When Life is Too Much
A few weeks ago, I woke up one morning thinking it would be just another typical morning - slow, with deep breaths and getting grounded in my body. I’d make a good breakfast with lots of protein, sip on a cup of green tea or coffee, and then maybe go for a little walk before getting into work and whatever else my schedule entailed.
But this morning was different. From the moment I woke up, old debilitating symptoms plagued my body and brain. I found myself cross-eyed, having trouble controlling the movement of my tongue, hands, and limbs, and experiencing extreme nerve pain.
I went downstairs to my mini “pharmacy” where I thought surely I could find some supplements and remedies to ease these symptoms that were flaring back up. They didn’t. As the days passed, they only worsened.
Questions started swirling in my mind. “Was it what I ate?” “Did my fall I had while rollerskating contribute to this?” “How long is this going to last?” “When am I ever going to fully beat this?” “Will I be able to start my new job next week?”
Every day got harder and harder. Then the left side of my face and hand started to go numb. Then I couldn’t get out of bed. Within a matter of a couple of weeks, my life felt like it had flipped upside down. I hit my breaking point.
To regain your health after fighting so hard the majority of your life to get it back… and then to feel like you’re back at ground zero literally overnight is probably one of the hardest things I’ve had to go through mentally. It’s like you want to move your body and use your brain so badly, and neither of them is complying. It’s an invisible battle. I don’t know what I would do without my friends who understand this battle.
I came to the conclusion that I needed a lot more help medically. I talked on the phone with some people and learned about a specific hospital in Chicago that had an awesome neurology team. I trusted my intuition and bought a one-way ticket to Chicago.
From the moment I got to the hospital to now, I’ve felt very cared for. Everyone has been so kind. I’m still waiting on some test results. So far, I’ve learned that they found a small aneurysm in my brain. I’m so grateful to have learned this information and that they found it.
When you’re in the middle of some really tough shit, acceptance can feel impossible. It can feel impossible to surrender. To not only say but to embody the words:
“I accept my life just as it is.”
“I accept that you God are the only One who’s going to get me to the other side.”
It’s tough to get there. But I think that acceptance and surrender unlock new possibilities.
I have no idea what my next steps are. I don’t know how long I’ll be in this hospital bed. I don’t know the answers yet to why I’m having all these neurological symptoms. But, as the days move on, there is a deeper gratitude being cultivated in my heart for things I sometimes take for granted.
Like the way my friends care about me. Like the way my baby niece, Emma, laughs. Like eating food. Like walking. Like the way Jesus kneels down in front of me while I’m balling my eyes out during my flight, wiping my tears, looking me in the eyes, offering me comfort, and saying “Hey, I know this has all been awful. Let’s not sugarcoat this. I know this is devastating. I know it’s scary. And, it is not your job to fix any of it. Everything that’s still broken you don’t have to pretend like it isn’t nor do you have to have anything together. You can take a break. You’re allowed to have no idea what you’re doing. You can question things. You can change your mind. And remember, whenever you have hit rock bottom in the past, that’s when I’ve come through the strongest. That’s when the greatest things in your life have happened.”
My recovery may feel brutal right now, but maybe coming back to this place physically is actually what I needed in order to heal unresolved trauma. Maybe being reminded of how much pain I used to be in is giving me more love and empathy for the younger me - and as I move on with my life, I can honor past versions of myself more. I can look at her with so much love and pride for how she endured all that she did.
One of the biggest things I’ve been reminded of during this time is the importance of the simple things. The simple texts like “Hey how has your day been?” Starting a conversation with a stranger. Letting your guard down and crying in front of someone you trust. Calling someone you care about and laughing with them. Hugs. Saying nice things. Here are some of my favorite things my friends have said to me lately:
“You are amazing. We have a lot of respect for how you’re handling this.”
“Can I Uber Eats you something?”
“Can I come see you?”
“I can’t imagine how overwhelming this must be.”
“You are so dearly loved.”
“I’m sure it feels so hard mentally. To go through all that for so long and be at this place would be so incredibly hard and frustrating.”
”Gracious words are a honeycomb, sweet to the soul and healing to the bones" -Proverbs 16:24
Sometimes life IS too much. Sometimes you have to merely sit in that. Sometimes you have to slow down and take life moment by moment. But, little by little, clarity begins to peak through the trees like glimmers of glorious light. Little by little, you begin to feel hope again. Little by little, you catch your breath again. Little by little, you go through another layer of healing you didn’t know you needed.
Thank you to so many of you who have been a loving support to me during this time. ❤️
