These past couple of weeks I have immersed myself in an outrageous number of fictional novels, TV shows, and movies.
Why?
I’m so glad you asked!
Let’s go back a couple decades (I can’t believe I just said that…).
From my pre-teen to late-teen years I was an avid reader. I would grab a book, any book, and just sit and read until I reached the last page. Or, until my parents made me get up and do productive things instead.
I carried a large purse or backpack around all the time. Not because I was girly by any means, but because my books and my journals were ALWAYS with me.
Alongside my love of reading, I enjoyed putting my pen to paper as often as I could. Anytime someone needed a piece of paper or a pen, they knew to go to me. I was never without.
So let’s move up to the current year. I am the same. Unchanged. I read A LOT. I write A LOT.
Reading, for me, has always been enjoyable, entertaining, enlightening, and inspiring.
Writing, however, has always been a release. It’s motivating, self-encouraging, and a way to get all the things out of my head. All the things that race back and forth, ramming into the walls of my peace, chipping away at the structure within.
Not all thoughts are bad. Too many thoughts at once, however, can be overwhelming. And I am the textbook example of a “woman’s brain.” You know, the one they describe as an internet browser with too many tabs open?
Allow me to see that description level and raise it…
My mind is like a whole computer. Browsers are open, windows, tabs, etc. Apps are playing in the foreground and background simultaneously. The security app is constantly reminding me to check the kids and things around the house. The entertainment app is blaring with at least 3 genres of music at once, and anytime the mood changes EVERY channel changes with it! Browsers open for work and school, multiple windows and tabs for each one.
The antivirus hasn’t been run or upgraded in YEARS, and is flashing in the bottom, right corner every 3 hours or so. Its many attempts have been in vain so far. “Just click the ‘x’ in the corner to close the window till another day.”
Kind of like ignoring the check engine light on your car…
The calendar/appointment app self-destructs every few weeks or so… the poor thing.
Now, I could go on and on about how my overly anxious mind works (or doesn’t work), and likely make you dizzy with it all. I’ve chased one rabbit trail writing this post already, but I’m not editing it out. Haha!
We’ve covered reading and writing.
TV shows and movies:
Sometimes I turn them on to have background noise. That noise can often cancel out some of the scattered things swirling around in my mind when I need to concentrate on work, school, or something else.
And sometimes, I find shows and movies that are based on books.
And y’all… based on books? Not just a novel or non-fiction work, but a series of books?!
Sign. Me. Up.
I recall many of those, “How many have you watched?” lists on Facebook, marking lists of movies or TV shows, and you put a little symbol next to the ones you have seen. I would FILL those lists with symbols, every time.
I don’t really have a favorite genre of reading or writing, honestly. I glean a lot of knowledge and inspiration from non-fiction works, self-help, influential works, and more. But lately, I have leaned toward the fiction world again, much like I did as a teenager.
I can get lost in the descriptions of fictional worlds. The landscapes described with words these authors are gifted with using, that bring a scene to life inside the mind. Dialogue that can take you down emotional twists and turns, from laughing to gasping, and even crying, because you “Feel” every bit of the conversation. Describing emotions. My gosh…
As a teenager, I dreamed of becoming a published author. I wanted to open a world on paper that I brought to life with my words. Characters, conversation, the ups and downs of the hero and heroine of the story.
I wrote in my journals and notebooks for years. Visions of a story, outlines of possible books, and even a couple of drafted chapters here and there. Those notebooks and journals have traveled with me throughout my life and all the places I have moved since leaving the home where I was raised. Some have been lost, taken, ripped apart, and otherwise damaged. Not by me, but it happened none the less.
So, the other day I was pulling notebooks off the shelf for my kiddos to have something to draw on while I worked. One such notebook containing written works of two decades ago, fell out, open, on the floor at my feet.
I bent down, picked it up, and before standing straight again I paused.
The page that was open on the notebook in my hands was a list of descriptions. I had been practicing some creative writing skills with a dear friend of mine, and we would text back and forth a description of what we were looking at.
This one, however, ended up being a journaling for myself, and I couldn’t look away from the lines as the memories sucked all the air out of my core for just a moment.
