In Recovery

Ok I can’t be a gloomy Gus forever, I have to get on with it. I really am not so gloomy although the last few blogs may have appeared that way. I am just figuring stuff out, working it out on paper much like some pastor’s do from the pulpit. I am in no way a pastor though, but a person, in a bind, depending on God to pull me out and along. I have too many blessings to really be down, but sometimes you just gotta ride those waves, it is healing right? Pain is part of healing just ask a surgeon. He has to cut into you to remove the part that is broken. It doesn’t feel too good to be cut, but fortunately there is anesthetic for that. But in recovery, there is pain. Medicine will lessen it but never remove it, only time does that. That will be my new term for grief, I am in recovery.

It is 8 weeks since my Steve has died and I am still marking time in weeks.  I should say it has been 2 months, but 8 weeks seems to make it seem like it was a shorter time for me and it is much more precise I think. I will say the pain is less because it is not constant anymore, but it is sporadic and right under the surface. If I move a certain way, or allow my mind to dwell on memories of the past, or what could have been our future, there is pain. I am tearing up, then swallowing it back and pushing through. I have a friend who is adamant about me reading 3 grief books which helped him. I don’t want to read anything right now, maybe something that will cause me more pain, but I may humor him nonetheless. I actually can’t find the time to sit and read, well I could but I would much rather chase my tail, it keeps me reeling. How about that for honesty? I would rather be running from it.

The more I think about it the more it makes sense this new term recovery. After the procedure people are all your room visiting, uncomfortably lingering and feeling helpless. You are on the bed, the center of attention and you hardly remember who was there but you remember there was lots of noise. You receive flowers and cards and lots of love and medicine.  After a few days, the visiting slows up and you are alright with it because now you can get some rest and you don’t feel like you have to entertain and swallow back the pain. The quiet soothes you but then it gets too loud sometimes and you want the distraction of company again. The difficult process of rehabilitating your body begins. In my case it is my mind getting restored and perhaps my heart too. Recovery is always different for every patient. I am recovering at the pace my body allows according to the trauma I received.  I want to believe I was in good health before the procedure so I should recover nicely and rebound quicker. Everyone worries about me not following the doctor orders but I do. No one sees me during my alone time doing my crying exercises at great pain to my body. Trust me, I live with my doctor and he is on call 24/7.

Some days I want to say make me a bird Lord so I can fly far, far away. Didn’t Jesus say take this cup from me? Well I guess if that couldn’t happen for him, it definitely won’t happen for me. Who am I to think I am better than the most innocent? Some of my pain is self inflicted, I will embrace it and own up to it, some of it is just life and living on earth, I can embrace that too, but I know I can’t carry it all. I have to unload on someone, or something so I blog and I pray, then it gets released. Is this healing? It is for me, I am not crumpled up in a corner crying all day. People are worried I am not dealing with my grief correctly; may I ask what is correct. If we are all unique individuals, I am quite sure we don’t all have the exact same coping measures either. Trust me when I say I think I am doing okay.  I am supposed to have bad days, heck I had bad days when Steve was here. We all have days like that.  Please don’t wish bad days on me by thinking I am showing too good a face right now and expecting me to crack at any moment.

I am not all that fragile or dainty. I am a woman with five children. I have seen adversity, I have been through different kinds of pain, but pain is still spelled the same way and hurts no matter what. I come to this battle prepared and well seasoned. I loved Ma Ingalls on Little House on the Prairie. I read all those books and I loved her unbreakable spirit. She didn’t have grief books to get her through the hard times, she had what I have, God. He is the best counselor I know and he wrote the best book on grief and healing too. I am leaning on Him and depending on him to get me through all of this. He will pull through for me but I am an impatient child and want it all done now. I don’t want pain. I don’t want to do the hard work, I want to be at the end looking back but I have to go through because I am not a bird and I can’t fly far, far away. I am human and I walk and I trip and I fall. I am in recovery and I can’t run yet. It is frustrating, but it is a fact of my life. I know I will run again and that keeps me healing and doing what I need to do to get there. I could lie down and give up, but who would chase after my beautiful grandkids and tickle them silly.

I recognize some people may need grief books go for it. I am sure they are wonderful and very helpful please don’t think I am discounting their contributions to the healing process. Maybe I will be one of those people to write a book someday you never know, but I feel healthier screaming it out on paper, to my friends, or through the night, alone. It is not a bad thing to do some of this recovery thing alone and important that I do it this way. I need to learn to be independent because in the end it is only me. Does this seem selfish, not allowing others to help me do this? Maybe, but certain things only I can do and feel comfortable doing. I accept God giving me the distractions of family and friends because they are the goodies I need to make recovery fun and joyous.  These are the people who bring you a burger instead of the terrible hospital food and bring a sense of normalcy into your recovery room. I love my accountability friends and family who bring me back to earth and catch me up on what has happened in the world since I checked out.  They also make me get off my bottom and leave my house and go into the world and socialize.

So when asked “How am I doing” I will say I am recovering and no truer words can be spoken from me right now. By the sheer grace of God I am making a full recovery and will be stronger and better than before. I don’t want bad days, but they will be a part of this, I don’t want a setback either so I will take my medicine and do what the doctor orders. Recovery is just the right word for me now.