I am still unsure if I will share this blog post with you dear readers. If you are reading this then it means after much prayer, and quiet time I have made my decision. As I have stated before, I write to heal. My prayer is and has always been, that in my stories God will help heal what hurts you. I am very passionate about sharing my journey. I pray my words might help shed some light on your path. Not to be "like" me, or have any sense of admiration, but know you are not alone. No matter how scarred, bruised, or hopeless you feel there is a God who loves you more than any words or actions can express.
Writing this now many emotions sweep over my soul. The emotional bruises have faded, and stitches are healing, but there is an ache that reminds me of the things I have wanted to forget. I remember the exact moment. I didn't know it would hit so hard. I now understand that our brains try to help protect us, shelter us from the storm that is coming. Mine had been raging inside for quite sometime. Even now, my hands shake and my heart races. I have to remind myself to breath and that I am safe.
Ever since I can remember I have taken care of others before myself. Never allowing myself to feel anything but hate for myself. Someone one always had it worse was my motto. What I was "feeling" didn't matter and therefore not worth expressing. Besides, who would listen? Even God had better things to do. This was my thought process.
This August it will be one year since my breakdown. Yes, you read that correctly, breakdown. My brain had had enough, and couldn't take one more second of holding back this dam of emotions I had stuffed it so full of. Here's what last summer look for for me. My youngest had what we thought was a just a cyst removed off his back. Turns out it was a tumor, not cancerous, but so rare that the doctor said in 25 years of being a doctor she had never seen one. OKaaay, so, not cancerous so good right? No so easy, apparently these tumors only grow in clusters and like to grow in, and around the heart, causing many issues for the person. It is related to a genetic disorder called Carney Complex. First step, get heart ultra sound scheduled, then genetic testing. Then the same child had some medial issues downstairs, and two holes in ear drums that needed a 5 hour surgery to repair. At the same time my doctor had found a lump in my breast and wanted me to get a mammogram stat. During a routine dentist appointment the X-ray showed what the thought was a tumor in my oldest gum line. As if that weren't enough my mother was going into her 3rd open heart surgery. Her first one they had nicked an artery, and she almost died. Praise God an amazing nurse, after much nagging, convinced the doctor something was wrong.
A lot for anyone right. Now how about someone who doesn't allow herself to feel, or process, just gets it all done like checking off a list. Saying I was overwhelmed is an understatement. In fact the same day as my moms surgery, I went straight from my youngest doctors appointment to the hospital to wait with my sisters. It got so bad the my youngest who was 10 at the time would cry saying he was so tired of doctors everytime we got in the car. There was no time to process any of this even if I wanted to. So, . . . .my brain broke.
I remember vaguely saying to my husband, "I think I'm going to shut down for a little bit." There were no tears just as if there was a knowing, a sensing of impending doom. And I did. I shut down. I stopped smiling, I didn't talk very much. I couldn't think of simple words to say when speaking. I simply existed without living. It was as if I was living inside my head. The world seemed unhappy and unsafe. My laughter was gone. I felt nothing. I heard nothing. I was nothing.
I now know that my brain knew this was all such a heavy load to carry, and I didn't have to tools to know what to do. So it stopped. This lasted for about two weeks. In those two weeks I still went to all the doctor appointments. I still made dinner for my family every night. To those outside looking in you wouldn't have seen a difference. Only those who truly knew me knew. After the second week my husband made a joke and I smiled. He looked at me and said, "I'm glad you are coming back. If this kept on i was going to take you to the doctors. I was getting really worried." I was surprised, I thought ok, I know I'm not the same bit I'm handling it, just a little more quiet. Now when we talk about those times he shares how worried he was, and how hopeless he felt watching me just exist. His joyful wife that he has known for 16 years was acting like a zombie. Just in writing that down make me cry. Because I know how much my husband loves me, and to watch someone you love go through this and not know what to do stabs at my heart.
So desperate to figure out what to do, and out of answers, I called a therapist and made an appointment. It had been encouraged by a friend of mine off and on for 2 years, I rejected each time saying I didn't need anyone. Out of options, only that road was in front of me.
Through my first year of therapy I have learned that I really, I mean really, hated myself. I also realized that I have taken a lot of bullets for people in my past, and yet never took time to repair the damage they caused. I learned that I didn't allow myself to feel because there was so much hurt in my past, I was fearful I would feel it again. I have learned that for every hard thing I get through in therapy I am a little bit stronger. I learned it is ok to mourn losses of relationships, good or bad. Lastly, that it's ok to take time to heal.
So, medically, . . . my youngest just had his ear surgery, and healing wonderfully. No tumors in heart. Still have to get genetic testing done. My oldest, we are still watching the gum line, but think it probably is fine, might just be a piece of a tooth. My mammogram came back wonderfully. And My mother just celebrated her 1 year anniversary of her surgery. She's doing great!
I know now that my story is not over. I know God has given me this mission in life to love others, He just had to help me learn how to love myself. I'd like to thank my Savior for His perfect timing, and helping me with the words to write this out. For teaching me to forgive and keep shinning.