“The reflection of the trees along the shore did a slow dance in the smoky glass of the water’s surface. The river is calm today. Tiny ripples hide well the dangerous current that races underneath. She’s moving fast today. A stick being carried by the current is here one second and gone the next. Underneath she is raging, but her surface gives no hint with the calm, smooth surface unbroken by waves or wind. I feel her today. I understand. I will leave for college away from home soon and I’m uncertain. The current inside me is strong, but it’s more like a churning rather than a flow. I am torn. I wanted to be a nurse. I wanted to live here and travel around the world. Did I settle? I don’t know. I also love music. And this school is going to give me music. It’s a school built for social people. Preachers, singers, teachers, evangelists… I’m not social. I’m terrified. Can I put on a face calm as the river and take this next step in my life? I don’t know. But I do know that wherever I go, any time I come home, the river will be here to greet me.”
So…
I carried that notebook to my room, sat on my bed, and turned several pages. I read short stories, poems, songs, more descriptive writing, journaling, reflections. Whew! It hit me hard.
So, what did I do? Ha! I went straight to my Kindle app, found books and started reading, went to Audible and started listening to books being read. Found Movies and TV shows based on books and watched/listened to them.
And here I have been for over a week, doing the same thing.
Remembering the creative thoughts I used to kindle into at least a little flame. Feeling the emotions connected to memories, dreams, visions, ideas, and goals I had set for myself.
Only now did I decide to open my computer and put to words what has been going on inside me these past many days.
Do I still dream of being a published author? YES!
Do I still want to write poems, music, songs, stories, and eventually books? YES!
Is this dream a possibility? YES!
Can I calm my mind enough to focus and budget my time wisely to achieve my dreams? This is where I struggle, and the rabbit trail we all took together at the beginning of this post happened. I want to. I really, REALLY do. But that computer mind of mine is on the verge of fritzing out.
Hopefully I will find the thing that sets me straight, very soon. I have a lot coming up in the very near future that will require a bit more of me than I have gathered in one compartment right now.
Until then, you will continue to get the random ramblings of a writer who loves to write. My blog posts aren’t consistently posted weekly or even monthly many times, but we will get there!
PS: if you have any book recommendations… well, you know what to do. 😊
And here we arrive at the final chapter of the great health scare of 2024.
Well, the first one anyway…
We are going to highlight Friday and Sunday in this post, as they were the days of fun and adventure… and the rest were filler days. LOL
The ambulance arrived at the hospital I would be admitted into. The doors opened and a burst of WARM air hit me.
Y’all. You know me! It was February… and it was warm! I was not happy at all. I looked up at the paramedic and mentioned the temperature. It wasn’t fair! It’s warm outside and I’m stuck to a gurney going into a hospital for God knows how long!
“Yeah. It’s supposed to be nice for a few days! Then, cold again.” She said as they wheeled my gurney from the truck to the doors of the ER.
I was too miserable to be upset for long, though. I had been bleeding for weeks, I was barely alert, and I had several feet of gauze shoved up where things don’t need to be shoved to slow the flow of blood.
To shorten the ER part of this tale, I will say that the Dr’s came in, OBGYN department knew I was coming and they knew I was “packed” and they were furious. The first thing they did after drawing yet more blood from my person was get that hot mess out of my body.
And when they did…
Red Niagara! For minutes! And then, Red Lake Michigan (or whatever large body of water) …
Everyone in there was like, “Oh my… whoa. Ok… more blood for you!”
It was then explained to me that my bleeding was internal… and it needed a place to go. So, if the “exit” from my body was closed off, it would start finding other places inside to retreat to. Not good, apparently.
Thankfully, Mom made it there to sit with me during my torture and torment shortly after I arrived in the ambulance. She got all the kiddos ready and off to their respective school destinations before following me up to the hospital.
By now, it’s mid-morning on Friday. I’m exhausted. Depleted. Have nothing left to give, at all. In more ways than one! They got me all set up and sent up to surgery floor for my stay while they decided exactly what was going to be done about my “unique situation” as they called it so many times.
