Beautiful Scars

Yesterday evening I went for a walk around the lake, of course, the second my feet hit the gravel along the outer loop my footsteps quickened. I'm a wonderful walker with friends, but alone I need more speed. I ran around the lake, sprinting at times, purging my emotions. It felt therapeutic. It felt cleansing.

I'm embarrassed by my last post. I have a wonderful life, and I truly have nothing to complain about. My troubles are not more important than everyone else's. In fact, if there's about 7 billion people on earth I can confidently say that there are hundreds of millions of people - possibly even billions - with problems much more serious than mine.
 
I just finished reading an amazing book titled, Little Bee by Chris Cleave. There are several powerful quotes and I want to share them.

“We must see all scars as beauty. Okay? This will be our secret. Because take it from me, a scar does not form on the dying. A scar means, I survived.” 

“If I could not smile, I think my situation would be even more serious.” 

“I was carrying two cargoes. Yes, one of them was horror, but the other one was hope.”

“They say that in the hour before an earthquake the clouds hang leaden in the sky, the winds slows to a hot breath, and the birds fall quiet in the trees of the town square. Yes but these are the same portents that precede lunchtime, frankly.” 

“At some point you just have to turn around and face your life head on.”

“People wonder how they are ever going to change their lives, but really it is frighteningly easy.” 

“We cannot choose where to start and stop. Our stories are the tellers of us.”

My Inner Coward

My favorite photo of Chicago. Matt and my gummy bear race in his, Miriam and Nate's room. It's fun to laugh with friends that we've known since we were little. Matt & Nate lived next door since the time I was in middle school. I remember, from time to time - when I was lucky - getting rides home from school from the neighbor boys, saving me from the one mile walk along the dirt road. The Wight brothers. They were always down for a little basketball at their place, or mine, you would hear a ball bouncing and it was on. I have so many amazing memories in Friday Harbor. Sometimes I wish I could go back in time and relive it all over again. Back to a time when my biggest concern was earning my driver's license.

I'm writing another post because I can't sleep. I feel like I have adrenaline bursting through my veins and nausea, along with dread, fear, and some sadness. I am one of those girls that is walking with the weight of the world on her shoulders. One of my favorite TV shows is called Parenthood. Dan can't stand it because it seems too realistic, but for me that's exactly what draws me in. One of my favorite things in life is watching human dynamics, and relationships, ebb and evolve. I'm in a vulnerable place right now, inching toward the knife, again attending appointment after appointment, MRI after MRI, reality into reality, deeper I go. In my show one of the characters has been diagnosed with breast cancer and the storyline stirs up so many emotions. It makes me confused, and reminds me of so many things. I find myself watching with tears running down my face. It feels cathartic and yet masochistic.

I am terrified of undergoing another brain surgery. I am scared for my head, all my little happily rebellious hair follicles, the scalp, the skin, the scar, the skull, the dura mater, the meninges, my brain tissue, oh wow, my poor body. Last time I went under the knife it was not an option. This time, I worry that I might regret walking into this. It could cure me but it could also kill me. That is a heavy burden and it's mine to bear. There are craniotomies performed all the time, hundreds perhaps thousands, I'm sure, most days of the week all over the country. I love hearing success stories, but unfortunately, I hear mostly those of horror. And with my history of complications, I feel as if I have plenty of reason to be concerned. I feel as if I am in my weakest point, that my warrior spirit is at an all time low. I'm still happy and enjoying my life, I'm laughing a lot, but deep in my soul it's stormy.

I don't need anyone to fluff me up and build my confidence if it isn't genuine, but if you could be strong for me, I would greatly appreciate it. I am unable to bear more than my load, and I'm sorry for that. I wish I could be stronger.