When you see and feel the light, you know you’re making progress. What I’m learning though is that the distance from here to there might be the absolute hardest distance within the journey.
All of us are going through something. All of us are healing in some capacity. Not one of us has a harder journey than another; it’s simply our capacity to adapt and how we internalize that makes our experience what it is.
I know that once I get my life back it doesn’t mean that I’ll never need to heal again. But shit, I have enough tools in my healing tool belt that it would make your jaw drop.
So many of you ask how I’m doing and to give updates and I’m so appreciative of those of you who have stuck with me through this gawd awful pain and who have understood my ever changing needs, even if you didn’t truly understand.
I’ve definetly lost friends in this process. Friends who thought my behavior had something to do with them. Friends who took it personally. I have to admit, if you think that fact that I was simply trying to survive each day was about you, then I send you love and wish you well.
I always hope that sharing my experiences can give you insight and inspiration for your current situation.
The reality: I was hit by a figurative 2x4. One that put me on the couch for months. At that time, I thought if I just rested, then I could go back to my life. Two months later, I received a big fat NO from the universe as I tried to fly to Europe and ended up in NYC, unable to get on a plane to even come home. I have to laugh at myself, looking back, thinking that just resting for a few months would heal me, as if I had the flu. No way. Healing requires that we go all in. To the deep, dark, uncomfortable, mucky, stinky cocoon. It’s so beautiful when we hear about the caterpillar transforming to a butterfly, but no one ever talks about the stinky ass in-between phase.
Lyme disease provided me with massive co-infections of monsterous rheumatoid arthritis, EBV, pre-diabetes, painful hormonal imbalances, rock.bottom. adrenals —- which lead to an array of other symptoms, numb limbs and face, a lymphatic system that basically died on me giving me a swollen knee and ankle for almost 6 months (and still flares up to this day). The conundrum with the lymphatic system is that it has no pump so to help it work, we need some cardio action. Well, when your body says no due to joint pain, exercise is off the plate. I finally borrowed a tiny trampoline from a dear friend and that has been helping. The funny thing is though, I can’t really jump.
After all of this time in physical pain, my brain has lost neuropathways due to living and breathing in survival mode. My brain sometimes cannot connect how to even push up on to the balls of my feet to make myself jump. And sometimes my brain doesn’t understand how to stand up or sit down.
The pain in my body has been so intense, I sometimes couldn’t brush my teeth or brush my hair, among many other things. My fatigue was off the charts; I would take a shower and it would take every ounce of me to do so. Afterwards, I would trudge back to bed with a towel around me and sleep the rest of the day.
So that’s the reality - I could go on and on. I don’t love talking about “what is” because I believe in creating a different future for my health. When we talk about what is, we just stay in the situation of….what is. It’s a dead end for anything new.
Healing is like surfing. You have to commit 100%. Not just on the days you want to and not only 99%, but 100%. Healing was asking me to change how I lived, how I ate, how I interacted, how I talked to myself, how I showed up to the world.
That does not change overnight. And most of it takes kicking and screaming.
The good news is: I see the light and what I’ve noticed is, I will default when I see the light. I mean, I will go back to old habits that are so familiar when I see the light. I’ll sometimes forget about the new patterns and lifestyle I’ve been implementing. I know I default because then the light goes away and I have another dark day. This is why when you’re almost “home” can be the most difficult part of the journey.
But I’m thankful for these signs to stay true to the course. Healing asks us to be someone better. To rise up and do the unthinkable.
I’m currently undergoing PT and it has been amazingly helpful. I’m seeing changes quickly which just goes to show that I’m ready for this show to be over.
My medicine: meditation. Healing is nothing close to a linear equation. The inconsistency is baffling and frustrating but as my inner world becomes more stable, I know I got this. My soul knows that I got this.
There’s Nothing Holding Me Back.
That will be the title of my new book. A book that has been simmering for over 2 years. It’s still in the phases of being articulated but be ready to have a fire lit under your ass.
Curated for the reader who has hit rock bottom, who can see the light, who is learning compassion, who is hanging on by a thread in their relationship, who has lost themselves 100 x over, who is still unsure, who wants it to be over, who wants it to begin, who is suicidal, who doesn’t know where to begin, how to let go, who is learning the lessons of trust, who is finding comfort in the unknown, who is afraid of love, who has thick, stubborn boundaries or no boundaries at all, who is stuck in their belief system, who is waking up to their bullshit, who is exploring the definition of surrender, who is wrestling with guilt and unworthiness, who is free but binds themselves anyway, and for those who think that what they see is real.
I have so much more to say. So I’ll see you on the inside of this book when it’s complete.
Until then, massive love to each of you for being YOU. and for being here.