I made the decision last summer to devote myself to… myself.
To my health. Mental and physical.
Like everyone I have trauma and loss, and at 45 these things have piled up and I refuse to let them swallow me whole.
So I made a promise to myself to take an active part in healing my mental and physical health. It’s funny, I feel like while I’m wildly independent, I have been a passenger in my own life for decades. Letting what happens define me, mold me, teach me… but I haven’t been the leader here, I’ve been the follower of my circumstances.
In January I had surgery.
I took my unfortunate genetics into my own hands after battling my weight for most of my adolescent and adult life. It was the best decision I have ever made for myself.
I showed up for me.
I fought for me.
And 3 months later I feel more me than I think I have in 25 years.
Go me.
Early April I went in for my yearly Mammogram. If you know me personally, you know my mom lost her battle to breast cancer at 50 years old after a long hard fought 5 years. What that means in the breast cancer world is that I am high risk and have been getting yearly mammograms since I was 36. So basically I’m a pro at this point.
I got the call back- “we see some irregular calcifications, we want more imaging”
Crap.
No, ok… I got this. Fear of this day will not eat me alive. I’m strong, brave, and fearless (mostly).
I went in for my second imaging. After approximately one million images the doctor came in. “I’m recommending a biopsy. You’re high risk and we don’t want to take chances. I’m also referring you to the Breast Cancer Center for all future imaging as well as yearly MRI’s”
Brave.
Fearless.
I will not break over this.
Yesterday I went in for a biopsy which was very far from what I had anticipated it would be.
Emotionally, it was traumatic. And this is not the fault of the incredible women who took care of me all morning, because they were kind and gentle and talked me through every single step. It actually didn’t even hurt that much.
The trauma lies with my past, and it keeps threatening to take me down.
After all the collections were done in both sites on one side, they patched me up, glued me together, and said 3-4 business days I would have results.
So here I sit in these emotions…
Not feeling brave or fearless… but trying like hell to cling to the stubbornness that runs through my familial veins.
I have no idea what is going to happen, which is my least favorite place to be. I’m a control freak, I have plans A-Z lined up for every facet of my life. I don’t like to live in the unknown, does anyone??
Thankfully through the last year with my incredible therapist, I have worked on sitting with things. We’re breaking down my advanced compartmentalization way of not coping, and teaching me to feel things as they come. I’ll be honest, this isn’t my favorite thing to do. I have more important things in life to spend my time thinking about, right?
No.
I made a promise to myself.
Mental and physical health, we face each thing as they come.
No more boxes filled with trauma that threaten to burst open when more than one thing hits me at once reminding me of a past that tried to eat me alive. No more secret closets with my true feelings and emotions packed away, waiting for the right time.
Nervous.
Anxious.
But still brave… and waiting.
Who knew self devotion could be so hard?
Here’s to driving my own bus, and not being a passenger in this life. Tomorrow is never promised, make today beautiful.
