It’s easy to sit down to write and come up with nothing. I have typed and deleted so many times, and yet still end up staring at a blank page. It’s at those times that I have to go back to basics and remember why I do this. This blog originally started as a way for me to share pieces of my recovery journey and talk about hard things that otherwise are difficult to share. This is also meant as a connection for others to relate to. I know there are parts of my journey that are dark and elicit heavy feelings of shame. When I speak those things out loud, that shame reduces, and the burden starts to lighten. Even more so when you’re in a safe environment to speak freely without judgment. That’s where the real power of healing comes. There are so many things that I can do for myself to aid my overall well-being. It’s my connection to others that levels me up. How do you get there though? It’s hard to connect to others, especially so when we have personal experience of being let down, getting hurt, being betrayed, and any other way that has deterred us from allowing others in. The thing is, once we are in the right environment with the right people, that changes. It takes a lot of trust and courage, in others and within ourselves. How can I even trust myself when I’ve always steered myself wrong? I no longer trust myself on my own. I trust myself with the help and guidance of those I trust who have my best interest at heart and can see things as I am, not as they perceive them. My Higher Power included. I don’t take action without using my tools and reasoning things out with another person. That helps keep me grounded and out of my stinking thinking. I have a history of anxiety, anger and fear driving my thoughts and behaviors. That’s something I have worked really hard to be aware of and change the way I react to the things in my life, my thoughts included. Of course, I still have days where I am compromised and struggle a little more with the negative thinking than I would on a normal day, but I bounce back way quicker than I did in the past. It helps to have so many people I can call to keep me healthy.
Look, I get it, it’s hard to even consider sharing openly with another person those dark thoughts that I feel ashamed of. I was lucky to find a program that specifically creates safe spaces for people to share the hard things. By sharing, I can heal. I have spoken out loud the very things I thought I would take to the grave with me, and I am a better version of myself because I have the courage to speak shameful things. Even when my voice shakes. Shame cannot survive spoken words when spoken in trust.
I imagine for many that the thought of trust makes your stomach turn or chills run up your spine. A small word, yet with big impact. Trust has been the topic this week for me. I talk about trust often, because it’s an important part of the healing process and I know how hard it is to build, especially so after trust has been broken. I hope you give yourself an opportunity to explore why the word trust shakes your core, and that you find forgiveness along the way.
Recently, I moved to a little place in the woods. I’m surrounded by trees and fresh air. It’s been quite a grounding experience. In the short amount of time that I’ve been here, I feel like I have more mental clarity and am finally able to stabilize in ways that I wasn’t even expecting. I lost a piece of myself after my car accident. Some days it feels like I lose a little piece of myself with every pain, with every added hardship, with every doubt. Hope can be hard to find, that was especially true at the beginning. I’ve come out of that experience with more gratitude and humility… probably trust too. On the days where hope didn’t exist, there was a darkness that felt impossible and heavy. Over the last two months, I got to walk alongside that darkness. It was hard to do but ultimately, I feel so much stronger now. I feel like I’ve been gifted this opportunity to heal and in order for me to be successful in my healing, I needed to embrace the pain. That is what strengthens my recovery… every single time. My ability to sit in the ugly, dark, painful truth and still find hope.
“The degree to which you are willing to embrace the pain of recovery, is the degree to which you will recover.”
– Unknown
I took a leap of faith moving out into the woods, and it only took 3 short weeks to get me to this place that I feel ready. Ready for what, I don’t know. But I know that this time has been necessary to help me prepare myself for how the rest of this journey shows up. I know that the trees can take away my worries and fears. I know that the fresh mountain water can cleanse away the burdens that are not mine to carry. I know that the songs the birds are singing are sung just for me. These blessings are a gift of life and hope. When I think about where I am in this moment, I get overwhelmed with fear and excitement. The fear probably comes from a place of not feeling good enough or like I’ll fail, which I’m just going to hand right on over to my Higher Power and not let that drive my behaviors. Instead, I’ll sit in the excitement and have gratitude that I get to go on this journey. If you had ever told me that I would be right where I am, I wouldn’t have believed you. And yet here I am living it. I can’t attribute any of it to me being lucky or the stars aligning in my favor. I can attribute it to blind faith. Because when I had no other options, faith was what brought me through. It was all the years of practice that made it possible for me to even consider faith in my darkest times. Now it is a part of my testimony. I know from lived experience that you can turn around any negative, into a positive, and any darkness into light. In the past, fear is what carried me through most things… now, it’s faith. So, I will continue to show up in my faith, with both confidence and conviction.