Finally in my room on the 4th floor, I get to meet my nurses for the first time. A time of enormous discomfort for myself, and lots of sympathy for them from me as well.
I was soaked, not functional, unable to even sit up on my own at this point. I tried… gosh I tried! They had to clean me up as soon as I arrived, change my bed, my clothes, put an adult diaper thingy on me because the hemorrhaging was NOT letting up at all, and try to do it ALL while I’m laying in this bed!
Y’all. These nurses got skills!
After the magic they performed getting me and my bed changed out while I was still in it, they were able to reach out to my OBGYN to see if they were going to take out the baby growing system that day. I hadn’t eaten or drank anything in 24 hours. Mama was living off whatever was going into my body via IV tubes.
While we waited for word from the Docs, I got set up with more blood, iron infusions, and some other concoction via IV bags to give me some sort of nutrients.
I also got to meet lots of nurses, techs, lab personnel, some student doctors, and other people who apparently couldn’t wait to see the “unique situation” that was in room 409.
Fast forward to that afternoon. The doctor came in and explained how he determined best to handle my situation.
“Between a rock and a hard place” was used to describe me multiple times by all the people I encountered.
My Dr referred to me as “Interesting”, “unique”, “complicated”, and other things as well.
So, let’s review my situation:
I have blood clots in my lungs. I am bleeding. A lot! The bleeding needs to stop. But the concern is the clots… which is as bad (and could be worse). Both needs treated/fixed. But, given that one is total opposite of the other… only one can be treated/fixed at a time.
It was determined that I would be having an ablation procedure to try to slow/stop the bleeding. I would have to be taken off my blood thinners for 2 days prior to the surgery, if possible, but if the bleeding got worse 1 day would do if absolutely necessary.
Every decision maker in my medical case determined that a hysterectomy would make my already difficult situation worse and wanted to do the least alteration possible to my body, get me back on the blood thinners, and on the road to recovery ASAP.
With the plan in place, it was determined that I could finally EAT!
Y’all… I ate whatever they could bring me! Sandwiches, chips, yogurts, crackers, all of it! I munched on those wonderful ice chips that hospitals have for hours in complete bliss!
That evening, a dear friend of my mom and I came to see me and bring a cute flower with a balloon on it to brighten my room. We chatted, laughed, and enjoyed each other’s company. I remained reclined safely in my bed as any time I would even try to sit up without the bed lifting me my heartrate would jump into the 120’s. Everyone saw it. I was hooked up to all these monitors so they could see anytime my heartrate jumped at the nurse’s desk.
So, that prefaced my next part of the story…
While we were chatting, one of my WONDERFUL nurses came into the room to see if I could get up to go to the bathroom. A: I felt like I needed to and told them so, and B: they needed to see if I could stand on my own two feet.
I could not…
I got up, made it to the bathroom, and mind you I had been doing this at home for two weeks already, not realizing how BAD it was for me to do so…
I make it to the bathroom. I’m dizzy. But man, I had to PEE! So, I start trying to “do my thing” and I hear a phone ring in my room.
Yeah… that was the nurses desk calling my charge nurse to see if I was ALIVE at this point, because (unbeknownst to me) my heart rate was 155 and my BP had bottomed out waaaaaay below readings of anyone who is conscious.
I opened the bathroom door, took one look at my nurse and said, “Yeah… this wasn’t a good idea. I don’t feel well.”
My mother and our dear friend were in the room, eyes fixated on the monitors. My mother’s face was probably as white as mine at this point, obviously not for the same reason, and they were both immobile as the nurse guided me back to my bed.
I collapsed there, dizzy, nauseous, clammy, sweaty, and barely alert at this point.
It took a few minutes for my brain and my body to communicate to each other that I was back in bed and my heart could settle down. But once they did things got a little better by the minute.
More blood. More iron. More blood taken from me to see my counts.
Days of poking, testing, poking, testing, more poking again…
The ablation was done on Sunday morning. I was out for a bit, procedure completed. Pain. Lots of pain. Anxiety and fear that the procedure wouldn’t work. Paranoia. Depression. I missed my kids… a lot!
