Now what?

I’ve been MIA for quite a while. I didn’t intend to disappear for so long, but I’m in a life stage right now where I only have enough energy to focus on things that really need my attention. Like, S̶n̶a̶p̶c̶h̶a̶t̶ my family and laundry…. SO. MUCH. LAUNDRY. I can use my words and share my heart, but other than that, I don’t have a lot to offer. This year, much like the last few, has been fairly challenging. I’m in a perpetual state of limbo with my body which is hard in itself, and I’m an overthinker who has a hard time sitting still so it’s kind of a double whammy. I NEED things that stimulate my brains or something to focus on and that’s something I’m missing fiercely in this phase of life. I can’t lie around for days without anything to do, and that’s just my life right now. My mind is ambitious but my body just can’t hang. Well, some parts can hang, and do. Welcome to 40-year-old menopause. What a time to be alive! *Snort laughs* You’re all gonna’ be in for a real treat when I write about that! Not you, dad.

Since my last blog – I had two more surgeries. I turned 40 and had the birthday party of a lifetime. I got two more puppies. I got depression. I became one with Jamaica, twice. I got a Twitter account. My kids all grew up overnight. Months of physical therapy. 596 doctor’s appts <— *dramatic* Heartbreak. Love. Loss. Business #3 and #4. Pain. Healing. More pain. I just cannot get off the struggle bus to save my life and I want off SO BAD. I wanted off last year and the year before that too. Ugh! I’m like a bored kid in the back of the bus yelling “how much longer?!?!” “this is the longest bus ride ever!” “THIS SUCKS!” “I don’t wanna watch a movie!” “Can someone get me a snack?” If you know me personally, you can probably visualize this. Patience is not one of my strengths but since I married a patient guy, I get some of his by law, right? Whatever. I’m working on it but I’ll tell you about that later.

About two years ago I had the hardest surgery I’ve ever had and that’s saying a lot since I’ve had 25-ish surgeries. I don’t want to go into much detail, but in summary: I flew 1300 miles from home for a 6 hour, 9 procedure in one surgery. 9 days away from home followed by 4-5 months of basically bed rest. This surgery was supposed to be the “End All, Be All” surgery for me. This was my golden ticket and I had every intention of it being my last surgery. FINALLY, the end of my pain. I felt so lucky because FINALLY the end of my pain! It took me a full year to get to a point of not really normal, but somewhat functioning and then I had some setbacks. I somehow dislocated a rib while doing nothing and also ended up needing two more follow up surgeries even though I had my “End All, Be All” surgery that I still hadn’t fully recovered from. Each time I have surgery I go into it thinking “this is the one” and it never is. That’s defeating s̶o̶m̶e̶t̶i̶m̶e̶s̶. I’ve survived it all, but the toll it has taken on my body and mind is hard to put into words, even for me.

What happens when you’re in a constant state of pain and unable to do normal tasks, is your tribe rallies around you and starts taking your responsibilities from you to lighten your load; to make things easier so you can focus on recovery and healing. It’s amazing to have people that love you that much. Truly. I have the best tribe and I’m grateful for them every single day. I don’t want to minimize or take for granted a single act of kindness or helping hand, because I needed it all and would never have asked for it on my own. I am so lucky that I’m in a position to be able to focus on myself and not worry about much; I am SO terrible at it though. Being needed > Being needy. I do NOT like feeling needy in any way and when I do feel needy, it comes with a lot of apologies and for some reason, shame. Why do I feel shame and apologize for things I can’t help though? I don’t know the answer, but I didn’t choose the needy life, the needy life chose me! *I said that like the very white 40-year-old gangsta that I AM!*

What I noticed after a while is it got to a point where everyone had grown accustomed to surviving without me. I went from being involved in everything in my life, to a slow progression of being almost totally uninvolved. I went from walking 20-25 miles a week to not being able to lift a full laundry basket on my own. I was a boss and now I don’t even know half the people working for ‘me.’ Everyone else’s lives were going on like normal and I was in bed missing out and feeling like a burden. It made me really sad. I owned it the best I could, but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t weigh on me. Everyone was taking care of everything and I was just laying around getting lonelier by the day, and honestly, I was really starting to believe I had no value anymore. *depression* I was resting my body as much as I could, but my mind, I’ve discovered, is never in the mood for time off. Now would be a good time to apologize to my Snapchat friends, but who are we kidding? You’re welcome for the entertainment, homies!

I managed all my physical pain, but nothing hurt me more than losing my purpose and not being needed. I got bored and I had a lot of feelings which is a really bad combination for me. I didn’t want to focus on my pain, but I didn’t have anything else to do. I wanted to write again and connect with people somehow, but I couldn’t get myself to do it. Even though I had just become a blogger and spent all that time revamping my website, people in my real life inadvertently ruined it for me by wanting more details than I wanted to give. I felt robbed in a way but I knew people were just curious and it wasn’t intentional AT ALL. If my friends wrote stuff I’d probably ask questions too. I ask a lot of questions to people who don’t write stuff. I wanna’ know things! Blogging, which had been so cathartic for me had now turned into another thing to overthink because now I’m aware that people will ask questions I might not want to answer. It was an instant turn off. I didn’t want to share myself with people I knew anymore; I couldn’t. I didn’t know what to do with myself once all my “things” were gone and I felt like I had nothing of my own. I lost my purpose and I got depression in exchange. I’m in pain physically and now my mental state has hopped on the bus too. Ugh! Now what?

In my heavily medicated bored state of mind, I randomly decided to get a personal Twitter account. I made a lot of friends really fast and I was able to share my heart and very random thoughts with complete strangers. It was exactly what I needed at the time and I was able to distract myself from my pain by helping strangers with theirs. Win/Win. I survived Twitter for about 8 months and then I was just kind of over it because in a nutshell: it’s a lot and people lie. I’m not a fan of either. I still needed to give my thoughts a voice though and I wasn’t ready to write again so I got a private Twitter and just talk to myself. I follow no one and no one follows me. It’s basically an online diary and in one month I have tweeted myself 441 times. If that doesn’t tell you how active my brains are, I don’t know what will. I’ll tell you about that later too. I’ve learned so much from doing that.

So, now what? I don’t really know. I’m just kinda’ winging it and seeing if I can get my writing mojo back somehow while I wait to hear what’s gonna’ happen with this old bag of bones, and I feel that statement in all the ways it can be felt. I’m in the process of getting into the Mayo Clinic so in the meantime, I guess I’ll just sit impatiently on the struggle bus and yell for you guys to bring me snacks. I really like Milk Duds and chips and guacamole, but I’m not a picky man, Homer!

It’s really good to be back ~ T.