A Choice to Be…

I recently shared with my therapist that I wished I had a photo of myself from my first session with her so that I could compare it with myself now. I know that I did not get here overnight and I certainly didn’t get here without a lot of help and support. I also don’t want to sell myself short… I’ve worked hard, really hard.  I spent many a night pouring out my soul in blog posts. My mind alone raced more than a marathon runner.

I still have bad days. Sometimes, really bad days – days where I still feel an incredible emptiness inside. There are still sleepless nights and sometimes nightmares. At my last acupuncture appointment I said, “I’m really having a hard time right now, and I’m counting on you and everyone else to keep me together.” I’m not quite sure what I wanted him to do, but I relished in the fact that I could say out loud that I needed help; something that for so many years I held in confidence due to pride.   You should know that both my acupuncturist and my massage therapist play jedi-mind tricks –they seem to know where and when I’m hurting, both physically and emotionally, and it always makes me laugh when they ask a question that I’m sure they already know the answer to.

After my most recent post people asked questions about what I had done or was doing. So much of it now is a part of who I am that it’s hard for me to remember all the subtle changes over time. Hence me wishing that I had that picture of the first day “on the couch.”  After some searching I was able to find a photo of myself from August 2014. It was a staff photo, so it was one in which I made a conscience effort to do my makeup, hair, and wardrobe. And on my birthday, I had snapped a selfie of myself – August 2017.  I was able to place them side by side and see just how much had changed in three years.

Putting the weight-loss aside, there is something different about my eyes, my skin-tone, my smile. In the former, I looked sickly and pale and if anyone cared to look in my eyes, they would have seen right to my soul.  And when I looked at my birthday picture… of me… on my 47th (!)  birthday, there is light in my eyes and color in my cheeks, and my smile seems brighter.  Yes, bad days still happen, but man, there are so many more good days now.

It was just one simple thing – one choice that started it all. And over time, that one simple thing has changed and evolved. What once started as just remembering to exhale, to not concentrate on replaying the events with M, or trying to define what happened, is now choosing to make sure I have a healthful diet, choosing to be truly thankful and grateful for this life I have been given, and to unashamedly accept a face full of doggy kisses upon demand.

So I guess I would ask those of you that asked me what I am doing…. “what are YOU willing to do for you?”  Just start with one choice– make it real, make it your own.  Sometimes, it’s just enough to get out of bed and call that success. Or it might be remembering that what you eat in secret, you wear in public- so choose to make a better food choice. It might be embracing what my pastor’s wife taught me all those years ago, No Thank You is a complete sentence. It might be capturing that negative thought and choosing to give it to the Lord. And it might be just remembering to take your vitamins.

What do I do?  I work at it and I remember that it didn’t happen overnight.  I make a million little choices each day. I choose to remember what C reminded me, that I am worth it. But on the bigger scale, I choose to still faithfully take my Juice Plus, I choose to speak life to myself each morning, I choose to treat myself kindly with services that help my overall well-being, and I choose to remember that one day I just might wake up with only the things I thanked God for yesterday… and for that reason, I’m always thankful for those in my life that have carried me this far.

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What a Difference A(nother) Year Makes

 I realize I could start by apologizing for not writing but who would I be apologizing to? Myself? Maybe? But then I would remind myself that this year has been one of no apologies, and no excuses.

Three years ago, my husband of eleven years was telling me that he had an affair, that he didn’t love me and that he didn’t care to reconcile or even consider our marriage. Two years ago, I was counting every single day -still trying to accept what had happened. One year ago, the stress of all that I had gone through for so long took its toll on me physically and I was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis.   August 1 will come again and like cobwebs, his last words still cling to me. Even though M has been gone for almost 3 years, I still feel tangled in his lies. I make no apologies for feeling this way. I own my own inadequacies, I also embrace them. I have been able to move on and move forward and I have new dates that hold special memories for me now.

Over the past year, I have spent more money than I should admit to on concert tickets. After M left, one of the first things I did was go to see Ed Sheeran in concert. In Atlanta. Alone. And it hasn’t stopped since. Just this past year I’ve seen Matisyahu, The Steel Wheels, The Swinging Medallions, Mercy Me, The Air Force’s Airmen of Note, Apollo’s Fire, The Sensational Sounds of Motown w/ Mr. Motown himself, New Kids on the Block – even got to touch Joey McIntyre (squeal), Paula Abdul, Boys II Men, and before the year is over, I’ll see Crowder, Ed Sheeran, see Jonathon Byrd perform at a local coffee shop  and spend Christmas with the Oak Ridge Boys.

I helped pick our city’s best taco. I rode in an Uber that had eyelashes over its headlights. I took time off to attend our local TEDx talks. I enrolled in a leadership course at work, which opened my eyes to my own failings but also to strengths I didn’t realize I possessed. I took computer design courses and I’m embracing my newly created job position.

I still, unapologetically, get monthly massages, regular pedicures, manicures, acupuncture, and reflexology treatments. I remind my co-workers and anyone else that will listen, that self-care is too often neglected and that we all need to be kinder to ourselves. I, the most unlikely person for this task, led a team of 10 for six weeks on a fitness/wellness challenge where we placed #20 out of over 200 teams. I have maintained my plant-based nutrition program with just a couple of days where I could have made better choices, and did so the next time around. I’ve lost 65 pounds, which means that shopping for clothes has been more fun and I’ve got a closet full of new clothes. I met with the neurologist for my twelve month check-up and his comment to me was “If I didn’t know you had MS, I wouldn’t have any clue now” and he is starting to come around to my desire to manage my symptoms with nutrition and self-care even suggesting I look into the new research involving biotin. I went through my storage unit, yes, “the” storage unit. I opened every box and tossed, donated, sold, and sorted everything left from a life that was no longer. And I survived, much better than I expected I would, and it feels good. I still go to “Mental Yoga” and again, I tell everyone I know that we all need professional help sometimes.

I’ve been “published.” A local art council accepted a poem I had written not long after M had passed, and they hung it on the wall for the public to see –I was raw, and exposed, and liberated all at the same time. I joined a newly formed poetry group and am serving as their inaugural president.  I started taking ballroom dance lessons after telling myself that if I’m going to start dating again, I need to know how to dance like a lady and not be “dropping it like it’s hot” anymore. I’ve got to leave a little something for my future husband to look forward to. Yup, that’s a new one too. I’ve decided that there is still so much more within me, so much more love I can share and I do want to get married again. I’m not going to lie; dating is different than when I was last out there. But I know what I bring to the table, I’m not afraid to be by myself and if a guy can keep up with all that I’ve got going on, I hope he introduces himself.

I’ve also attended too many memorials and funerals and have said goodbye to friends who left this earth way too soon. And I’ve said goodbye to a couple of friendships. Life isn’t fair, period.

But I will rise up each morning because although life isn’t fair, the fight within me is far from gone. I’ve learned that to heal your body, you have to heal your mind, and to heal your mind, you have to heal your spirit, and to heal your spirit, you need Jesus.  Just because M is gone doesn’t mean he’s not “here.” I accept that he will always be a part of my life, even if it’s just a momentary look back every August 1.

And I know without a doubt that one thing is for certain. I now live in the present, embracing life for what it is at this very second, because I want to live as if this isn’t just a moment, but rather a memory.