Over the past year, I've experienced a life-altering lack of energy, motivation and good health. This was concerning--I was never much of a complainer Before, but throughout the past year, I felt as though I needed to outwardly express the pain I was in. It seemed everything constantly hurt: my head, my stomach, my ribs, my limbs. There were days where it was hard to get up because I had the feeling of a rock taking up residence on my entire body. My legs would feel like lead, or, other days, feel like jelly and I'd simply fall. As a very active child but one that lost their activeness as they grew to be a teenager, many people passed my leg aches off as that.
However, very early January last year changed everything for me, medically. My entire wellbeing seemed to go downhill. I had to cancel plans, leave half-eaten meals and waste so much due to my stomach aches, or as I put it, a full feeling after only a few bites. As well as the claims of me losing my activity as a child, I endured the brush-offs of "it's all in your head, of course you're hungry." But I wasn't. Eventually, this became a concern. Previously, all I'd done was eat. My weight had gone up to an uncomfortable place and I had a massive discontent with my body image, even more so than usual. Many times, I'd been called a "bottomless pit" when it came to food. So throughout those early months of 2016 when my problems began, even for me, feeling full so quickly was strange.
Fast-forward a few agonizing months of being told it was all in my head, of being called lazy or being told I was losing interest in my education on the days I physically couldn't move from my pains to go to college. After many, many blood tests (that were coming back clear after a few fainting episodes) one finally displayed something. I was diagnosed with a Vitamin D deficiency, the thing causing my leg pains and constant tiredness and lack of energy. Thankfully, (actually, very unfortunately, for her) , my cousin also had the same condition and could relate and sort-of vouch for me with my seemingly still unconvinced mum. It felt nice to be able to confide in someone just how bad I was feeling, how much I cried at night and early mornings, when I was exhausted and couldn't get a peaceful sleep because of the pain, when my sleeping pattern was falling apart. It felt nice to receive understanding off her, instead of pity off my mum, who didn't know what to do, I don't think, apart from do everything the doctors were recommending. As a pale-skinned person naturally, it was no surprise, really. I'd never really been the biggest fan of foods containing that, either. But still, I hadn't realised just how much a problem it would cause me until everything slowly clicked into place.
Except one thing. The diagnosis didn't have anything to do with the hell going on in my stomach and entire abdomen area. I was--and still am--constantly in pain, sometimes not even able to stand straight. Still, I made an effort and tried my best to carry on, get to that June point where I could finish my college course and have a summer trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with me, and how I could fix it myself when no doctor seemed to have an answer.
Now on vitamins for my deficiency, I was still in considerable pain, but it was manageable. During the summer months, I endured many--and horrific, sometimes--tests and scans and so many medical appointments to get to the bottom of my mysterious eating issue, my complaints and symptoms. I got very stressed about it, very nervous. I was enduring so much and keeping myself awake at night worrying because eventually, my doctor decided he would stop looking into the physical side.
Early September, I came home from a holiday where I'd been on a vitamin withdrawal and had suffered a few faint feelings and uncertainty within my wellbeing. Also, as a person who was quite partial to a few coffees a day, being in a hot country without coffee had quite the effect on my body. So, I came home and found a letter that had disappointment flooding me. A referral to an eating disorder clinic was written clearly. Angry, because I was very convinced that was not the issue, I slipped it between some other letters for other medical appointments, but not without angrily muttering about it to my mum. I think deep down she, and my other family members, thought the same. But I knew it wasn't that. I'd read up on those and I didn't feel that sort of way. My mum let me cancel the appointment, something I was admittedly surprised at because of how convinced I was that she thought that was the problem. Instead, I attended another appointment because finally, something, something had shown up.
A couple of weeks ago, I visited a specialist who was able to give me a diagnosis, after almost a year of my pain and "drastic" weight loss. I'm now on another journey to fully treat that, but that doesn't mean I'm constantly paranoid of what I'm eating, how I'm feeling. I go to work, in pain, and try to walk it off as I can in my workplace. I don't go out to eat with my family as much as I used to and I still don't eat as much as I probably should, but there's some progression.
Some days, I wake up and feel faint. On these days, I get crippled with pains, over and over, and for 90% of the day, I feel disgustingly full despite not eating anything. It's very disconcerting to feel like this, as someone who has lived their life with a very good appetite.
On these days, I feel like I want to not exist, because if that happened, I wouldn't have to feel like I'm not in control of my own body and feelings. But I read a book last year: Six of Crows, by Leigh Bardugo. I was immediately attracted to Inej's character, The Wraith. Her story enticed me, as I know it's enticed many. But apart from just being a character I was flawlessly taken captive by, I found inspiration in Inej.
I found such, such inspiration in the chapter where Inej suffers a wound to her side just before the crew board the boat to get to the Ice Court. Even as she endures such pain, she keeps on going, keeps on dragging herself up each crate, still forces each breath, in and out. Inej keeps on trying, even when she feels like hell, like literally dying. She knows how easily it would be to close her eyes and let darkness close in, but she doesn't. The Wraith keeps going, not just because she's indentured and is needed for this mission, but she keeps going for herself.
Throughout the book, and it's predecessor, Crooked Kingdom, Inej overcomes every little and big thing thrown at her. When she was captured in Van Eck's clutches and didn't eat a great deal, she felt faint. But she didn't succumb to that, or let it hinder her. She still found a way to crawl through a grate and tried to find freedom. She still stayed so strong. It's those times that Inej shines from these pages and I remember how much willpower and the need to be stronger than those feelings drives her. It's those times I take inspiration from to go on. Each day at work, when my legs feel so aching I want to collapse, I remember Inej's strength and determination and push myself to keep going. It's because of this wonderful, overcoming character that I can get a bus to work each morning, in pain, and chant to myself that I control my body, not let it control me. Inej's strength after her capture gets me up in the morning--she barely rested properly before she was out doing her thing again. It's her that makes me want to be a more determined person to beat both my medical setbacks. Whether I can or can't, I still try.
I try because of people like Inej Ghafa, who may be a fictional character, but stands for real people who do overcome those things daily. She represents people who have suffered terrible things but still wake up and be a better person for themselves each day. Inej always thought of the crew whenever she had to pep-talk herself to go on, thought of her family, but in the end, she was still doing it for herself, to prove to herself that she was strong.
Inej has her ways to go on and I always try to search for my tether, each day at work, when I look at the clock and realise my shift ended ten minutes ago but I want to stay on. I know what the voice in my head is when I think I'm about to fail, or I do. I know what drives me when I can't have the mentality to bring up Inej's strength. In work, I push myself on, surge forward on waves of determination to not be weak or fail. There, I need to do my best, prove I can work despite my pain. Even when I'm feeling less-than-strong, I still brace myself before running upstairs to get another item in the warehouse because I feel that I always have to be ever-quick; I still summon every inch of strength before picking up a heavier item because there's a constant reminder that I can be better inside my head. I think reading Inej's story helped me to realise that: she always found ways to go on, and so I want to take inspiration from her strength.
When I thanked Leigh Bardugo for writing such a duology and creating these characters that I adore, I didn't just mean my thanks for letting me enjoy Ketterdam and the Dregs. I was thanking her for the inspiration that fills me whenever I think about Inej Ghafa. I was thanking her for making me realise that I can work past this, mentally, and still try. I was thanking her for letting her characters stand up and change people's lives, like mine.
Something in that story touched me deeply and has made me realise that everyone has a driving force; it's just a case of catching that voice and what it's saying at the time.
