There's an expression; the blood we spilled was never beautiful, it was just red. The girl that died last month from cancer, in a cancerous time in our lives and world, makes me think of high school. The grey wasteland of Connecticut, the sad looks on people's faces as I tried to overcome my own discomfort with myself.
Perhaps we always come back to high school; our memories of when we were growing up prominent in who we are today. But I don't think that's true for me. I suffered too much; I had nothing to say then and I have nothing to say about it now.
When we go through high school, perhaps we are growing up. But high school is it's own battlefield, a social onslaught, the crushing realization that not only are we not getting into our dream college, but that we're never going to be who we were told we could be. We lay down our weapons, and perhaps my mistake was declaring war on myself.
This is all very nonchalant. But perhaps it is necessary to deconstruct the wounds war leaves behind.
But, I learned that I am competitive. I wanted to get into Middlebury. I never did. But I had that dream. And that passionate desire to overcome my past. My senior year of high school is only the tip of the iceberg of my last decade, but maybe the battlefield had it's small wins, too. I am better for having overcome myself as I was.
Night into Day? Night into Day!
Ode to impossible, impossibly long,
How did you do it? Make me become strong?
Why the assignation? What is the real deal?
How was I to know that this would congeal?
Is that the sun rising? Did I get a glance?
Where did the night go? I worked THROUGH, perchance?
After we submitted, mine alone stood tall.
I ask doubtfully, was it worth it all?
(... yes ...)
It wouldn’t happen to me.
I stood there, full of nerves, shaking & sweating
In my head I was telling myself to be calm, I had my wedding dress on, my hair done, even make up
Dad stood beside me, my rock in life, he wiped a tear, he told how proud he was that I was, well me
I shut my eyes to gather myself, then I heard the music, her music, to start the walk down the isle
I heard a familiar tune, no song in my head, this was not part of this, why, where
I suddenly jerked awake, my phone, ringing so loudl, I knew who it was
The ICU doctor gave me his name, I asked him to wait just 5 seconds, I took a deep breath, shook my head & tried to wake up
Doctor, how are you I asked in my half asleep stupor
You need to come now, that's what I remember the doctor saying, you need to come now, we don't know
I knew what they were saying, my wife, our daughters Mama was unlikely to make it through till morning
I drove down far too quick, being thankful my best friend was staying & she could watch our beautiful girl
So many things go through your head when this happens, I mean this doesn't happen to good people
As I lay my weary head back down in bed some 30 hours later, I was grateful, she made it, she pulled through
Right now I needed rest, & my daughter needed cuddles
Six months later I am driving to the rehab hospital, a daily 70 minute drive, I don't mind, I enjoy the rare time alone
The doctors keep telling us she may be able to talk again, may be able to walk, but I see it in there eyes, they don't believe it
I am doubtful, there is no movement returning, no speech
I am right, I wish I wasn't, 18 months later nothing has changed, my heart is broken, I am deep in trauma, how did this happen from a 30 minute surgery?
Our daughter has been diagnosed with PTSD, anxiety being the biggest issue
I can see the moment, she is having a anxiety attack about me going out to a psychiatrist appointment
She can't come, but she wants to, needs to make sure I am ok
I make the decision to be stronger, be a pillar for our girl, be an example
Its this that is my great out of bad, I found strength I didn't know I had, resilIance that kept me going
I had no concept of how strong & resilienant we can be, how we manage.
Now our daughter is happy, laughing. Cheerful & no anxiety.
2019 - the year everything changed.
so although everyone might remember this as the last good year before the pandemic, I however went through the toughest years of my life. Not only did I lose my Bursary, ended up in a lot of debt...I was also a victim of Gender Based Violence. My father whome I loved dearly as a little girl had grown distant as I grew older. Our arguments were like flames until it turned to violence. I ended up packing my stuff and leaving home and moving in with my fiance.
Broke off all contact with my family, changed my number and battled depression and anxiety. Had a couple of mental break down. After some months, when I felt ready, I contacted my parents.
Two years later and my relationship with my dad is better then ever, I regained my faith in God and started seeing the blessings all around. I finally realised that my situation could have been a lot worse then what it turned out to be...
So each day I wake up I count my blessings as a reminder.