn’t until then that I was admitted for a plethora of tests and examinations. Lastly came my diagnostic laparoscopy. I’ll save you a Google search – surgery is required to receive a diagnosis.

So, I guess this is why I’ve decided to start a blog. I suffer from a number of symptoms due to this shitty illness that hinder me from leading a so called “normal life”. I’ll try to skip the gory details – or, maybe I won’t. My primary goal is to raise awareness because I feel that’s something that’s really lacking, and perhaps being as open and gritty as possible is what’s needed to open people’s eyes.

I’ve always wanted to speak more openly about my condition and how I cope on a daily/weekly basis, not just in the hopes of it bringing comfort to other sufferers to show they’re not alone, but also to gain understanding from people and let them see how the most routine tasks can be challenging for me to tackle on my “bad” days.

Some days are harder than others and I can’t stress enough how much it takes a toll on me. Endo has effected and continues to effect my social life, personal relationships, jobs and probably most importantly, my mental health.

Over the past few years, I found one of my biggest struggles was having nobody to relate to. I constantly battled with the frustration of nobody understanding exactly what I was going through, and more importantly, not taking me seriously. I guess that’s part and parcel of invisible illnesses.

I now have an incredible support network that surrounds me full of people who remind me just how strong I am and encourage me on the days when I need it most. I know not everyone is lucky enough to have that, so if I can be a figure of support for someone reading this, then mission accomplished.

This introduction post isn’t a cry for help, nor is it intended to be a sob story. I’d like to use this blog as a platform to let my fellow endo-suffers know that there’s a light at the end of this long, shit stained tunnel (yep, that was an IBS joke). Not to mention, I find screaming into the abyss of the Internet to be quite cathartic sometimes.

Don’t let this put you off though, I’m not all doom and gloom even if I might appear so; I mean I wear a lot of black. I’ll be featuring (somewhat) frequent posts on general goings-on in my life and maybe the odd review now and again of beauty products I like. I mean, that’s what people look for in a blog these days, right?

Failing all of the above, perhaps I’ll just say fuck it and turn this into an online shrine devoted to pictures of dogs. Stay tuned, I guess!

Kiera xo