7 Years of Blogging.
When I began this blog on January 2nd 2010, I was a newlywed. We weren't even at the two month stage of marriage.
When I think of that person, I smile because I was free of heartache, true pain and my motivation was to be able to stay at my wedding weight. Life was really good and I had not yet experienced many bumps or hiccups along the road.
In 2013, my worries were having to relocate from NY to PA. I did not like unemployment. I missed my friends. I missed our little home. That is what my worries were. At the time, they were valid worries because like I said, I had not yet experienced much bumps or hiccups along the road.
2014 whipped me right into shape. It was the year I learned of my mom's diagnosis and it was the first time in my life that I knew of true confusion, denial, anger, pain and so many other emotions that I had never felt before. I was a walking zombie and my thoughts were consumed with all the things that I could not control.
It led to many sleepless nights and for the first time in my life I was truly not OK. Knowing that my mom was in pain and possibly dying and being able to do nothing but pray was too much to handle. I still had hope that she would beat it. That the treatment she was receiving was going to do what it needed to do. That God was going to perform a miracle on my mom.
2015 took my mother. And well all the emotions before that were just an appetizer. I still did not know how it felt to have your heart squeezed so tight that you felt you would pass out until she passed away. The hyperventilating tears that would come at any time. I wonder how I got out of bed sometimes. How I was able to keep it together. But with a strong support system it's amazing all that you can do. Knowing that you're not in pain by yourself helps you keep it together.
The first day of 2016, Sean and I sat in our kitchen and wrote down goals that we would like to accomplish. Life had truly been put on a backburner with both of our mothers fighting stage 4 cancers. Our lives revolved around road trips every weekend to either see my mom or his mom. It was a lot.
For the first time in two years I felt like things could not get any worst. That the worst was behind us. That I could have hope that life would get better. It was also that day that we decided that 2016 was the year we would try for children.
We were finally stable. We were now in PA for a few years. We had jobs, a new home and our emotions more in check. Everything pointed that 2016 would be the year.
17 days later that changed. And when I think of that time, tears well in my eyes because how, how did this happen? Life wasn't done with me yet. The pain I had felt before this was all emotional. I had never felt real physical pain in my life. I had not known what it was like to almost die. What it was like to spend 12 days in a hospital, one week of it in intensive care.
And when I was told that my uterus needed to go for me to live, I had never felt so betrayed in my life. Like, what the fuck! What had I done to deserve all this shit?! Sorry for the language.
It was all too much. For the first time I really knew what that meant. But that wasn't the worst part when I think of it now, it was the recovery that rocked me. It was going home and knowing that a significant part of me had been taken. It was going home and not being able to do for myself that allowed the thoughts to control me. The thoughts that caused me to have a full fledged panic attack that I was forced to call 911 because I thought I was having a stroke. Only to be told that I wasn't having a stroke but a panic attack.
A panic attack? I don't do panic attacks. But I did. Several more after that. I soon had no choice but to pay attention to when they would begin that way I could control my breathing and take my thoughts to a positive place. One verse that I would frequently say out loud was, God has not given me the spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind.
Once I was able to walk again and my physical therapist discharged me I begin to see flickers of light again. I still was in bad shape but I could walk now. It took a few more months before my doctor felt that I was good enough to return to work at 4 hour days. Soon I was back at the gym and although I could not do what I use to do, I was back and I could do for myself.
But once my body began to heal my thoughts were now free to roam to other places. Dark places. I was no longer worried about learning how to walk again. About not being able to climb the stairs or shower on my own. And with that came blame. And how I blamed myself. I was unkind to myself. And it was strange because sometimes I was so proud of myself. How far I had come and then a second later I was disgusted with myself.
I had never been an emotional eater but in 2016 I was. Bad thought? Have a cupcake. Bad thought? Order Chinese food. Not the best as I'm now going to have to work on losing this weight that I put on and now control a bad habit that I want no part of. I now have to figure out how to control the bad thoughts without allowing food to fix it.
Yesterday, I did not tell myself that 2017 could not get any worst. In fact, I told myself to be prepared for it to possibly get worst. I told myself that you have no choice but to go with all the bumps and to ride any and all waves with as much strength as you can muster. I can't tell you that 2017 is going to be my year. Not that I'm being negative and don't want to claim all the best for myself. I do. But now I know that you could do everything right and sometimes be handed the short stick. And it's OK. You are not to blame. It's something called life. You'll have to deal with pain and suffering one day, you have no choice. But it's how you come out of the pain that your character begins to build. That you realize that you are stronger than you've ever given yourself credit for.
I'm not the person I was when I started this blog 7 years ago. What I thought would break me then, only made me stronger.
