Finding What I Lost In Myself

Every day since the start of this new year, I am finding more of what I lost over the years, I lost myself as a whole being. There were always bits of pieces of who I am showing through, I didn’t really see the real me, the whole person. I am sure it happens to everyone, this why we have a society filled with people who are riddled with depression and anxiety. So many people, myself included have been so busy trying to make others happy, trying to find their “place” in this world, trying to “fit in” to the mold that is set in front of them. We end up twisting ourselves inside out, jumping through hoops for people who would not do the same for us. We put ourselves so far out there to want to feel loved, wanted and appreciated that we have lost ourselves and forgotten how to love, want or even appreciate ourselves. We take abuse from others, thinking that this is how to be loved. We get so used to be abused and neglected that it’s our comfortable place, to break free from that prison would be ludicrous, so we remain chained in our prisons.

Yes, this was me for so many years. Could I break free to live a much better, healthier and happier life if I wanted? Sure, I could have done this years ago, I won’t like I was comfortable where I was at. I was comfortable living a dark life and abused life, I wasn’t really being abused by people over the last few years, I abused myself.

Shocker!!! Bet you didn’t expect me to say that? Yes!! I abused myself with my thoughts and beliefs. I cut out most toxic people yet, the abuse and neglect were what I knew so it was comfortable for me, so I kept it going. I stopped eating healthy, stopped going outside in the sunshine, stopped swimming in the pool where we used to live, stopped using the gym there. I got used to sitting in the apartment where we were, feeling sorry for myself, hating myself, wanting to die so that I didn’t have to feel that anymore. As much as I tried to pull myself out of that dark place, I stayed there, I stayed in the dank darkness of my own inner being, for me it was my safe place. If I hurt myself by putting myself down, then no one could do it to me, no one could hurt me worse than I hurt myself. I put on weight, called myself a beached whale, believe I was no longer beautiful or sexy. I chopped my hair off constantly or colored it constantly until I fried it off with bleach, leaving only a patch about 1 inch long in the back of my head.

My attitude carried through to my job, when my customers would call in for help, I am sure you heard the disdain in my voice for them and for myself. They had these fancy cell phones and devices that I wanted so badly, yet felt I didn’t deserve anything good or great because I was not good enough in my own eyes. I had no plans to move up in my career, if asked where do you see yourself in 5 years, I would laugh at people and say “I do not know.”. In my mind, the answer was “Hopefully, I will be dead or disappear off the face of the Earth.” I believed that death was the answer to end the misery I felt, I figured if I died no one would be affected. I mean I knew Ron would be affected, yet in my mind, it was “Well, he can go about his own life, have his family, his daughter and maybe a new hotter woman than me who can give him better sex than I do.” Oh, I was in a really dark place.

I am sure you ask what changed for me. For some they would think that it was the kidney stone that got lodged, facing death so closely with septic shock. I won’t lie to anyone, facing death in that way didn’t scare of me, I was unaware that I was so sick. I was unaware that if I had gone to sleep like I had wanted to do, I was not going to wake up the next day. I wasn’t afraid to face death as I didn’t realize death was right there reaching out for me to take his/her hand. I cannot begin to explain to anyone what I have felt since then, I didn’t come out a changed person, I didn’t see a light at the end of the tunnel, I didn’t float up out of my body. There was no flash or miracle that made me want to live by any means. In fact, after coming home, I felt worse about myself. I became angry that I didn’t die the night Ron rushed me to the hospital. I was angry that he took me, I was angry that the doctors saved my life, I was angry that somehow I got to live once again. The anger consumed me, the rage consumed me. I struggled for 3 long years after that to release the anger and the rage, to release myself from the inner abuse and neglect.

I kept almost every person who loved me at arm’s length or further and built stronger, higher walls, never letting anyone in. The fewer people in my life the better, that way no one gets hurt if I do die from my health or my toxic thoughts. Now I am sure someone somewhere is reading this thinking that I was suicidal, I was suicidal in a different way. I killed off the person that I was inside to be a shell of a woman who walked around in a state of mindlessness. I didn’t do drugs at all, I did start to drink alcohol, I was not falling down drunk, I was drink enough to not feel or think of anything, knowing full well this is hurting my health and kidneys. I began eating unhealthy, not exercising, not getting outside in the fresh air and sunshine, sleeping as much as I could. I would tell myself to die, just die. I closed myself off from most everyone for months after I came home from my near death experience. I spent time with highly toxic people who were more miserable than I was because it was comfortable knowing that I was not alone being miserable.

