This Lent was probably the most difficult yet beautiful one I’ve had in a long time.
Just like the start of the annual 54-day Rosary last year, my Lent began day early. One of the most physically debilitating flare-ups in recent years. And that seemed to be the theme this Lent — physical weakness and exhaustion. I spent most of Lent in bed. At one point I felt so weak that I felt like I couldn’t even sit up in bed. I did have my moment of panic because this is one symptom you do *not* want to experience if you have Addison’s as it could signal an adrenal crisis. I kept reminding myself to trust in God; that if it was serious and I needed help, He would make sure I got it. Thankfully, I was okay and it was part of the flare-up. Still, it was wild.
Most days I slept or felt like I couldn’t get enough sleep. I usually take a nap in between breakfast and lunch because of noisy neighbors and/or something else that keeps me up. Since I have to get up at 6:30 a.m. to take my first medication of the day, falling asleep after 11 p.m. (or being woken up in the wee hours of the day) means I don’t get good quality sleep. Still, sometimes even 2 naps per day weren’t enough. Lots of brain fog and general blah-ness accompanied it. As I keep telling my mom, I’m no good blind nor brain foggy.
The flare-ups continue, every 2-3 weeks, almost like clockwork. I have a theory as to what might be triggering it but I’ve yet to figure out how to test this theory out. It’s been like this for the past 5 months, which is very unusual for me. I would normally get one every couple of months — and even went over a year without one when I was newly diagnosed with Addison’s — but something triggered these non-stop flare-ups and there’s nothing I can do about it. As the doctor said, there’s really not much we can do but treat it when it flares up… and do the bare minimum since my Addison’s and other medication allergies/intolerances won’t allow for a more aggressive treatment.
As you can probably guess, I missed all the Lenten festivities. No Ash Wednesday for me. No Palm Sunday. No Holy Week. No Easter Mass. No confession at all. No Mass at all. Well, no in-person Mass. I don’t miss a daily or Sunday Mass live-streamed from the Knock Shrine. When they don’t have their Masses at a time when I’m awake (which is rare), I’ll look elsewhere but I didn’t miss a single one during Lent. I think that helped keep me somewhat on track during Lent.
Most of the things I was supposed to do (or give up) during Lent…. I failed at. Miserably. Music was the hardest because it’s my first love… and I had a hard time with silence in recent months. I would log into Instagram (because I didn’t give up social media for Lent; it’s not a penance for me) and the reels would start playing… and I sometimes wouldn’t realize I was bopping along to the music until later. D’oh! But my willpower is weak and sometimes I would say, “well, this technically doesn’t have any lyrics in it… I was giving up music with lyrics before I added more to it….” Yeaaaahhh… I’m not proud of those moments but I’m glad they happened because it only helped emphasize how much I need Christ and what a weakling I am.
I *did* do well with giving up fiction though. It was so hard, especially giving in up as part of my bedtime routine to help me fall asleep, but I only slipped once when I listened to a small clip of an audiobook I didn’t know was coming out… and I didn’t go further when I realized what I was doing.
I was supposed to be reading the biography of St. Gemma Galgani and go over it with my spiritual director but, honestly, I didn’t have the mental capacity for it. I only read the daily readings of the Holy Rule of St. Benedict and started the consecration to St. Joseph in late March but I don’t think I read much beyond that. If I did, I don’t remember. Like I said, I was so exhausted that my brain fog was quite pronounced. It was hard for me, because I’d always prided myself in being a bookworm and “having a brain” for things and I couldn’t even do those things.
I felt so disconnected from the liturgical season. Feeling disconnected from God is no longer new for me. I’ve been struggling with being in and out of the spiritual desert since shortly after making my Final Act of Oblation. At this point I’ve accepted that I might be seeing a St. (Mother) Teresa of Calcutta type of situation for myself, in which I feel nothing but continue down the path I’ve chosen as a Benedictine oblate and as whatever God is calling me to as a vocation. I just go through the motions at this point — daily Rosary, daily Mass, all the Divine Office (except Matins), and some sort of spiritual reading, even if it’s a couple of pages per day. But I feel… nothing. I’m spiritually numb… and this is where I find the beauty in it.
I feel nothing… but I no longer *need* to feel anything. As a melancholic who feels things deeply, this is so strange to me… but this is where God’s grace kicks it. I don’t feel consolations, or anything, really but I continue to do what I promised out of love for God. Again, I don’t feel that love but I’m expressing it the best way I can, which is to stay faithful to my oblation. I absolutely cannot speak from experience, but I’m guessing it might be something akin to what happens in marriages. You don’t always *feel* the emotions and warm fuzzies towards your spouse but you’re still faithful to them out of love for them.
If anything, this Lent really drove home how much I need Christ… and how committed I am to giving up my life for him. By that I don’t mean the obvious, though that’s included. By “giving up” my life I mean giving up my independence and selfishness. It means being at the service of the Church in any way Christ needs. It means struggling with the day-to-day on my own (in many ways) instead of having a physical spouse or partner help me carry that cross. It means that I’m willing and ready to say, “my life is no longer mine but Christ’s. May God do with me what He wills” and mean it on a deeper level than I had before. The wedding vows come to mind and, truly, I understand them in a way I hadn’t before… and without a physical groom.
I just realized how long this post it getting so I’ll say two more things. First, I was ecstatic to have returned to our home parish for the first time in almost a year and a half on Easter Monday. We went for confession and would’ve stayed for Mass except we had to return home because a UPS package required a signature. But, it was the first time in several months (really, since October 27, 2021) that I felt well enough to actually go! I was in mid flare-up recovery as well which was miraculous. I hope to soon be able to return for an actual Mass.
Also, despite failing at being more silent during Lent, I didn’t realize how far I’d come along in terms of embracing silence. I’ve found myself seeking silence more often, even after Lent has ended. Example after watching Mass this past Sunday, there was a beautiful silence. It wasn’t entirely silent — you could hear the lively and cheerful twittering of the birds — but everything else was still. With the morning light streaming into the living room through the windows, I felt this wave of peace engulfing me. There was no hum of the dehumidifier, which had been running non-stop since winter. There were no noisy neighbors. There was nothing but birdsong and sunlight. It didn’t last too long but it lasted long enough to remind me of how far I’ve come since before Lent began.
So, yes, Lent was difficult (and I didn’t even scratch the surface in other ways it was difficult) but it was also so beautiful in ways that mattered.
Anyway, that’s it for now. I would keep writing but nobody wants to read a book anymore. Haha! I gave up social media for the next month (to see if it helps with my brain fog) so I’ll see if I can write more often. It’ll all depend on my physical health as well.
I hope you’re all having a lovely start to the Easter season!
As always, thanks for reading and God bless!
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