When I sit down to write, I like to be intentional about what I share out. Part of what I do is create a space to allow myself to be vulnerable. Open up about my feelings. Practice tools I’ve learned. And share my own Experience, Strength, and Hope. Often it comes with me putting words down but then realizing there is more work to be done before I can truly be intentional. It’s quite a process but it seems to work. Sometimes creating the space for me to be vulnerable means that I have to get through the mud to figure out what it is that I’m even feeling. Putting it into words isn’t an easy thing to do. It’s taken me years of practice, and I’m still a human being that gets it wrong. Recently I’ve had a lot going on which has given me lots of opportunities to feel my feelings. So much so, that it’s taking daily intentional work to overcome and teaches me something new about myself everyday. I have been experiencing three intense feelings all at once. I feel insecure. I feel abandoned. I feel unworthy. With one comes the other. Each causing the other to intensify. When I feel insecure, I find more reasons I feel abandoned or unworthy. When I feel unworthy, I start to feel more insecure and abandoned. When I feel abandoned, I feel unworthy and insecure. It’s a vicious cycle that requires a lot of work to stand up to. I’m blessed to have many tools and support that allow me to move through these feelings, rather than live in them. Currently, I’m in the midst of turning these negative feelings of insecurity, abandonment, and unworthiness, to faith, hope, and trust. To do that, I have to let go. Let go of the idea that I have any control at all. Let go of expectations I might have. Let go of any fantasies. Let go of my ego. Let go of my pride, guilt, and shame. Let go and hand it over. Whatever “it” is. But what does the act of letting go even look or feel like?
“Trust opens up new and unimagined possibilities.”
– Robert C Solomon
A friend of mine described it to me like this… “It’s like dropping a pencil. You just let the pencil go and everything is fine.”. I really appreciated her approach. We talked about what it means if that pencil represents something else such as anger, resentment, or something that’s bothering you. It was a great conversation. I always appreciate a program conversation in the wild. It inspired me to take some time to practice letting go further. Here’s what I learned. When the pencil was a pencil, it was easy to let go. My fingers would release, and the pencil would safely land. I did this over and over again, just to make sure I had the hang of it. Now, when the pencil represented sadness, I couldn’t let the pencil go. Immediately I thought to myself that means I would have to practice acceptance. When the pencil represented anger, I couldn’t let the pencil go. Immediately I thought to myself that means I would need to practice forgiveness. When the pencil represented my insecurities, I couldn’t let the pencil go. I’d need to practice trust. When the pencil represented my feelings of abandonment, I couldn’t let the pencil go. I knew I needed to practice faith. When the pencil represented unworthiness, I couldn’t let the pencil go. I knew what I needed to practice… I thought it was silly. I decided to practice anyways. Hope. I hoped that I could find a way to let go of feeling unworthy. I just sat there hoping at this pencil that I would find the will to just open my fingers and let it drop. And after repeating my hope to this pencil about five times, the pencil dropped from my fingers! It felt like a total accident. Honestly, I was blown away that the pencil dropped out of my fingers, and hope was exactly what was achieved. I became hopeful that I could let go of these feelings of sadness, anger, insecurities, abandonment, unworthiness, by practicing what I’ve learned. What a great example. The fact is it doesn’t come naturally to practice acceptance, forgiveness, trust, faith, and hope. It takes hard, intentional work. Every time I feel sadness, I have to practice acceptance. Every time I feel anger, I have to practice forgiveness. Every time I feel insecure, I have to practice trust. You get the picture. It is up to me to put in the work to come out of the negative feelings on the other side. Part of moving through the healing process is to embrace the feelings and try to understand what it is that they are telling you. Consider the feeling an opportunity to learn something new about yourself. When I picked up the pencil again, this time I chose acceptance instead of sadness, and I was able to let the pencil go. Forgiveness instead of anger, I let the pencil go. Trust instead of insecurities, I let the pencil go. And so forth. Letting go takes practice. Lots and lots of practice. Maybe next time you can’t figure out how to let something go, grab a pencil. See what it’s trying to tell you. Practice letting go of the pencil while it’s a pencil and once you’ve got the hang of it, let the pencil represent whatever “it” is that you are going through and try to learn what it’s telling you. What a fun experiment that was. Letting go keeps me healthy. I often hand things over to my Higher Power; I find that helpful. When I care about the outcome of something, the more I try to hang onto it, the more of a mess I seem to make. I’ve come to find that by letting go, I create the space for something better, beyond what I could even imagine. When I first started practicing letting go, I started with trust. Trust in myself. Trust in others. Trust in my Higher Power. Just as hard as it was to let the pencil go when it represented my insecurities, it was just as hard when the pencil represented trust. It was, however, much easier to get to the letting go part when the pencil represented trust. A lesson learned from the pencil. It takes less energy, to focus on trust. So, for now, I’m just a girl with her #2 pencil, practicing acceptance, forgiveness, faith, hope, and trust, until I come out on the other side.
