Breaking the Cycle

By Kate Breck

It's 2AM and I’m up for the third time since finally passing out at midnight. My spine, hips and arms are on fire and feel like they are in a vice. The muscle relaxer I took to put me to sleep can only do so much. I have severe chronic pain due to three autoimmune disorders. Mornings are the worst, as it is exceedingly difficult to move due to the pain, stiffness and never-ending fatigue, but I push through as I rush to get my daughter and myself ready for the day. As I struggle to get ready; every little movement brings more pain and by the time we are ready to go, I am wanting to get right back into bed. Some days I do not think I can continue moving, and I want to give up on life entirely. These are the moments when I remind myself that I am happier now, than I’ve ever been before. While the pain is near intolerable, it’s nothing compared to the pain I experienced throughout my childhood. 

Growing up as a little girl, I spent my entire adolescence wishing for one thing: a happy family. The kind that doesn’t hit, scream, or demean. The kind of family that doesn’t make you instantly cry as you step off the school bus because you know what hellish nightmare awaits you. I had given up hope at a young age that I would ever attain this dream. The endless cycle of abuse was bound to continue. I was certain I wasn’t going to make it to 18, anyway. I had no plan for adulthood, because why plan for something you will never obtain? 

I was wrong. Not only did I end up making it to 18, but I created an escape plan. I worked 60 hours a week cleaning vacation homes, mansions, camps, basically any building I could find, because that was all I was qualified to do. Every day while scrubbing toilets, I would dream about no longer having to clean 14 houses in 12 hours. I wanted a desk job more than anything.  

One day, one of my clients took a chance on me and gave me my first office job. This position led to another job, which eventually got me into healthcare, which I was always interested in. Those years I walked two miles to and from work, rarely had anything in the fridge, and even went some winters without heat, but at least I didn’t have to break my back and hands cleaning houses anymore. Even then I struggled to find myself and still didn’t value my life. 
 
When I was 21, I met a guy. He had the same sick sense of humor as I did, and – little did I know – he was battling his own inner demons. The first time we spoke, it felt like I had known him all my life. Still, I told myself there was no way I was going to be in a relationship. I wasn’t wired for that, and it wasn’t worth the pain. He had similar thoughts, and we decided it was best that way. 
 
Again, I was dead wrong. Our relationship was off before either of us knew what was happening. In the back of my mind, I asked: how I could allow myself to trust someone like this? What was I doing? I’m not supposed to get married or have children. I don’t know how to have a healthy relationship, let alone raise another human being. I’m not even remotely equipped…but why can’t I picture myself without him? Why did he have to ruin my plans of eternal solitude where I would never again have to rely on someone else or allow them to let me down? Against my own judgement, I decided to take a chance on him, and myself. A couple of rough years passed, and we got married. One year later, our daughter was born. 
 
Finally, for once, I was right. We struggled as young couples do, but we also were two kids with a lot of trauma that was never unpacked – a recipe for disaster. We worked opposite shifts for many years so that one of us would always be home with our daughter, which meant we were barely making it mentally and financially. Shortly after having our daughter, I was in severe pain constantly and extremely fatigued. Every joint, bone and muscle in my body hurt in a way I hadn’t ever known was possible. I honestly thought I was dying.  

Starting when I was 25, I saw many doctors and had so many tests done with no explanation. I was 29 when I was finally diagnosed with an autoimmune disease seronegative rheumatoid arthritis which ended up turning more into a psoriatic arthritis diagnosis. Most recently, lupus has been considered as well.

I believe these autoimmune diseases came to be partly because of genetics but also due to the traumas I faced at a young age. There has been research that childhood trauma can be a trigger for many people with autoimmune diseases, and as a parent this scares me. I can’t stop genetics from passing these diseases to my daughter. Every time she loses balance or has a pain in her legs or arms my heart drops and I instantly picture her going through the same struggles I face. The one thing I can do, is to make sure she doesn't face the same struggles I faced as a child. My husband and I give her the safe home and stable household that we never had. If my diseases have taught me anything; it’s how important love and stability are. 

Since my diagnosis, I’ve had about 15 orthopedic surgeries, hundreds of infusions, injections, staph infections, influenza several times that almost killed me, shingles, Covid-19, and countless other ailments due to being on immunosuppressants. As if that wasn’t enough, my husband has his own health struggles physically and mentally, and so does our daughter. 

Throughout all of this, we somehow worked our way up at both of our jobs and on my 34th birthday in 2020 we finally did something we had been actively trying to do and dreaming about the past decade. We purchased not only a house, but our DREAM house. It’s been over a year now since we moved in, yet we still find ourselves waking up almost every day and asking each other if this is a dream. How did two once lost souls get here? Perseverance? Stubbornness? Luck? I’m sure there are plenty of people that wouldn’t understand how something as basic as a house and a functional family could be considered “making it”, but for us it is everything. 

I’m still not sure how nearly 14 years have gone by since that day two dysfunctional souls met, but I constantly think about how much everything would be different if neither of us took a chance on life. I truly believe we could have easily ended up dead or in prison. Even worse, I’m afraid we even could have repeated our families’ mistakes and continued the cycle of abuse and neglect. The odds have always been against us, individually and together, but I’m grateful to be able to say that my wish came true. I broke the cycle and I now have that happy family I once wished for so long ago as a little girl, and I will never take them or my life for granted again. My declining health and the relentless progression of these diseases cannot keep me down, because my dreams have already come true. 

Kate Breck is a surgical coordinator and has worked in healthcare for nearly 15 years. She is a mom of one and enjoys running in 5Ks yearly, particularly "the Dempsey Challenge" founded by Patrick Dempsey in Lewiston, Maine. Read more from Kate on her blog.