A lot of people have been attempting to gently push me back into a life full of activity. They want me to sing. They want me to go out. They want me to sing. It’s wild! I think people worry that I am sitting at home being miserable all of the time. Really, it is only “a lot” of the time that I sit around being miserable. The times when I feel OK or better, I am doing my best to live it up.
I practice ukulele to help keep my fingers limber (although it hurts after ten minutes). I swim and enjoy our pool (but then I have to take a nap because I am worn out). I go to the gym (then spend an hour stretching so I can move in the morning). I stretch in the morning (so I can move for most of the day). I drink coffee (sometimes I have to actually brew it myself). I devise methods for hanging up my clothes.
Doesn’t this sound like the life?! What makes it difficult is that I used to be able to do all of these activities and a whole lot more. It has taken over a year of behavioural therapy and psychiatry and music therapy to just feel ok enough to allow myself to rest when I KNOW I could be more productive. I just can’t push myself the way I used to.
At this point I don’t think that I want to anymore. I have spent 20 years working and adulting so I could have something to show for my efforts at this point in life. Everything I gained is inside of me except for my daughter. I have gained (some) wisdom from my foolishness. I have acquired (some) knowledge from my adventures. I have more insight due to my failures. I have grown internally like a weed on steroids and protein powder.
Yet, I am human, and I wish I had been able to buy a house or keep my car or any number of things. Now, I ask myself if I would have had time to enjoy it anyway? I was a workaholic. I would have passed out exhausted every night in a beautiful bed that I never had time to admire. I just wanted a normal life.
Now I realize that “normal” is just what happens all the time. Right now my life is completely normal FOR ME! The key was to discover what I felt the word ‘normal’ meant. I thought it meant what everyone else does, but we all do different things, so that isn’t an accurate description. Now I think of ‘normal’ as the usual routine. When the routine changes, we end up with a ‘new normal’ and I think that is a healthier way for me to look at the world. It is important for each of us to define our own goals and learn how to acquire the tools to reach those goals.
I get a little discouraged because I don’t have any type of idea how my life will change over the next year or so. I am waiting to be tested so I know if my neurologists suspicions are true or not. I am waiting for my disability hearing. I am waiting for the ability to make an informed decision about my life and sometimes the hardest thing to do is wait. While I wait I try to keep myself busy with the things listed above. I hope that doing them everyday helps me regain stamina and energy, but even the results of that will take some time to manifest.
Hopefully I have enough years ahead of me to find what it is I need to feel like my life has a fulfilling purpose. Maybe I just am not old enough yet and all the pieces are not in place. It will all happen when it is time for it to happen, not when someone pushes me into doing it.
I doubt that I am the only person who is going through this and my wish for everyone out there who sees this is that you learn to listen to your own mind, heart, and body. Learn what is right for you and not for other people. You are more than capable of making your own decisions and asking people to abide by them. You have the ability to cut negative people out of your life. You have the ability to change paths. You might have to clear a new path or climb a tree, but you will amaze yourself continually along the journey.
If you are reading this and wondering if I am for serious…YES! I AM FOR SERIOUS!! So serious I am using poor grammar. While I (and many other people out there) look healthy enough to live like Larry, I am missing some skull and some neckbone, so even holding my head up is work. I don’t keep my head tilted because I am draining my thoughts, it is because my neck isn’t always strong enough to gracefully balance 8lbs of skull and brains.
The injury to my brain has left me with long-term if not permanent issues. This isn’t to say that I am giving up my badge and gun, I am just going on patrol duty for a while. I have to build back my strength in all areas. I deal with very erratic emotions (they are so awful), pain that is absolutely amazing, memory loss, digestive issues, nerve dysfunction, and a litany of other smaller but just as annoying issues. This isn’t ‘wait six weeks and get back to life’, this is ‘wait six years and measure your progress, good or bad’ and that feels like forever. It is no promise that I will be fixed. However, I am hopeful that I will regain more use of my memory and my hands.
At less than a thousand words I have taken three breaks. This affects my life in a way most people can’t see. I hope that by continuing to blog and write that I am able to build up even the strength in my hands so I can share my experiences. I hope to make visible the unseen struggles of chronic illness. If you don’t have an illness or condition, you can still be an advocate for those who do. I don’t even know what is wrong with me fully, I am in the process of advocating for medical medical workups after traumatic incidents. I may not have my problems had I gotten the proper treatment 4 years ago. I don’t want more people dealing with what I am dealing with, so I am doing everything I can to share my knowledge and experience so that people have a first hand account to consider.
Most of us wish to be contributing members of society who work and live ordinary lives that are nothing special. In many cases, the only thing stopping us is the society we live in. We shun those who can’t work or are injured or ill, we have to implement laws just to get accessibility to ordinary places for some people, and we even have to prove that we have a medical issue TO DOCTORS, never mind the surgery scar or my pharmacy-in-a-bag.
Let’s work together to find a way to get through this tumultuous, beautiful life.
The Life of a Music Monkey 