Thankfully, I had some yarn and my crochet hook with me while I was enjoying my stay at hotel Memorial Hospital. My bestie came to sit and visit the day before I was discharged. She brought her yarn and hook as well, and we got to sit and crochet, sip coffee, and chat about all the happy things in life. It was an uplifting moment during a time when the walls were closing in!
The day I was discharged a dear friend came to visit and bring me coffee. She got to be my ride home, and boy was I GLAD to escape back to my home and my kiddos! That ride home was another uplifting moment in a dark time! We laughed together, caught up with each other on life, and she got to be a witness to another small miracle in my life that will be for another post, another day. I will say this, God’s timing is most definitely impeccable!
Fast forward to today:
The ablation did work. It took months for the effects of the blood clots and then the heavy bleeding to finally fall away, and I do still have some every now and then. But I am doing so much better today than I was 5 months ago!
The support I have received through these months has been amazing! Thank you all for keeping me in thoughts and prayers, and lending assistance while we walked this crazy road!
Ok, so we are picking up where we left off with the previous post.
I was sent home and a few days later my period started. Or at least we THINK it was my period.
And I bled…
And bled…
And for more than a week I bled…
And FINALLY on day 10, I figured something might be wrong, as it was getting worse instead of better after 7 days. It was getting worse.
I wasn’t just “bleeding” per say, I was hemorrhaging…to death. I just didn’t realize it at the time.
I called my mom to let her know something was up and I probably needed to go back to the ER. First, I knew I was low on fluids and dehydrated, so I figured if I went to the ER they would give me some fluids and do some tests, maybe keep me another day or two for observation again, and send me home.
I was very, VERY wrong.
What made it worse was that Rayne was still up when I left. It was pretty early in terms of nighttime hours, but Asher was in bed when he was supposed to be. Rayne, in her typical fashion, was determined to beat us all in terms of staying up late.
Rayne stood next to the door and said, “Where are you going Mommy?”
I gave her a hug and said “I’m just going to the doctor baby. I’ll be back.”
She held my neck super tight and said, “So you’re coming back to us?”
Y’all… that hit me hard. I knew something was up in my body. I just didn’t know how bad it truly was.
But in my heart of hearts I knew I was going to come back home. So, I told her so.
“Yes spanky. I’m coming right back. I just need to see the doctor first, okay? Will you go to sleep for bubby tonight?”
And she let me go, bouncing around on the couch all excited about being home with her teenage brothers. “Okay mommy! I’ll go to sleep later!”
And I walked out the door……….
Mom and I had short conversations about stuff on the way to the ER: Kids, the possible outcomes of the ER visit, Rayne asking me if I was coming right back… my mommy heart was aching. But my body was exhausted!
We got there and the receptionist asked who was there and what for. I told them I had been there previously for the other issue and that something was very wrong because I’m bleeding, and it wasn’t stopping.
My heart rate was through the roof. I couldn’t see straight. I couldn’t breathe, but I was on blood thinners so the lung issue was better… however the breathing trouble combined with the heart rate… (it was 144 merely after standing up from my bed and taking a few steps) they knew something was not right.
God bless those nurses! They were the same ones who saw me 13 days prior, as was the doctor!
We kept it pretty light-hearted for the most part, throughout the visit. Jokes were made about “Next time you wanna see us this bad, lets do lunch or something!” and “I’d prefer to see you at Wal-Mart instead of here!” And we all had some good giggles throughout.
There was talk about lung issues continuing even with the blood thinners, due to damage, long term effects of Covid, etc., UNTIL… the blood results came back.
The poor Dr came into the room and said, “Remember all those things I said about your lungs earlier?”
I held my breath… “Yeah?”
“So, forget all of that. You have lost a LOT of blood, and you are bleeding to death… slowly.”
Fan-Tastic…
So, they set me up with two transfusions right there in the ER while we waited for more instructions and direction as to what was about to happen with me.
I’m already a hot mess, hearing that I’m just slowly leaking life right out of myself, my child was worried about me not coming home that night and here I was, lying in a bed with liquid life starting to flow through me from another source… not knowing if I was going home anytime soon or not.
