Sometimes I forget I'm broken
I know it hasn't been that long. Not even three weeks yet.
Everyone tells me that things will heal. In weeks. In months. Maybe in a year I'll look and feel like I did a few weeks ago.
The thing is, sometimes when I wake up in the morning I've forgotten I'm broken. The feeling is fleeting to be sure. But for a moment, or a few moments, I feel just like I did before Iggy. Before all of this. I feel like I can hop out of bed and throw on my scrubs and drive to work. Or my workout gear and race off to teach a Zumba class. I feel like when I smile my face will crinkle up the way it used to and my other dimple will be there. Or that when I run my fingers through my hair that's what I'll find. Hair. And not peach fuzz and a lumpy line of stitches.
Sometimes, I miss me.
I don't mean to be depressing. I know my entries are usually brimming with humor and a large helping of sarcasm. I like humor and sarcasm. They're pretty fantastic. But the path to healing is a long and winding one and I've learned (and am learning) that it's okay to take time to reflect on the hard things. The things no one really wants to talk about. Or listen to.
I, for one, am notorious for being a bottler. For avoiding those icky, painful situations.
How am I?
I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm fine!
I'm learning, though. I'm learning that perhaps there are other ways to respond.
So, yes, today I feel...reflective. Nostalgic. Melancholy.
And it's okay.
Everyone tells me that things will heal. In weeks. In months. Maybe in a year I'll look and feel like I did a few weeks ago.
The thing is, sometimes when I wake up in the morning I've forgotten I'm broken. The feeling is fleeting to be sure. But for a moment, or a few moments, I feel just like I did before Iggy. Before all of this. I feel like I can hop out of bed and throw on my scrubs and drive to work. Or my workout gear and race off to teach a Zumba class. I feel like when I smile my face will crinkle up the way it used to and my other dimple will be there. Or that when I run my fingers through my hair that's what I'll find. Hair. And not peach fuzz and a lumpy line of stitches.
Sometimes, I miss me.
I don't mean to be depressing. I know my entries are usually brimming with humor and a large helping of sarcasm. I like humor and sarcasm. They're pretty fantastic. But the path to healing is a long and winding one and I've learned (and am learning) that it's okay to take time to reflect on the hard things. The things no one really wants to talk about. Or listen to.
I, for one, am notorious for being a bottler. For avoiding those icky, painful situations.
How am I?
I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm fine!
I'm learning, though. I'm learning that perhaps there are other ways to respond.
So, yes, today I feel...reflective. Nostalgic. Melancholy.
And it's okay.
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| (Not) Fine |
aww manda don't feel sad :( your family has your back every minute of the day :) !
ReplyDeleteYou are allowed to be reflective. I think that for every bad thing that happens in a persons life there will be something good. (Ying and Yang) Everything balances out, you just have to wait out this bad stuff. Take care!! WCR
ReplyDeleteI understand you perfectly. Reflexion days will happen to me too: I will not be able to pick up my son for weeks (or months as if I have balance problem I don't want to hurt him), maybe I will not be able to play music again with my band, I will not be able to smile again properly... I'm really really scared and I understand what's happening to you. You have all the right to be a little sad and nostalgic. But remember this (no child is reading this blog so I can say it): fuck Iggy, fuck Willy (mine is Willy)... we will be able to be ourself again. And stronger. A big big hug.
ReplyDeleteThanks guys for your kind words. :) I always want to write happy, upbeat entries but I've come to realize that this blog is here to help other people and give me a space to reflect and it doesn't serve its purpose if I can do that honestly. I want everyone to know that this whole experience is a journey and, as such, it will have its ups and downs. And its okay to have a down moment and say as much.
ReplyDeleteAnd you're right, Antoinetta, we will all be much better, stronger versions of ourselves on the other side. ;)
Sorry you are going through a rough spot, Manders. Maybe it is a good sign that, at least for the moment when you wake up, you don't remember that you are still needing to recover. One of these days, in the not too distant future, it will be true! I understand it is a slow process, which I will be starting on July 3, myself. Best wishes, and please keep posting updates.
ReplyDeleteLizAN
I love this. It's real and genuine. And that's how we should be.
ReplyDeleteYes it is ok, and guess what that's how I feel today 10 weeks in ! It's part of the healing process - what do you have to aim for if it's not to be "normal" again ? It's so interesting to learn how vulnerable we can be - take care of you :)
ReplyDeleteLotty