Over the last couple of months, I have finally had the capacity to do some reflection on everything that has occurred over the last two years. I have been taking much needed time to heal and recover Physically, Intellectually, Emotionally, and Spiritually. What a journey it’s been. It’s brought up many feelings and lots of questions. Some of the things that stand out to me are pain, sadness, grief, resilience, forgiveness, serenity, gratitude, and joy. I don’t think I’ll be able to put it into words in a way that can give it justice. What I can do, is share with you pieces of the journey that might offer some clarity. The thing that comes to mind first is to share my most recent doctor’s appointment and some of the challenges I’m still having. Before even going into the doctor’s office, I pretty much begged the doctor’s medical team to have the doctor review my medical history before meeting with me, with the emphasis that I want to rebuild trust to continue my care. My anxiety about that appointment was through the roof, but my therapist had assigned this task as homework for me to do before our next session and I knew it needed to be done. I had reservations though. I didn’t want to be treated the way I had in the past. I wanted them to take my request seriously. I just wanted an opportunity to further my healing. I didn’t want to go in there with my dukes up, but my lived experience through this accident stuff had me not trusting anyone in the primary care department. For a week leading up to the appointment, I was a mess every time it came to mind. I had to continuously use my tools, reason things out with my closest support people, and stay in contact with my Higher Power. By the time the morning came, my nerves were wrecked! I pushed through anyways and rehearsed the Serenity Prayer many times leading up to me standing in front of their building. I took a deep breath and made my way in. Somehow, I stayed fully present through the check-in process and walked step by step to the second floor. I sat there for a moment unable to read or concentrate like I was used to in the past. This time I anxiously got up and paced between entry ways not knowing which direction they would be coming out from, until I settled in a spot that gave me a full view where no one could surprise me. Repeating the Serenity Prayer some more and focusing on my breathing. Inhale. Exhale. Repeat. Doing my best to keep my heart rate down. They finally called me back to the exam room, and somehow, through this I still managed to be present with each foot forward. They got my weight and vitals, then I sat down. I remember the gal helping me from prior interactions, she always gave me the vibe that she genuinely cares about what she does so I found myself uncontrollably blurting out “I don’t want to be here”. She responded with compassion and asked me questions, so I went on to explain to her some of my experiences that led to the outburst, and she reassured me, gave me helpful advice, and offered me empathy. I appreciated her response to my reaction. She finally left and told me the doctor would be in shortly. I honestly don’t recall how long it took, but it seemed like he was there pretty quickly. I never did see his face since he had a mask on, but I know in my heart that I will always remember him as the person who saw me. And I mean really saw me. He started with an introduction and pleasantries, and quickly announced that he reviewed my chart and then asked me for a picture of what’s going on. I went on to explain to him the surgical history, the important details about the accident, and my physical symptoms (I don’t need to share more about those), that he needed to know to feel good about processing my request for pelvic floor therapy.
“You get in life what you have the courage to ask for.”
– Oprah Winfrey
This doctor was great and truly handled my care with dignity and respect. He saw me as a person and honored everything I have been through since my accident. He validated my anxiety and unease about being in that clinic and told me that I have every right to feel the way I do, and that my PTSD is very real. He verbalized how proud of me he was for getting myself off all the medications and he cleared my med list without pushing more meds on me. I don’t manage my symptoms with narcotics or muscle relaxers anymore; I use a wide array of alternative methods that do not compromise my personality or ability to be present. The list of things I do to help myself to stay healthy is extensive. He asked me some questions to see how much of my daily functioning has been impacted, and he encouraged me to put full effort into the pelvic floor therapy in hopes that I will see improvements. He shared with me the type of practices that may be offered and even shared a personal story of a loved one that regained function after participating in those practices. I felt reassured and hopeful. Then we got into how much of my cognitive functioning has been affected. I shared with him that my therapist was concerned about a TBI. He asked if I hit my head, I said “no”. Then he asked me to share some of the symptoms that lead to that concern. I went on to explain to him that relationships have changed, I don’t recognize familiar people, I forget names and events, I struggle with decision-making and problem solving, words are often hard to find, difficulty expressing thoughts or understanding others, unable to process information, getting overwhelmed easily, forgetting where I am, memory loss, unable to collect thoughts when too much is happening around me, just to name a few. He let me know that the amount of nerve damage I’ve experienced has affected my cognitive functioning and that he cannot guarantee I will get it back but encouraged me to keep doing what I’m doing. I found his approach to me very kind and felt that he met me where I was at by getting on my level. He took the time to understand me instead of just pushing his own will on me or treating me as less than. I am so grateful that I walked into that clinic with courage, and that I asked for what I needed. He helped me regain some hope and trust. Both medical staff I met with gave me the tools I need to get my complex needs met; a much better interaction than I have had in the past.
My journey of recovery and rehabilitation is a work in progress. I continue to find ways to adjust and improve my overall well-being. I find joy more often, that’s good. I have my good days and bad days, and just as I’ve said before, even my bad days mean something. I am blessed that I can walk without assistance. I have a whole community of people standing with me, that I am beyond grateful for. Life as I know it will never be the same, but it is a life worth living after all.
It’s been over two months since I wrote last. I’ve been taking the time I need to recover Physically, Intellectually, Emotionally, And Spiritually (known as PIES). There is still much work to be done. As of now though, my hip is doing well. The surgeon was very optimistic at my 3-month post-op appointment. She even cleared me for exploring alternative low-impact cardio and jogging in the pool. That’s very exciting. I’m still in physical therapy and will be for some time. It’s going good for the most part. I still overdo it occasionally, but overall, I’m finding balance with my hip and my back. Now that the hip is doing well, my nerve damage is prominent, so we are exploring ways to change the way I live with the pain and practicing ways to quiet the nerves signals. We have been doing yoga stretches, and started some nerve desensitization work which has been very challenging. Last week I got about 40 minutes of partial relief using desensitization techniques, and when the relief faded, the pain returned higher than it was before. It took me days to recover from it. On Friday I felt relief during the float tank session I had. I honestly had about 50 minutes of complete pain relief. What they don’t tell you about pain, is that when you have it constantly making noise in your brain and you never get relief, when you finally do get relief, it’s going to hit like a ton of bricks. It’ll flood you with clarity, a new perspective so to speak, high emotions of grief and sadness, solutions to problems, and an abundance of more things to think about. For someone like me who lives with this constant high pain, those pain-free moments are divine. That’s where I connect most with my Higher Power and where I can deeply meditate, to a place of temporary tranquility. It’s the after affects that are the hardest.