I don't know where 2017 will go. I have no expectations. But I have a feeling that no matter what I'll be OK.
When I think of that person, I smile because I was free of heartache, true pain and my motivation was to be able to stay at my wedding weight. Life was really good and I had not yet experienced many bumps or hiccups along the road.
In 2013, my worries were having to relocate from NY to PA. I did not like unemployment. I missed my friends. I missed our little home. That is what my worries were. At the time, they were valid worries because like I said, I had not yet experienced much bumps or hiccups along the road.
2014 whipped me right into shape. It was the year I learned of my mom's diagnosis and it was the first time in my life that I knew of true confusion, denial, anger, pain and so many other emotions that I had never felt before. I was a walking zombie and my thoughts were consumed with all the things that I could not control.
It led to many sleepless nights and for the first time in my life I was truly not OK. Knowing that my mom was in pain and possibly dying and being able to do nothing but pray was too much to handle. I still had hope that she would beat it. That the treatment she was receiving was going to do what it needed to do. That God was going to perform a miracle on my mom.
2015 took my mother. And well all the emotions before that were just an appetizer. I still did not know how it felt to have your heart squeezed so tight that you felt you would pass out until she passed away. The hyperventilating tears that would come at any time. I wonder how I got out of bed sometimes. How I was able to keep it together. But with a strong support system it's amazing all that you can do. Knowing that you're not in pain by yourself helps you keep it together.
The first day of 2016, Sean and I sat in our kitchen and wrote down goals that we would like to accomplish. Life had truly been put on a backburner with both of our mothers fighting stage 4 cancers. Our lives revolved around road trips every weekend to either see my mom or his mom. It was a lot.
For the first time in two years I felt like things could not get any worst. That the worst was behind us. That I could have hope that life would get better. It was also that day that we decided that 2016 was the year we would try for children.
We were finally stable. We were now in PA for a few years. We had jobs, a new home and our emotions more in check. Everything pointed that 2016 would be the year.
17 days later that changed. And when I think of that time, tears well in my eyes because how, how did this happen? Life wasn't done with me yet. The pain I had felt before this was all emotional. I had never felt real physical pain in my life. I had not known what it was like to almost die. What it was like to spend 12 days in a hospital, one week of it in intensive care.
And when I was told that my uterus needed to go for me to live, I had never felt so betrayed in my life. Like, what the fuck! What had I done to deserve all this shit?! Sorry for the language.
It was all too much. For the first time I really knew what that meant. But that wasn't the worst part when I think of it now, it was the recovery that rocked me. It was going home and knowing that a significant part of me had been taken. It was going home and not being able to do for myself that allowed the thoughts to control me. The thoughts that caused me to have a full fledged panic attack that I was forced to call 911 because I thought I was having a stroke. Only to be told that I wasn't having a stroke but a panic attack.
A panic attack? I don't do panic attacks. But I did. Several more after that. I soon had no choice but to pay attention to when they would begin that way I could control my breathing and take my thoughts to a positive place. One verse that I would frequently say out loud was, God has not given me the spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind.
Once I was able to walk again and my physical therapist discharged me I begin to see flickers of light again. I still was in bad shape but I could walk now. It took a few more months before my doctor felt that I was good enough to return to work at 4 hour days. Soon I was back at the gym and although I could not do what I use to do, I was back and I could do for myself.
But once my body began to heal my thoughts were now free to roam to other places. Dark places. I was no longer worried about learning how to walk again. About not being able to climb the stairs or shower on my own. And with that came blame. And how I blamed myself. I was unkind to myself. And it was strange because sometimes I was so proud of myself. How far I had come and then a second later I was disgusted with myself.
I had never been an emotional eater but in 2016 I was. Bad thought? Have a cupcake. Bad thought? Order Chinese food. Not the best as I'm now going to have to work on losing this weight that I put on and now control a bad habit that I want no part of. I now have to figure out how to control the bad thoughts without allowing food to fix it.
Yesterday, I did not tell myself that 2017 could not get any worst. In fact, I told myself to be prepared for it to possibly get worst. I told myself that you have no choice but to go with all the bumps and to ride any and all waves with as much strength as you can muster. I can't tell you that 2017 is going to be my year. Not that I'm being negative and don't want to claim all the best for myself. I do. But now I know that you could do everything right and sometimes be handed the short stick. And it's OK. You are not to blame. It's something called life. You'll have to deal with pain and suffering one day, you have no choice. But it's how you come out of the pain that your character begins to build. That you realize that you are stronger than you've ever given yourself credit for.
I'm not the person I was when I started this blog 7 years ago. What I thought would break me then, only made me stronger.
I don't know where 2017 will go. I have no expectations. But I have a feeling that no matter what I'll be OK.
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