Thank you friends who helped have helped hold my hand through this journey.
S.S., S.L., L.L., N.H.
You know who you are.
And to my Sarapy, thank you for untangling the mess that was Devonne. All my love.
Writing this now many emotions sweep over my soul. The emotional bruises have faded, and stitches are healing, but there is an ache that reminds me of the things I have wanted to forget. I remember the exact moment. I didn't know it would hit so hard. I now understand that our brains try to help protect us, shelter us from the storm that is coming. Mine had been raging inside for quite sometime. Even now, my hands shake and my heart races. I have to remind myself to breath and that I am safe.
Ever since I can remember I have taken care of others before myself. Never allowing myself to feel anything but hate for myself. Someone one always had it worse was my motto. What I was "feeling" didn't matter and therefore not worth expressing. Besides, who would listen? Even God had better things to do. This was my thought process.
This August it will be one year since my breakdown. Yes, you read that correctly, breakdown. My brain had had enough, and couldn't take one more second of holding back this dam of emotions I had stuffed it so full of. Here's what last summer look for for me. My youngest had what we thought was a just a cyst removed off his back. Turns out it was a tumor, not cancerous, but so rare that the doctor said in 25 years of being a doctor she had never seen one. OKaaay, so, not cancerous so good right? No so easy, apparently these tumors only grow in clusters and like to grow in, and around the heart, causing many issues for the person. It is related to a genetic disorder called Carney Complex. First step, get heart ultra sound scheduled, then genetic testing. Then the same child had some medial issues downstairs, and two holes in ear drums that needed a 5 hour surgery to repair. At the same time my doctor had found a lump in my breast and wanted me to get a mammogram stat. During a routine dentist appointment the X-ray showed what the thought was a tumor in my oldest gum line. As if that weren't enough my mother was going into her 3rd open heart surgery. Her first one they had nicked an artery, and she almost died. Praise God an amazing nurse, after much nagging, convinced the doctor something was wrong.
A lot for anyone right. Now how about someone who doesn't allow herself to feel, or process, just gets it all done like checking off a list. Saying I was overwhelmed is an understatement. In fact the same day as my moms surgery, I went straight from my youngest doctors appointment to the hospital to wait with my sisters. It got so bad the my youngest who was 10 at the time would cry saying he was so tired of doctors everytime we got in the car. There was no time to process any of this even if I wanted to. So, . . . .my brain broke.
I remember vaguely saying to my husband, "I think I'm going to shut down for a little bit." There were no tears just as if there was a knowing, a sensing of impending doom. And I did. I shut down. I stopped smiling, I didn't talk very much. I couldn't think of simple words to say when speaking. I simply existed without living. It was as if I was living inside my head. The world seemed unhappy and unsafe. My laughter was gone. I felt nothing. I heard nothing. I was nothing.
I now know that my brain knew this was all such a heavy load to carry, and I didn't have to tools to know what to do. So it stopped. This lasted for about two weeks. In those two weeks I still went to all the doctor appointments. I still made dinner for my family every night. To those outside looking in you wouldn't have seen a difference. Only those who truly knew me knew. After the second week my husband made a joke and I smiled. He looked at me and said, "I'm glad you are coming back. If this kept on i was going to take you to the doctors. I was getting really worried." I was surprised, I thought ok, I know I'm not the same bit I'm handling it, just a little more quiet. Now when we talk about those times he shares how worried he was, and how hopeless he felt watching me just exist. His joyful wife that he has known for 16 years was acting like a zombie. Just in writing that down make me cry. Because I know how much my husband loves me, and to watch someone you love go through this and not know what to do stabs at my heart.
So desperate to figure out what to do, and out of answers, I called a therapist and made an appointment. It had been encouraged by a friend of mine off and on for 2 years, I rejected each time saying I didn't need anyone. Out of options, only that road was in front of me.
Through my first year of therapy I have learned that I really, I mean really, hated myself. I also realized that I have taken a lot of bullets for people in my past, and yet never took time to repair the damage they caused. I learned that I didn't allow myself to feel because there was so much hurt in my past, I was fearful I would feel it again. I have learned that for every hard thing I get through in therapy I am a little bit stronger. I learned it is ok to mourn losses of relationships, good or bad. Lastly, that it's ok to take time to heal.
So, medically, . . . my youngest just had his ear surgery, and healing wonderfully. No tumors in heart. Still have to get genetic testing done. My oldest, we are still watching the gum line, but think it probably is fine, might just be a piece of a tooth. My mammogram came back wonderfully. And My mother just celebrated her 1 year anniversary of her surgery. She's doing great!
I know now that my story is not over. I know God has given me this mission in life to love others, He just had to help me learn how to love myself. I'd like to thank my Savior for His perfect timing, and helping me with the words to write this out. For teaching me to forgive and keep shinning.
Thank you friends who helped have helped hold my hand through this journey.
S.S., S.L., L.L., N.H.
You know who you are.
And to my Sarapy, thank you for untangling the mess that was Devonne. All my love.