You see, I can literally count on both hands the number of hours of pain relief that I have had in the last 534 days. There was the 1 hour after getting a steroid injection in my hip; after the hour was up, my pain became so intense I was bed ridden after. It hurt to stand, walk, or drive. And that night, I bawled like a baby I was so overwhelmed with all of the emotions that hit me during that hour. Then there were the 3 hours I had during my surgery. They gave me the anesthesia (it’s funny, I refused to count down and chatted them all up until I was knocked out), and then I woke up. I may not remember those 3 hours, but I never once had pain on the brain. It’s just a blip of darkness in my memory bank, with no benefit that I can identity outside of the obvious… surgery on the hip. Then there was the 1.5 hours I got this last week. That hour and a half deserves a much better explanation and I’ll tell ya why here shortly. Before then, I want to point out that that is a total of 5.5 hours of pain relief… out of 12,816 hours since the pain started. Feel free to do the math to find out the percentage of time that I live pain-free. And as much as I am grateful for those hours, I hope my share today can offer insight and understanding for those who do not live with chronic pain like this. But maybe you know someone who does. I have been challenged in ways I never thought I’d have to face. I have had to accept things I wish I didn’t have to. Recently it’s even come to my attention that I will never be able to go back to the way things were, because even if I work hard at it, the amount of time it’s going to take me to get to where I’m striving for is going to come with its own set of behaviors, challenges, and trauma. Things I have to be super vigilant about in this journey, or just things I’ll have to overcome when I get to where I’m going. And since my capacity is so limited, I’m not sure I can keep up so there’s bound to be work that needs to be done. It’s going to be really important that I make myself a priority… always. My brain doesn’t work the same way anymore. There are literal times when the pain is so high, I don’t even recognize my surroundings. Collecting a complete thought becomes impossible. I forget words. It’s like I hit a wall and then bam, I’m mush. My brain is different now, and I’m still trying to figure out how to adapt to this new way of life.
“Understanding is the first step to acceptance, and only with acceptance can there be recovery.”
– JK Rowling
Now back to the hour and a half of pain relief I had. I felt this needed more explanation to offer clarity for those interested in deeper understanding. It was time split between two activities. The first was my physical therapy session; as mentioned above, we started working on desensitizing the nerves. I may have received some relief but the after affects might not have been worth it. I’m still taking inventory on that. The days following were very challenging, in all areas of my being. Though I do have the tools I need to do that work at home now, let me make it clear… it is hard work. But I can now introduce the desensitization work into my life, slow and steady. It’s just going to take time. We’ll probably do that work again in PT here in the next few weeks, but the homework I’m doing won’t be nearly as intense as those sessions. Hopefully by that time, I’ll have built up some tolerance by then. The second activity was the float tank. An hour session gives me about 50 minutes of relief, where I literally have no pain as I am floating. I am beyond grateful that I found something that helps me have pain relief in this way so that I can take a mental break when needed. It’s not something I can do all the time right now, but once every couple of weeks is reasonable. I look forward to my next session. In time, I’m positive and hopeful that I’ll find other ways to get relief. Nerve damage is a challenging thing to navigate. I don’t know if I will ever get relief in the sense that I’ll have pain-free days, and that’s a hard thing to accept. But I do plan to continue to work in the direction of healing, whatever that might look like.
As of now, I’m still recovering from that pain-free time from the float tank. My brain is mush. So, I have no choice but to take extra good care of myself. Being that I am a mother and its Mother’s Day, I’m choosing to stay in sweatpants and do nothing short of what I want. In this moment, that’s to write this out so that I can move through to further healing. My hope is to do this again sooner now that I know what I’m up against. Acceptance is something that takes time and practice. I’m grateful for all the opportunities I’ve had that helped me work through this current journey. It allows me to put acceptance into practice with more ease. And when we can practice acceptance, we open up the space for us to have peace and serenity, in the middle of any storm. I encourage you to check out my latest YouTube video above, “Five Seconds of Courage”. I talked about powerlessness. I couldn’t have got myself to this place of clarity so quickly without admitting I was powerless and truly accepting what is. To practice powerlessness is to practice acceptance, and that is hard work. But not impossible. For many of us, powerlessness and acceptance do not come naturally. It takes hard, intentional work to practice those things. It’s like a muscle. You have to use it to build muscle strength and endurance. And if you’re not aware of the fact that you are or are not practicing powerlessness and acceptance, trust me when I say that you are causing harm to yourself and others. It might be time to take a personal inventory. Maybe ask yourself “Am I trying to control the outcome?” or “Is this something I have control over?” or how about “Is this my Higher Power’s will or my own?”. Asking yourself these questions might offer you some insight. I for one, am glad to be in a place where I can identify and let go of the things that are out of my control. I’m glad I have the courage to change the things I can. It sure helps lighten the load of all the burdens I do carry. There’s no point of me carrying burdens that I have no control over. Plus, it helps me stay healthy enough so that I can more easily identify when I’m maybe not operating at my best, so that I can tend to my own needs and continue on in my journey of healing. For now, I will Listen and Learn about myself and the things around me, so that I can mindfully and intentionally grow through what I go through, no matter the difficulties. Stay tuned, the best has yet to come.