Doc comes back later and says I’m going to be transported to the hospital where my OBGYN performs surgeries, and I will be looking at a possible emergent hysterectomy!
The only issue (not a small one either) is that, in my county, there is only one ambulance that runs between 11pm and 7am. So… I have to lay in agony and frustration, and my own blood no less, until 7am to be transported.
THEN………. To make matters even MORE interesting. The doc comes in and says, “we are going to pack (your area) to prevent more hemorrhaging until you get to your destination.”
Yall…
You guys…
I will spare you all the horrid details of that portion of the night. But I will say that the morphine shot I got afterwords was a GODSEND!!
That shot, however, did not make it into my veins until about 20 minutes prior to my transport to the next destination. So… I was suffering for some time prior. Much time.
I tell my mom to go get some sleep, because the coming day is going to SUCK for everyone, and she goes home to rest in her recliner for a couple of hours until it was time for her to get all my kiddos ready for school.
I didn’t rest at all. I was struggling. Physically, mentally, emotionally… I was a hot mess!
What was happening to me? Why was this happening to me? Would I get better? I had no idea. And I had no idea when I would see my kiddos again. I even laid there wondering IF I would see them again!
Dark places, that’s where my mind went.
Finally, the hour of my transport came. Thankfully the medics moving me were people I knew from my work as a police officer in the past. It was a good ride… the morphine helped my disposition for the journey, I’m sure. LOL
I got lots of well-wishes from the staff in the ER as I was being prepped to roll out. We were all becoming such good friends… haha!!
I went in trying to assure them I’m not a “frequent flyer” and I left with all the best wishes and prayers following me that I could ever imagine getting. Gosh, what a wonderful crew! All of them!!
The ride to the next hospital was fun, entertaining, and full of “catching up” with old friends. We had good times.
Getting to the next ER was good. The temperature outside was GLORIOUS at our arrival. I made jokes about getting this bad on the worst day possible. I just wanted to sit outside. Not lay in some gurney in an ER awaiting my fate…
But wait, I did. In a tiny room at the backside of a hospital far from my kids, my home, my family, my work, all of the things that I do daily.
And part 3 will end this blog saga of my health scare of 2024… the first one anyway…
It also flies when you have no idea what you are doing, or when you have no clue “what just happened here?!”
All the above have been the nutshell of my entire 2024 thus far.
It’s been such a whirlwind that I have no idea where to start!
I know, I know! “Start at the beginning!”
I’ll likely have to do this in parts, due to the amount of writing that will be going into this post. I have a lot of emotions, events, and more that I need to get off my chest, so to speak… so bear with me.
I am going to preface this by saying there will be talk of female issues, medical issues, hospital stays, and a little trauma.
You have now been warned…
Instead of the beginning I shall start at the end… of 2023 that is.
After Christmas, I saw my doctor to talk about options for helping with my HORRIBLE periods, because I was about to do my office rotation for work and my monthly was going to fall on the day I started said rotation. Not good.
After considering my options, I made an informed decision to begin a birth control to help with the situation. I was happy about my choice, and excited to see if this was finally the answer I had been searching for with my situation!
And thus, the journey began…
Things were going well. January came and my rotation began on January 16.
I started to feel sluggish, low on energy, and had minor difficulty with breathing now and then. Everyone else was catching the Flu, Covid, and adults were struggling with RSV as well in my area. I figured I was catching something and didn’t think about it.
Well, I never ran a fever, and I never had any of the other symptoms everyone else was having. It was fatigue and chest tightness for me.
After a week of it getting progressively worse, I made an appointment with my Dr to get it figured out.
After being told I have aggressive allergies, based on my symptoms I agreed, I was given prescription and sent on my way.
My symptoms continued to get worse. To the point that getting off my bed set my heart rate into the 130’s and my ability to breathe without pain was much, much less.
Two days later, I was in the ER. I was worse. In the defense of the doctors, I had only been on my meds for 36 hours and we all know that’s not long enough for basic medication.
The ER agreed with the first diagnosis, again understandable because of the symptoms, and I was given a steroid shot and some steroids to take along with the other medications. That was Wednesday night.