I lost just about everyone that I really did care about in my life, the only one who stayed was Ron. He never gave up on me, even when I told him to leave me, to find some one else. When I threw my wedding band at him, demanding to know why he had to take me to that fucking hospital.

Ron stood by me, with tears in his eyes, telling me “If you would just see the woman I see in front of me you would understand why I love you so much. Why I want you to live. Why I need you to come back to life and want to live.” He held me tight, even though I fought against it, I punched him, I tried to pull myself away from him, yet all the time needing him to hold me tight, to give me strength and pull me from the darkness. It was in that moment, just minutes before my doctor’s appointment in July 2018 that I hit rock bottom and needed to get up.

Sitting in the exam room, waiting for the doctor to come talk to us about my blood work and urinalysis, I looked at Ron and decided that I wanted to live again. My doctor came in and talked to us, I laughed about how I almost died, he gave me a stern look and turned to Ron to ask “Is this how she has been since she got sick?” Ron told him “Yes, she thinks it was a joke and it’s nothing.” The doctor spoke sternly yet compassionately to me, telling me how serious this really was and I laughed again never really looking at him, just staring down at the floor. When I finally looked up there was my doctor and Ron looking at me, the looks on their faces and their eyes changed what was inside of me. These two men were serious and concerned for me, they wanted me to live. We talked about a little bit further, the one thing my doctor said me that stuck with me since that day was “Get outside, get at least 20 minutes a day in the sunshine, find your happiness and your peace again. You have so much to live for especially in this man who loves you so much.” I looked at Ron with tears in his eyes and that was when it hit me, this man loves me so much, he loves me so much through all the shit. I have a wonderful reason to live. I have a husband who loves me like no other.

My doctor cleared me to go back to work and I was more than excited to be able to work, to be able to help provide for our household. I wanted to make Ron proud of me, proud to have me for his wife after what I put him through. When we walked out of the doctor’s office, I decided that I wanted to start living life to the fullest, I wanted a better life for us both. I wanted to find the woman or young girl that Ron fell in love with, I wanted the amazing parts of her back. Honestly, it’s been a struggle getting those amazing parts of myself out, I put them away in a box deep inside and buried myself under the shit. I worked hard since July 2018, to clear out the shit, clear out all of the negative, the rage, the anger, the self deflating, self loathing and self hatred to find myself where I am now, today.

We moved from the physical place where most of my hatred, anger and rage was, to move to the house we have lived for a year now. It was in moving here that I was able to really let go of the negative, the rage, the fear, the anger and all the other stuff and I have found my inner peace and my zen. In the early mornings, I get up some days before the sun, I sit outside on the patio as I sip from my cup of freshly brewed coffee and savor the moment. My thoughts are alive, while I still continue to break free from the restraints that placed on myself. I walk over to my altar, light some sage, I begin to have a conversation with my Goddess and the Universe. I tell them what I need, what I want in my life, for me, not for anyone else. I speak out the words, which I haven’t done in years, usually I think in silence to myself as I don’t speak my thoughts out like I used to do. I used to believe that I looked like a crazy woman talking to herself all the time, so I stopped doing it. Speaking out my thoughts out loud honestly helped me to get my head clear, it’s been over the years that I trained myself to silence my own voice. I believed that I was the victim of others telling me to hush, so I allowed myself to be the victim, in reality I became my own victim in the wanting to be the peacekeeper and keep everyone else happy. In turn, I became miserable as I was not allowing myself to be real to myself or anyone else.

As I speak out my thoughts, my feelings, even as I write these words out to share honesty and truthfully with the world, I feel this great sense of peace. I sit in silence most mornings, with my coffee alone with myself, getting to know myself, being honest, being truthful and I am finding those beautiful and amazing parts of me. They are no longer hidden from myself or the world. I am not angry or full of rage anymore. I feel free and able to be myself now, I feel that I can show the world who I am and be proud of who I am. I am in love with myself as I was once when I was younger. I can look in the mirror, I can see the flaws, the stretch marks, the cellulite, the scars and yes even the rolls with my curves and I love myself. I am not a perfect person by society standards, I am perfect where I am now. I am an amazing woman who has been through so much over the course of almost 50 years and here I am, ALIVE!!!

Everyday another great piece of who I am comes into the light and I greet that part of myself with so much love. I am loving myself for the first time in years, for the first time since 2009.

I am a wonderful badass woman, sassy, wild, sexy, strong, beautiful inside, intelligent, worthy of love, talented, funny and amazing. I deserve love, appreciated and I am wanted if not by any one else then by myself. I appreciate myself. I want to live! I want to be here now!!

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