Fear and anxiety can at times be crippling. But where do we begin when fear and anxiety have hit that point? Over the years I have gained many tools and support that help me during those times. Most of the time before they become crippling, but not always. Recently I had something come up for me that was emotionally and spiritually important to me, and that fear started to take over. It was a lot of work to continuously overcome those negative thoughts and not let it drive my behaviors. Afterall, fear is False Evidence Appearing Real. Thankfully with the help of my tools and support, it never did hit me in a crippling way. I knew I would regret not listening to my heart so I put in a lot of hard work to ensure that didn’t happen. And I am beyond grateful that I put in the work to take care of myself (over days mind you) and truly prepare myself to be my strongest self before finally having just five seconds of courage to push through my fear and anxiety. Because truth be told, that’s all it takes for us to take big leaps. As many of you might know, fear and anxiety can prevent us from ever getting to the point of having those five seconds of courage. And that’s okay. It’ll be more fulfilling if you put in the work to behave in healthy ways versus reacting out of emotions. For myself, with this particular emotional and spiritual important thing to me (it was an amends to someone), it required that I took time to reflect on my emotions, reflect of my motives, reflect on whether I had any expectations, reflect on whether I am healthy enough in my recovery, reflect on the past, reflect on whether there might be harm done, you name it. There was a lot of work I put in to ensure that I was doing the right thing. During the process, there were many fearful and anxious thoughts that would try to take over. Instead of letting those thoughts live in my head, I handed them over and would say the Serenity Prayer, have a conversation with my Higher Power or a trusted friend, write it out, and truly take care of myself. I gave myself time to understand my fear. I gave myself time to understand my anxiety. And what it came down to was that it was important to me. It makes total sense that through the process I got worked up about possible outcomes. I also know from experience that I could come up with a thousand different scenarios that might happen and not one of them would be correct. The next best thing was to accept that I was powerless over how another person responds to me or how they react. The only thing I have control over are my own actions and words, and it’s important to me that I honor my authentic self. I’ve learned over the years that if I work my recovery, use my tools and support, I have a better chance of coming out stronger and healthier. And let me tell you, that’s exactly what happened. Not only was the experience positive in really big ways, but I also came to really see (and feel) how far I have come over the years. Chasing recovery has a way of really paying off in unexpected ways. Of course, the process is scary and unknown, but trust me when I say, it is totally worth it.
“The best way out is always through.”
– Robert Frost
Recovery often feels like starting all over. Rediscovering who you really are, without hiding behind that one thing that has kept you from being your true, authentic self. To learn new behaviors and beliefs, while placing our problems in its true perspective, allows us an opportunity to grow and heal in really big ways. The longer I practice what I learn and reach out to my support, the more I can see the growth in my life, providing strong support in times of doubt, and bringing me great strength and courage I didn’t have before. I may have been skeptical at first, but I paid attention to what was happening around me, and in my life, bringing me perspective that helped me build trust in myself and in the process of recovery. Time somehow offers us insight and gives us an opportunity to be more informed, so if I can offer you anything, I offer you this… keep showing up to put in the work, giving yourself time to see how it shows up for you in your life. Same when it comes to using new tools… practice the tools for a short time before giving up on them for not working. Just as a new habit takes time to build, learning new behaviors and ways of coping deserves the same time to implement into your life. Give yourself lots of grace and remember that you are a beautifully pieced together masterpiece that came together through Progress, Not Perfection. For me, I look forward to seeing more about how my recovery helps me to keep taking the leap and finding that five seconds of courage it takes to change my life in unexpected (and beautiful) ways!