Thursday morning, January 25, I could not get up without my heart rate hitting the 140’s, and all I did was get off my bed to use the bathroom. Sitting up in a chair had my heartrate in the 120’s, and it would not go down! I was getting nervous at this point, and I called off work that morning.
By that afternoon, I knew something was off. Way off!
That evening, Levi drove me to the hospital again, 20 hours after I was there the first time.
The same ER staff was there who was there the night before, and we all shared a giggle at seeing each other again so soon.
After listening to my new and worsening symptoms, they decided to do some extra testing. This is when they found several blood clots in my lungs. But we are getting ahead of ourselves here. This is where the emotions and mental strain comes in…
Levi sat with me all night long. He never fell asleep. He sat up and played on his phone, played on my phone, we talked and had some good chuckles and whatnot.
Around 8am my dad picked him up from the hospital and I told him to just go home and sleep instead of going to school. The poor kid was a zombie! And he was so diligent keeping an eye on his mama.
My sister drops in to see me after her shift working midnights, and it was just after Levi walked out and she walked in that the ER Dr came in to tell me, “I have bad news…”
Now, everyone agrees that it was definitely divine intervention that took Levi home and my sister came to the room minutes before that Dr came in, because she was a ROCK! My sister is superwoman!
As the Dr began to explain what was found and what the treatment would be, I spaced out entirely. I went numb. Shock, maybe? I don’t know. But she saw it, and she kept her eyes on me while listening to this man speak. When I came back to reality JUST enough, she caught my eye and held her hand up toward me and said, “You’re going to be okay. You’re okay.” And at that point the Dr, who (bless his heart) was just rambling on stopped and looked at my stunned self and repeated her words. He reassured me that they were going to do some medications to help with the clots instantly, admit me for a day or two to keep me monitored, and then send me home with blood thinners.
It was at this point he started talking about what can cause blood clots. Anything from a blood disorder to some other stuff, and then he said “extra hormones” and both me and my sister straightened up, looking at each other with that “Ah Yes!” expression. The Dr noticed and asked, and I told him about the BC I am on. “Ok, get that out now! I’ll give you privacy and get your admit paperwork started.” He said as he jumped quickly from his chair. Honestly, I giggled because he acted like he was being chased from the room by the very mention of the Nuva Ring. Haha!
My mom arrived shortly after, once she saw all the kiddos to their school locations, and my sister said she would meet her in the waiting room to give her the update. I’m glad she did. Again, my sister was the hero of the morning when she told Mom what was going on and kept everyone nice and calm about the situation.
I was admitted to that hospital for observation, heart monitors and wires all attached to me. I went along with everything everyone was doing. Mom sat with me in the hospital room as I was being admitted, endured all the questions and answers, and watched as they gave me my first shots and vital checks after admit into the room.
Y’all… I slept better there than I had in WEEKS!!
Probably because I was sick and getting worse, and the medications stopped that from happening, plus it was VERY quiet where I was all day and all night, and at home it is always the absolute opposite of quiet.
When I was released back home I was on Blood Thinners and instructions to follow up with doctors after release.
I did see my primary after all of this and we talked about what had happened, what was expected, and what we would be doing during that time in between.
And then I went home feeling like I was going to be okay, but still a little worried about the upcoming menstrual cycle that would be happening not long after…
And four days later, it did.
And this is where I leave you for this first chapter. Don’t hate the messenger. I’m just typing when I get time! LOL!
We will continue with the next post, as it will be as long, or longer, than this one!!
HOW MANY BLOG POSTS HAVE I STARTED AND NOT FINISHED OVER THE PAST MANY MONTHS??
MORE THAN I CARE TO COUNT OR ADMIT…
THE STRUGGLE HAS BEEN REAL, Y’ALL.
I LOVE TO ENCOURAGE PEOPLE AND SHARE ALL THE POSITIVE THINGS AND THOUGHTS I USE TO HELP ME GET THROUGH HARD TIMES, BUT OVER THE PAST YEAR, AT LEAST, I HAVE FOUND IT HARD TO BE THAT PERSON.
