It has been a long time since I have written. Since October 2019 to be exact. My life was already in a tailspin when 2020 completely upended it. There was a lot of “bad” going on, for lack of a better word. I would like to say that I came out the other end unscathed, but that’s not the case. I’m not the same person that I was in October 2019, the last time that I wrote. And do you know what? I’m ok with that. I have lost so much, but the things that I gained are invaluable to me. My sense of self has returned. I found…..well, me.
Before the disaster that was 2020 hit, I was already down for the count. I had focused so much on other people in my personal and professional life, that I lost myself. When your conscious mind refuses to acknowledge that you have had enough, your subconscious mind and body just take over.
I got out of bed one morning and I fell. The world was spinning out of control around me. I was confused, scared, and even defiant. I was so used to just getting up and getting through each day no matter what. My body was saying “Enough, you need to slow down now.” I tried to get up again and again and finally made it to my bathroom holding on to things along the way. I told myself it was nothing, and there was way too much to do to even think about being unwell. Even now, I don’t know how I made it through that day. I told no one. I suffered in silence like many women do. I did however imagine a larger than life brain tumor growing by the second inside of my head. I made it to bedtime and told myself to just go to sleep and I would feel better tomorrow.
Tomorrow came and to my dismay, I was worse. I finally admitted to a co-worker/ dear friend how I was feeling. She made me realize that it wasn’t something I could ignore as much as I wanted to. Oh, and did I mention that I had a flight that day for a weekend family trip? I couldn’t fathom disappointing my family. So, I went to an urgent care. The prognosis was vertigo. I gave the Dr. my spiel about the weekend and she gave me medicine to get through. Also, she told me it should get better in a few days. I literally stumbled out of the clinic still unable to accept that I needed to just stop everything. Again I told no one. I got on that plane a few hours later and once we were in the air unable to turn back, I told my mother. She was furious of course that I didn’t tell her and that I didn’t cancel the trip. It was one of the most difficult weekends of my life. I pretended that I was alright, or at least made it seem like it wasn’t that bad. That trip set me back about 2 months. When I got back, my body basically crashed. All I remember is going to Dr. after Dr. for tests and treatments. Them sitting in my recliner unable to do anything. God or the universe, or whatever powers you believe in, had been sending me signs that I ignored until finally I got a sign that I couldn’t ignore. My life stopped for what seemed like forever. I spent everyday trying to heal myself and basically get through the day. Then, just like everything had stopped, something incredible started…