The last week has been the hardest since the surgery. I was beyond irritable, snapping at everything, and the anger was just building up. I knew something wasn’t right. I made the decision to take myself off of my pain meds. It was necessary. As soon as I was able to be more clear headed, I was hit with waves of grief. I spent two days in bed, trying to feel my feelings. There were lots of tears, and honestly, I’m still working through it all. It always amazes me how grief likes to sneak up when we are at our most vulnerable. Grief is something that I have come to embrace and process in healthy ways. It looks much different now in my life than it did for all the years before my recovery. It was so uncomfortable at first, I wanted nothing to do with it. It was scary, stressful, painful, sad. All things I didn’t want to feel. Nor did I have the tools or support to grieve in any healthy way. After knowing how to shove it down for so many years, being healthy about it was not something I knew anything about. I sure came to learn though how not grieving showed up in my life… through anger, irritability, depression, fear, overthinking, obsession, poor coping. I could go on. What matters now is that I have all the tools and support to help me identify when I’m not doing well and how to move through grief in ways that don’t affect my life in negative ways any longer. Learning about the different stages of grief was a big part of the process of learning to cope in a positive manner. Denial. Anger. Bargaining. Depression. Acceptance. And each of those stages has unique ways of working through them. Even after all these years, I still move through the stages of grief of things I thought I’d accepted, and I have to work through the process all over again. You see, grief is overwhelming sadness and a series of goodbyes. It comes in waves. Just when you think that you moved through something, there is a chance of being re-triggered and having to start the process all over again. As long as you are aware enough to come out of denial, you will be able to move through the next stages that much easier. And it truly does get easier each time. The recent days I was feeling irritable, I knew that I was feeling something that I wasn’t processing properly. Every little thing was making me angry and sensitive. By taking myself off of my pain meds, I gave myself the headspace to truly see what was going on. Grief. Grieving something I’ve worked on grieving for many years, and somehow every time I am vulnerable, it comes up again and I’m working through it all over again. Something will pop up and it’s back to step one… back to basics. That’s okay. I sure am grateful that I have the ability to pick myself up when I am back there again, because I’ve come to learn that it’s a normal part of the process of working through our emotions in healthy ways. And you know what? It’s okay to not be okay. As long as we don’t stay there. Grief is meant to visit. It’s what helps us grow. I for one, wouldn’t be who I am today if it wasn’t for the grief that I’ve experienced. Grief is proof that love existed and the loss of whatever it is, was painful because that love was there. By denying grief and not working through it properly, we deny love. We deny honoring what the love gave us. Why would we do that? It might be uncomfortable to truly feel grief, I get it. But by denying it, we are denying our true, raw, authentic feelings. So… for the next few days, I plan to take extra care of myself and really feel my feelings. Work through the grief. And honor what it is giving to me. I know it will fade again, as it always does. I also know that the grief will be back again, as it always is. And that’s okay. Because honoring grief, and truly letting it show up in my life, is proof that love existed. That’s something I need because there are more days that I have forgotten that, than there are days I remember it. Just for today, I will go back to basics, taking things one day at a time, accepting I am powerless, and using the tools I have been so blessed to receive.
God, grant me the serenity, to accept the things I cannot change. Courage to change the things I can. And wisdom to know the difference.
– Serenity Prayer
Though grief may not seem like it should be a part of my physical recovery, it plays a much bigger role than you’d think. For me to be intellectually, emotionally, and spiritually healthy, I have to work through it so that I can be strong enough to push through my physical healing. These are important parts of ourselves that need the most tender love and care. Otherwise, I know I risk remaining irritable, angry, and depressed, causing more harm to myself and others around me. If you are struggling with grief, reach out for help. Admit to yourself and someone else that you are struggling. We are not meant to go through grief on our own. Rely on your community, on your family and friends. Let them show up for you. And pray. The grief is worth honoring, no matter what stage or how long ago the loss happened. Grief knows no time limit. If you can practice the things I mentioned above, you will grow, heal, and find gratitude, and that’s a beautiful gift worth working toward.
Through my grief, I have found ways to express myself, self care, and to give back, to ensure I’m honoring everything I’ve received through the healing process and what I’ve learned along the way. I feel called to a higher purpose of sharing my experience, strength, and hope, to help others in their own journey of recovery. And in order for me to be successful in this, I must practice self care every day. An act many of us could do better in. To grieve and grow in healthy ways, we must learn and practice the art of self care. Because self care is the best care we can give ourselves, to help us be successful through the challenging process known as recovery.
The last week has been good. I’ve been able to find some balance in some areas of my life. My main focuses are my physical self, intellectual self, emotional self, and spiritual self. When I have each of those areas balanced, I operate at my best. Since my physical recovery is in progress, that is just something that I have to take my time on and follow all of the recommendations I’ve been given, and then I have to work extra hard in the other three parts of myself. Intellectually I have been doing really well. I’ve been reading some great books, that are challenging me in my healing, goals I have, teaching me more about things I’m passionate about, and keeping me stimulated. Reading has been a positive way for me to not go down any rabbit holes of excessive social media scrolling, overthinking, or distracting myself from reality. It’s been an overall good experience. I’ve also maintained positive interactions with people… with my supports. This keeps me growing and healthy. It also helps me find balance emotionally. Maintaining my community rather than isolating or pushing away, has allowed me to grow my relationships further and truly expose myself to others. I’ve been able to ask for help, be vulnerable, express gratitude, and really open myself up to the love everyone is offering. That has not only been overwhelming, but also so good for my growth. As for balancing my spiritual well-being, I continue to maintain my relationships with those who are on a similar journey as me in faith, I have taken time to study more faith-based teachings, I am in constant contact with my Higher Power, and I have carved out time and space to be still. Practicing these things keeps me spiritually healthy. In all of these areas, I know that there is room for improvement, so I continue to put in the work each day… with intention. Since my most challenging focus area is my physical health, I make it a point to give myself extra time in all of the other areas, so that they can carry me through as my physical health recovers.
“The process of healing does not end when the wounds are no longer visible. It ends when the wounds no longer ache.”
