Almost everyday for over a month now I have sat at this computer screen and attempted to write this blog post. Every single time I have struggled with finding the courage to be vulnerable and actually share anything of value. I was doing so good there for the first month, writing every week. It’s about Progress, Not Perfection right? I was using my tools and calling all my support people. And even though I was going through something heavy, I was still pushing forward. The holidays were making it a little more difficult so I was falling a bit short around then as well, but what really set me back was a car accident. The weekend after Thanksgiving I was rear-ended, leaving me in pain these last few weeks. I’ve lived with chronic pain for 8 years now because of another car accident, and I was getting so much better with my physical therapy and daily yoga. It was finally manageable after all these years. Now after this most recent accident, I am unable to do most of my daily activities and I’m busy with daily exercises, appointments of chiropractic and physical therapy. Then my mental health started to decline. Before the accident I was doing my best to keep my head up high even though I was battling depression, but once I was in high pain again like before, I just couldn’t push through it anymore. Now I am susceptible to exposure in any situation because in any moment I might breakdown and cry, because being in pain and having to do all the things, just doesn’t seem possible and it’s extremely overwhelming. I keep getting stuck in the thought that I am going to feel this way for years to come and it just makes everything else feel so much heavier. I am so truly grateful for all of the support that I have had this last month. The support who have driven me to my appointments, cleaned my house, gone grocery shopping for me, bought us gifts, listened to me when I was hitting my lows. That first couple weeks after the accident were a test for me. Accepting help is not something I have ever done well. And asking for help was even more foreign. Now here I am these last few weeks, getting in lots of practice because my only other choice would be to hurt myself trying to take care of everything on my own like I normally do. Accepting and asking for help is extremely vulnerable for me. And frankly that has been the only type of vulnerability I could handle this last month, making it difficult for me in other areas of my life. Anything outside of my immediate pain, I have had to set aside my healing or growth so that I can focus on my physical healing, because I do not want to live with this pain for years like I did with my last accident, nor have I had the mental capacity to handle anything outside of that. I want to heal and recover, so that I can excel in my future goals, not hurt myself. Pain has a way of bringing a person down. Even the strongest of people will break down when the pain is coupled with too many of life’s burdens. Anyone who lives with chronic pain might understand that sometimes when it gets bad enough, we just want it to end because thinking about living with that pain for years to come, seems unbearable. Nobody wants to think that way, but that’s a reality for those of us who have pain we don’t know how to heal, with no resolve. I’ve had to give myself space to accept that in order for me to get better, I have to move really slow, focus on myself, and really advocate for my care. I have to set aside all of my goals and adjust my plan to work only on the things that will help my recovery, not hinder it. My mind wants to move fast and just be done with it all, and sometimes even want to give up because recovery doesn’t seem possible and I’m exhausted from trying to be heard, but I know that is not true, that I will get better and that my pain is not in my head. So I’ve had to be extra kind with myself and slow down to a pace I didn’t know I was capable of. And with this new pace of mine, I am finding that I am constantly out of my comfort zone; having to say no more often, asking for & accepting help, not accomplishing things I normally would, and just all around having to re-prioritize things. I know that with all of this comes growth, and I am looking forward to getting better and sharing it all with you. It’s just been quite the journey, showing me just how blessed I am to have all the tools and support that I do. I wouldn’t be able to do this and recover the way that I am, if it wasn’t for that. In the past I probably would have fallen much farther back. Instead I am focusing on my long-term recovery, healing my body and mind equally. I am so glad too because slowly I am getting a little better. In the past I wouldn’t have had the support or resilience to push through and get the answers needed in order to get better. I would have given up the first time I got frustrated. Slowly I am getting answers to the next steps I have to take for a full recovery. Slowly I am learning new tools and really finding out what it means to be vulnerable in other areas of my life. It is vulnerable to ask for and accept help. It is vulnerable to call a friend in tears because you are hurting. It is vulnerable to say “I am not capable” of something you’ve done a thousand times before. It is vulnerable to say “I’m focusing on me right now” because brain fog is a real thing; I couldn’t focus on anything else if I wanted to. It is vulnerable to tell your doctor over and over again that you are hurting. It is vulnerable to admit that you are not okay. And it is okay to not be okay. It’s about what we do when we are down. It’s even okay to stay there for a short while. What’s important is that we get up, even if that means we have to take someone’s hand to pull us up, and we put one foot in front of the other, taking things One Step At A Time if we have to. And what’s so wonderful about it all, is that through recovery these last few years, I have found an army of amazingly strong people who are willing to help lift me up when I am down, and walk through the journey with me so that I am not doing it, nor feel like I have to, on my own. There were times in my life that I did not have the support I do now. Instead I surrounded myself around folks who were not healthy and only concerned about themselves or their agendas. They were not capable of helping others. I accepted poor behavior and unhealthy friendships because it was all I knew and their behavior was ‘normal’ to me. It wasn’t until I separated myself, worked my own recovery, and started setting healthy boundaries, did I know that I deserved to be surrounded around folks who genuinely cared about me and my wellbeing. I sure am glad to know different now. One thing I have come to learn is that good things always come when I put in the hard work to be the best version of myself. That goes the same with my recovery, those people in my life, and this project. I get what I give. If I give myself only the best, I will receive the best in return. I am so grateful that I finally learned that I am deserving of only the best, and I know what that looks like now more than ever. Sure took me long enough. I also get how hard it is to see any different when we are in the thick of it. I’ve been there. It gets better… it really does. If you work for it. There will always be setbacks. Life will always show up and give us something that is heavy. With lots of time, practice and the right support, those heavy things life throws at us, become lighter and lighter because we no longer carry it alone. Thank you to all of my support who have helped me this last few weeks, months and years really. Because of the support you offer me, I am able to pick up these setbacks and keep moving forward, without everything feeling as heavy as I once remember. Lows come and go, but our growth stays with us always. This entire experience, even in the worse of pain, has helped motivate me and reminded me why I am on this path to bring support and hope to those who are feeling hopeless and unsupported. Stay tuned followers, the best has yet to come.