Every day I am reminded that I shouldn’t be here, and every day I am reminded that I should not have progressed as far as I have in my recovery. When someone asks how I’m doing my reply is always, “I’m just glad to be here!” And I really mean it! So why do I still find myself sobbing on the bathroom floor at 1:00 am halfway through a box of tissues? I think that’s what happens when I focus so much on what I’ve gained and learned through this journey that I don’t allow myself to grieve some of the things I’ve lost. I feel guilty if I complain about anything because I know so many people are watching how I recover and, like me, wondering where my life will go from here. I try so hard to set a good example, but in the meantime I haven’t allowed myself to experience the full weight of what happened to me and suddenly a little snowball of sadness starts, and then it quickly turns into an avalanche until I feel like I’m one tear away from the nut house.
So today I’m allowing myself to be sad and angry at what this has taken from me. So many other people have it so much worse than I would ever be able to comprehend, but I can’t let that stop me from allowing myself to experience my own emotions or the next time I find myself on the bathroom floor, it may not be a box of tissues I’ve worked my way through; it could be a bottle of wine or a bottle of pills. In the spirit of healing, I am going to write down what I’m angry and sad about in hopes that letting it out into the universe will aid in me being able to put it to bed for good; or at least let it take a nice, long nap!
- I miss my hair
- My entire family is on our annual beach trip except for me and Lee
- I can’t climb on and off the boat so no more family lake days
- My son’s birthday party is coming up with a special surprise for him that I won’t be able to participate in, but I’ll enjoy watching.
- I can’t walk far enough to be active at all
- I’m weak from months of immobility and have lost all my muscle tone
- No stamina or endurance
- I’m in constant, constant pain and nothing helps
- I lost my income and can’t contribute financially anymore
- I don’t know if it’s the TBI or the effects of heavy sedation for so long, but my short term memory is trash. I forget things many, many times a day. I often can’t remember if I’ve taken my medicine or not and sometimes accidentally double up.
- I have severe anxiety now about any medical procedures
- I feel like I’m robbing my husband and kids by not being able to participate in the things we used to do together
- I have a lot of guilt that my husband and kids have to help me so much
- The guilt of me being home every day while my husband works two full time jobs
Let me be very clear: this is not a ‘poor me’ post. I am writing this in the spirit of transparency in hopes that it may help someone else not feel so alone. I have learned so much, and I choose to believe that I have gained more than I’ve lost. I’m leaving with a song that will be on repeat for me today because it gets me hype and lifts my spirits- I’M A MOTHERFUCKING WOMAN!