– Muskan Sharma
To give an update about my physical health, I’m riding my bike twice a day as I was instructed to. I’m up to six minutes each ride! I’m supposed to increase my time by one minute every other day. I started physical therapy today, and though I started with what might appear as the lowest of low exercises, they are challenging for me. Even just completing my first set this evening, I am already a little sore and I know it will take a few days of persistence and repetition, for me to do them with ease. I could focus on the fact that these are literal baby step exercises, and I “should” be able to do them, or how ridiculous it seems that they are “challenging”, or I could lie and tell myself that they will make no difference, but none of those would be conducive to my mental health or my physical recovery. Instead, I will celebrate the fact that I am motivated and putting in the work! It takes great patience, resilience and perseverance to get through a journey like this. And I am beyond hopeful that every single moment of hard work in this journey will be worth it, down to the smallest of details. My mindset is an important part of my success in this. I choose to be positive and if there is anything that starts to get too heavy or feel negative, I hand it over. I call someone and reason things out. I find ways to be still, and to work it out with my Higher Power and my community. I meditate and pray. I slow down and refocus. I’ll be honest, a few days ago when my pain levels went up, I was frustrated and angry for longer than I liked. I had to work extra hard to work through that in a healthy way, so as not to stay there. Coming out of it really didn’t take as much as I expected it to, because of how much practice I have had over the years. My fear no longer took over like it could have in the past. Instead, I was met with so much grace, understanding, patience, encouragement, love and support, that I naturally started to feel the same way. Having a supportive community such as mine can really make all the difference, especially in journeys such as these. Moving into this next phase of my recovery, I know that I will have hard days. Physical therapy is my least favorite thing… ever. To add that on top of everything else, I had to prepare myself mentally for this. And then if anything happens that increases my pain, it can really throw things off. Just this evening after riding the bike and accidentally stepping off with too much weight on my leg, my pain levels went up and I instantly was getting irritated and feeling a bit miserable. After recognizing my mood, I immediately sent a message to a friend, sharing about my pain. They didn’t try to fix it. They didn’t tell me I shouldn’t feel that way. They heard me. They supported me. Within minutes I felt better. Not because my pain went away, but because I knew I wasn’t alone. There are other moments when I ugly cry because someone supports me in ways, I didn’t even know I needed. All because I am seen, and they honor my journey for what it is. That makes all the difference for me. If you as reader take anything from this share, I hope you recognize just how powerful investing in your own healing can be for your past, present and future self. If it wasn’t for the many years of investment that I put into healing in all the areas of my life (physically, intellectually, emotionally & spiritually), this journey would look much different. So, take the leap. Put in the effort. Truly discover yourself and learn to meet your own needs. Get in touch with your Higher Power. Build your community. Find out what drives your behaviors and work on healing with intention. Discover what you like and don’t like about yourself. Learn to trust and truly love yourself. In the end, you will give yourself an amazing gift, that will keep on giving to you and everyone whose life you touch.
Well, I am three days Post-Op and am doing surprisingly well! Honestly, I feel better than I expected. I even feel better now than I did the first six months after the accident. I am feeling pretty optimistic. I have challenges of course, I just had surgery after all. My hip and leg are sore, tender, and weak, however, the pain I had pre-surgery is almost non-existent. That is really promising! It could be the meds I’m on, or it could be that the surgery was much more successful than I anticipated. Time will tell. I’ve been able to get on the spin bike to keep my hip moving. I’m supposed to ride it twice a day. I started at two minutes and have to increase my time by one minute every other day. It’s not easy by any means, but it’s totally doable. I’m up to three minutes. This morning was difficult, but I took the queues that my body needed rest and that’s what I did. Here in a week, I’ll start physical therapy. That I think will be the hardest part of all of this for me. It was the hardest part after the accident. I have firsthand knowledge of what it will take, and I am prepared to put in the work. My support has been amazing. My mental health is in a good place. Overall, I am doing really well. The last year has prepared me for this part of my journey. Taking things slow and steady is what is helping me operate at my best. Slow and steady was my theme for 2022, so I got a lot of practice. I must say too, that all the time I spent on crutches after the accident, really helped me prepare for this. I am able to get around pretty good and I’m fully present. I’m slow and my hip/leg doesn’t move well, but I anticipate it won’t take long to get some of my mobility back. I feel truly blessed to have my lived experience and a strong supportive community, that help me through this time in my life. When I think back to the challenges I’ve had to face over the last 14 months since the accident, this seems like a small chapter of that story.
“Radical Acceptance is the willingness to experience ourselves and our life as it is. A moment of Radical Acceptance is a moment of genuine freedom.”
– Tara Brach, 2004
To be totally transparent, I expected this part of the journey to include way more tears and more moments of wanting to give up. I definitely wasn’t expecting to feel so good and being able to be as present as I have been. That’s not to say I won’t have my moments, but this is a great start to everything I have coming. I’m grateful to have much of my independence through this. I’ve had to set myself up with assisted devices and ask for a lot of help, so that I could maintain my independence. Especially as a single individual. Anyone going through something like this could attest to the fact that losing one’s independence is a hard part of these types of journey’s. I have so many doohickey’s at home to help me though. From a sock aid, toilet riser, body pillow, grabber, to furniture risers, leg lifter strap and shower chair. It’s the little things that make a huge difference in me being able to maintain good mental health. I think if I didn’t have that type of help, I’d be pretty upset and struggle much more. Of course, there are some things that I just have to accept are on hold and will come in time. That’s okay. I’ve been working on acceptance for some time now. It just gets easier and easier with each opportunity. I’m glad I was able to find the space to give an update. Writing is such a helpful way for me to express myself and to work through what I’m going through. Not to mention the opportunity for reflection. I’ll work to give another update within a week or so, especially to check in when the physical therapy starts. In the meantime, I will focus on my healing and my physical recovery, and in this moment, it’s nap time! Stay tuned everyone. More to come!
