These days I spend so much time on the computer for work, that it takes extra effort to find the motivation to stay on it to update my personal blog. I have felt the need to post about my 1 year anniversary from back surgery for quite a while – but haven’t been in the right place emotionally do it.
You see, I don’t look back – I blaze forward. In life I take the hits, try to process what happened, quickly pick myself up, and if necessary change course. I’m not sentimental, I don’t keep memento’s, and I let go of things and people who bring me down.
Typically, I don’t look back.
I think the reason is because it’s flat out too hard to do so. This morning, I was trying to get through my insanely full inbox of e-mail when I read one from my sister, Lisa. She’s finally posting about her latest journey {{whoohoo!!}} and at the end linked to her post when she came up to help take care of my family when I ruptured a disc in my back. In that post she quoted a Jason Maraz song and gave me the best compliment that she’s ever given me, “You’re an island of reality in an ocean of diarrhea”. That’s so like Lisa! {{giggle}}
As I reread her post, it brought tears to my eyes remembering the extreme pain and emotional trauma I experienced during those 6 weeks prior to my surgery. And then afterward, the 8 weeks of physical therapy and rehabilitation I spent trying to heal the atrophy in my left leg.
The week of Thanksgiving (one year since the rupture) I purged my feelings onto paper. Below is what I wrote:
“Next week will mark the one year anniversary of the ruptured disc in my back. This time last year I had great momentum with Tip Junkie as I felt like I had hit my stride and doing some unique and cool things. The quality, popularity, and influence was at an all time high and I had found a “balance” (if there is such a thing) between work, life, and play.
I was also preparing for our first multi-family vacation where several of other families from our church were planning a weekend in the mountains. Growing up my family didn’t travel. Not even to see relatives. It just wasn’t ever an option. So this event was so exciting for me on many levels. Personally, I felt like I had achieved many goals and felt very grateful.
How our minds protect us from trauma is such an interesting phenomenon. A year ago, I had no idea the trauma my body would have to endure. In all honesty, I feel like I should be over it by now. That I shouldn’t talk about it anymore and that it should no longer consume my thoughts or effect my psyche. I feel guilty when I struggle with my achy body or complain (in my head) about feeling like an old woman when I wake up every morning. I struggle with really identifying the lessons I was supposed to learn and try so hard to keep those in the forefront of my thoughts instead of regret and wishing life was back to normal.
I didn’t realize it until recently – that I’ve been on auto pilot with life. Nothing has inspired me, nothing has ignited my creativity, and my drive and passion has been lost. It’s a miserable existence to live day to day – minute to minute. I was in survival mode and not planning for or being excited about the future.
For me, that happens when I’m holding something back, pushing my potential down, or not allowing myself to pursue my passions. Preparing for SITScation (in October) and not wanting to disappoint Tiffany & Heather and their guests; awakened me in so many ways.
I had to put down in writing my mission and vision for Tip Junkie. Thereby defining what I really wanted to accomplish. I had to put on paper what I know that others may not. Which baffled me since I’ve never been categorized a “smart” person. Seriously. Cute – sure. Positive – yep. Stubborn – hell yes. Smart – not so much. However, I’ve always felt like I have more to give.
Then it hit me – what do I know a lot about? Struggle, trial, adversity. So I focused my speech and my message to what I live by every day. “Create Your Own Experience”.
I will never be able to truly express the degree of trauma or the dark places I went while my sciatic nerve was being pinched and swollen and irritated for 6 weeks. Which caused constant pain that even high doses of pain pills couldn’t relive. I will never be able to comprehend what it did to my family to see me endure such agony, as I lost my ability to stand up straight or walk. And then to watch the light in my eyes go out as I lost myself all over again.
Sometimes defining moments are not moments – they are months or years. I know that I shouldn’t be ashamed of still struggling; but I am. My 34 year old body is weak and exhausted with the daily struggle of waking up every morning feeling old and decayed.
Next week marks one year since taking my body for granted. I have learned much, become grateful for much, humbled over and over again. I guess the one thing that is a recurring theme in my life is adapting to trauma and creating a better experience from it. (Every one of us can relate.) Maybe I needed the experience if just to know that I can live through it.”
I now see life very differently. I’m no longer dreaming and planning for the future but and trying to accept reality and live in it. My perspective on life as a whole has completely changed. My purpose in life is steadily coming into fruition and I’m trying to accept that responsibility. I am not the person I was, November 2008. It’s a shame because I really liked her. However, I realize now that I had to break in order to become whole.
It’s time to change course and blaze forward.