I WOULD TYPE UP SOMETHING THAT SOUNDS AMAZING AND THEN I’D READ IT.
AND I WOULD THINK TO MYSELF, “YEAH, YOU’RE LYING TO OTHERS AND YOU’RE LYING TO YOURSELF!”
AND THEN I WOULD ABANDON MY POSITIVE THOUGHT BLOG ATTEMPT.
AND AGAIN…
AND AGAIN…
FOR WEEKS AND THEN MONTHS ON END.
IN ALL HONESTY, IT’S NOT BECAUSE I WAS “LYING” TO ANYONE… I WAS STRUGGLING. I STILL AM.
LIFE ISN’T EASY.
IT’S FULL OF RESPONSIBILITIES, RULES, COMMITMENTS (TO SELF OR OTHERS), WORK, SCHOOL, LIVING UP TO EXPECTATIONS ALL AROUND YOU, AND THEN SOME… AND REPEAT.
I REACHED THE POINT WHERE I WOULD WAKE UP ONLY COUNTING THE HOURS TO THE NEXT TIME I COULD GO BACK TO SLEEP.
IT DIDN’T MATTER IF I HAD TO WORK THAT DAY. I WAS ON AUTOPILOT.
GET UP. GET EVERYONE TO SCHOOL. SIGN IN TO WORK. CHECK THE CLOCK. WORK. CHECK THE CLOCK. WORK. LUNCH. WORK. CHECK THE CLOCK. PICK UP KIDS. WORK. CHECK…. 5PM!!
GO TO BED.
IS THAT MY DAILY NOW? SOMETIMES. BUT NOT ANYWHERE NEAR WHAT IT WAS EVEN A COUPLE WEEKS AGO, THANKFULLY.
BUT I KNOW THE FIGHT IS NOT OVER.
DEPRESSION IS REAL.
IT DOESN’T HAVE TO HAVE A REASON TO BE PRESENT.
IT JUST IS.
ANXIETY IS THE SAME.
AND WHEN YOU HAVE THEM BOTH AT THE SAME TIME… THE NIAGARA OF YUCK THAT FALLS ON TOP OF YOU IS MORE THAN WORDS CAN DESCRIBE.
AND THEN YOU HAVE PEOPLE WHO DON’T GET IT.
MAYBE BECAUSE THEY DON’T HAVE THE DISORDERS YOU CARRY EVERY DAY OF YOUR LIFE. MAYBE THEY DO AND THEY ARE IN DENIAL. MAYBE THEY JUST DON’T CARE. THERE ARE A LOT OF PEOPLE OUT THERE WITH A LOT OF STORIES.
BUT…
WHEN YOU ARE TRYING TO FIX A HOUSE THAT WAS BROKEN BEFORE YOU EVEN MOVED IN.
WHEN YOU ARE TRYING TO HOLD YOUR CAR TOGETHER THAT IS ALSO FALLING APART FROM NEGLECT FOR YEARS BECAUSE OF THOSE WHO JUST “LET IT GO” AND RESET THE BUTTONS SO THE ENGINE LIGHT SHUTS OFF FOR ANOTHER 30 DAYS.
WHEN YOUR EMPLOYMENT IS JUST ENOUGH TO RID YOU OF MOST OF YOUR STATE ASSISTANCE BUT NOT ENOUGH TO PAY ALL OF THE BILLS AND RESCUE YOU FROM THE DEBTS FROM THE PAST.
WHEN YOU HAVE KIDS WHO ARE STRUGGLING WITH THINGS THEY CANNOT DESCRIBE OR HANDLE BECAUSE THEY ARE KIDS.
WHEN YOU ARE DOING IT AS A SINGLE PARENT.
WHEN SUPPORT IS CONDITIONAL OR SPARSE.
WHEN YOUR SELF-DOUBT OVERCOMES YOUR MOTIVATION OR POSITIVE THOUGHTS.
WHEN YOU LOOK AT YOUR FITBIT AND SEE 2,000 STEPS FOR THE WHOLE DAY AND THINK “AT LEAST I MOVED…”
WE ARE CRAWLING, FOLKS.