With everything going on, I figured giving an update on my medical stuff would help me feel better and give others perspective about what’s going on in my life. This has been many months in the making and it’s been over a year since the car accident. As of this last week, I am officially scheduled to have surgery on my hip in just two short weeks. My Orthopedic Surgeon will be performing Hip Arthroscopy surgery, while also repairing my labral tear. Basically, she is reshaping the femoral head by shaving it down to remove bone that is causing an impingement, and will also be repairing the labrum, so that my joint will sit in the socket properly. Depending on how the surgery goes and what it looks like, there is a chance that they will need to perform micro-drilling as well (where they create little mini fractures to help increase blood flow to stimulate cartilage growth if needed), but I just won’t know until I come out of surgery if it was performed or not. That will depend on the condition of my joint when they get in there; as of now, I do have fluid buildup in my bone marrow, indicating my bone is not getting enough blood flow, which has caused further damage. It definitely hasn’t helped my ability to heal. My recovery is expected to look like 6-8 weeks on crutches. The micro-drilling happening or not will determine if it’ll be 2 or 8 weeks non-weightbearing. Directly after the surgery, they will perform Radiation Therapy on my hip (don’t worry, I won’t feel a thing, it’s low-risk & very effective) to help prevent excessive bone growth and over healing, then I will go home that night. By the time I get home that night, I will get on a spin cycle… twice a day for the duration of my recovery (the goal is to keep it up permanently), gradually increasing my time on the bike. I will also engage in a very strict 18-page Physical Therapy regimen over that timeframe. It’s intensive. It’ll help get me where I need to be though, to hopefully walk unassisted again. That is the hope. There is also a 50% chance that we will need to do the same thing on the other side, but we won’t know until after the full recovery time has passed for this initial surgery. I’ve also been continuously warned that there is damage to my nerves coming out of the base of my spinal cord, however I am already seeing improvement through my meditation and lifestyle changes, which is super positive. I am hopeful that will continue to improve as I grow in my practices and as I heal physically. Oh, how I look forward to doing yoga again! Every part of me needs yoga. I also plan to continue to maintain good self-care and include things like massage, acupuncture, float tanks and other practices, that require being present and mindful. This journey will be far from easy, but I am glad to share that I have been eating a healthy (and delicious) diet, specifically designed to help keep inflammation down, that should be maintainable through this process. I have support to call or video chat with. I have support that will come over. I have support that is willing to help pick up groceries, meal prep with me, pick me up and take me to go bake cookies, people to pray with, support groups I can attend virtually, support that will be there for me in many ways, so that I can be successful. I am also blessed to be able to take the time off work, so that I can focus only on my physical recovery and maintaining good mental health. Though this may be a challenging journey, the view that comes after should be pretty amazing.
There are lots of things that I plan to focus on to help create distance from all the hard work I will be putting in. Things like forgiveness, humility, grace, trust, patience, understanding, and all of those wonderful things that continue to grow in my life. I plan to embrace those things by journaling, puzzling, coloring, crocheting, reading, listening to podcasts, and truly taking care of myself. I plan to be present in my recovery and in this journey. I plan to soak up everything that it offers me, so that I can maximize my growth and healing. There is always much more that happens behind the scenes than people see. My hope is to share my recovery in some way, whether it be through writing or something else. I’m hoping I will be in a good place to share. I do also know the reality is that there will be some haaaaaard moments/days through this that I may not want to share about or be in a place to. Those moments will be best left for my support people who are prepared to lift me up with faith, hope and trust, because that is what I will need. As of now, I am as prepared as I can be. I’ve asked for help where I need it and I have safety set up with my supports. I am really looking forward to how this experience helps grow my relationships and my faith. There are some things I have fear around, however I just keep handing those things over and using my tools to get through. Fear has a funny way of getting us off course, so I just acknowledge the fear and am open with my Higher Power about how I’m feeling. That really helps. I always feel tons lighter when I am open about my fear. Even when it seems ridiculous. Part of the journey of fear is trust. That can be challenging to navigate for someone like me with trust issues. Sure makes me grateful for my program, my community and the foundation I have built. Makes growing through things much less challenging. Being able to reason things out with another person and put fear in words without judgement, shame or someone trying to fix it, makes a big difference in feeling good about being open and honest about fears, that’s for sure. I recognize not everyone is as fortunate as I am. It takes really building those relationships through boundaries, trust, understanding, patience, vulnerability and intention. If it wasn’t for having some solid relationships in my life, this surgery wouldn’t even be possible. This next step in my healing wouldn’t be possible. And I’m sure that there are many folks out there who do not get the same chance I do. I am truly blessed to have this opportunity to grow and heal, physically, intellectually, emotionally, and spiritually, so I must honor this amazing gift by jumping in with both feet and no fear. And just maybe, my journey might help someone in their journey. The best has yet to come.