I’M IN THE TRENCHES. IT’S MUDDY. WET. RAINING… NO POURING! COLD. MISERABLE. DARK. AND DARE I SAY IT, QUITE LONELY.
SO, THIS IS WHERE I WILL TRY TO SAY SOMETHING POSITIVE AND BELIEVE IT.
THE TRENCHES CAN MAKE US OR BREAK US!
THIS IS WHERE WE ARE.
AS I SAID, IT’S GROSS. YUCKY, COLD, NASTY, HEAVY, AND REALLY HARD TO MOVE THROUGH.
BUT IF WE CAN KEEP CRAWLING, MAYBE WE WILL MAKE TO THE SHALLOW END, WHERE WE CAN KINDA GET UP ON THE KNEES AND EVENTUALLY BACK TO OUR FEET.
THEN, MY FRIENDS, WE CAN WALK.
IT’S A HOT MESS OUT THERE, AND IT’S A HOT MESS IN HERE!
BUT HERE, HERE IS WHERE WE CAN STRIP AWAY THE THINGS THAT WE DO HAVE CONTROL OVER. HERE, WE CAN BUILD ON WHAT WE HAVE.
WHO CARES IF OUR BUILDING MATERIALS ARE SCRAP RIGHT NOW?!
AS A CHILD I REMEMBER MY GRANDPARENT’S NEIGHBORS WHO WORKED WITH WOOD, CREATING BEAUTIFUL THINGS FOR WOODCRAFTING SHOWS, SELLING PIECES ALL OVER THE REGION.
I REMEMBER BEING A KID AND GOING TO THE NEIGHBOR’S BURN PILE TO PULL SCRAPS OF WOOD THEY DIDN’T DEEM PERFECT, AND PAINTING IT, BUILDING FURNITURE OUT OF IT, MAKING DÉCOR, AND MORE!
IT WAS PIECES THROWN AWAY FOR THEIR IMPERFECTIONS, AND YET WE CHILDREN SAW NOTHING BUT OPPORTUNITY AND POTENTIAL ALL OVER THOSE PIECES OF WOOD.
WE WOULD TAKE THOSE PIECES TO GRANPA’S BASEMENT WHERE IT WAS COLD, DAMP, AND QUITE MUSTY, AND WE WOULD CREATE OUR MASTERPIECES!
I’VE HAD SCRAPS (AND LESS) OVER THE PAST SEVERAL YEARS NOW.
MY WORKSPACE IS MUSTY, RUSTY, AND FALLING APART.
BUT MY GOD I HAVE PIECES OF IMPERFECTION THAT CAN BE MOLDED INTO SOMETHING AMAZING FROM THE TRENCHES I HAVE CRAWLED THROUGH OVER THE YEARS.
NOW, ALL I NEED ARE THE EYES AND IMAGINATION OF MY YOUTH.
THE INSPIRED THOUGHTS OF “THIS WILL BE SO AMAZING!” FLOODING THROUGH MY HEAD AS I GATHER UP WHAT ENERGY I HAVE TO MAKE MY MASTERPIECES.
AND MAYBE JUST A TAD OF THE ENERGY I HAD BACK THEN TO KEEP GOING AND GOING TILL I ACCOMPLISHED WHAT I WAS AIMING FOR.
BUT FOR TODAY MY FRIENDS, I WILL CRAWL.
I WILL CRAWL BECAUSE THAT IS ALL I CAN DO SO FAR.
I WILL CRAWL BECAUSE I KNOW I CANNOT STOP MOVING, NO MATTER WHAT.
I WILL CRAWL BECAUSE I KNOW THAT I CAN DO THIS, GET THROUGH THIS, AND RISE ABOVE THIS ON MY FEET WHEN I AM FINALLY ABLE TO STAND.
BUT, I WILL NEVER STAND IF I STOP CRAWLING NOW.
MAYBE NOT THE MOST POSITIVE THOUGHT FOR THE EVENING, OR THE WEEK FOR THAT MATTER, BUT I SURE FEEL BETTER NOW AFTER SHARING AND BARING MY HEART TO YOU ALL.
