Getting to know the new me…

Sometimes it’s the journey that teaches you a lot about your destination.

I have searched for the eject button on the recent path of my journey, to no avail. In the years since my diagnosis I have done what I always do, plow through, head held high, never looking back. As of late that methodology has not been as comforting. Life’s lemons are still sitting on my porch waiting to be made into it’s potent beverage. I have stared at them not quite understanding what to do with them, as my normal kick ass, straight forward approach has had me coming up drained and in the same place. Stagnant and drained are pretty substantial words to describe my current state of being. I have pondered and scoured for an answer to the “why” and it wasn’t until several days ago that I found the answer.

Let me be clear, my friendship with my chronic illnesses is nothing new. We are several years in and I thought that I had gotten a nice hold on them. What I wasn’t ready to admit to myself or the world around me was that, I no longer knew who I saw in the mirror. She looked familiar, she sounded familiar, but all in all not the same person. Really, it should have come as no surprise to me but it surly was. As I was in my beautiful world of deep cleaning and ridiculously loud music this week, the answer to the why was so very clear.

I no longer knew myself.

For someone that knew who she was and where she was going in life at a ridiculously young age this was a catastrophic blow. It all made sense though. The feeling of being lost and alone even when I was surrounded by the people that loved me most. The feeling of unease and uncertainty when I had the best support system someone could ask for. It all made perfect sense. When all you know is this semblance of a person that handles life with a vigorous fire that can never be snuffed, then you find yourself confused and depleted from life’s lemonade, you can’t help but feel shaken down. Right now, in my life I am getting a shake down. One day I woke up and I was in another body that had unimaginable pains, unclear thoughts from what could only be described as a foggy state, and a back bone that no longer stood straight. Who was this person? How did this happen?

Getting diagnosed wasn’t the hard part, reacquainting myself… well, with myself has been the most excruciating experience. Trying to do this while living life on life’s terms, well now your asking for too much. Having to work, be a wife, a daughter, and fuck it a productive member of society… All the while trying to understand what happened to you… Now that’s a damn epic mission. Nevertheless, I realized it and all of the missing pieces came together. I hadn’t realized that it was going to be a grieving process or even a process period. The vibrant woman was now a slower moving version of who she used to be. A more jaded and fatigued version of who she used to be. The woman that looks back at me in the mirror is tired, depleted, and honestly a little angry… Not the old me that was the fire spitting free spirit with endless energy. Can I place all of the blame on chronic illnesses? Well sure I can but that’s not who I am. I take responsibility for my actions and my part in the situation. I could have done more about my illnesses. I could have done some more soul searching. In the end, I won’t look back at what I could have done, to me thats a waste of perfectly good brain cells that I should preserve for days that the brain fog sets in.

So where do I go from here I asked myself. Well to the beach of course! So I find myself at the beach, searching for answers to questions I thought I already had the answers to. I am searching for answers and way to steer this new way of life for me. To figure out how to still be that firecracker powerhouse that is determined to teach the world all the while possessing a body that does not match the soul.

What I have come to realize in all of this is, this is normal guys. I am no different than anyone going through any struggle. It is real, it is normal, and it is going to be O.K. Now I just need to find sticky notes to help with the brain fog and some great heels!

Until Next Time.

 

XOXO,

Undefeated Diva!

A Jaded America

We always reference kids but very rarely ask their opinion. Our inexperience might be what gives us the ability to teach our elders something, due to the fact that we are not jaded or cynical.
Adora Svitak

What an amazing quote!

I have ALWAYS been a believer of listening to our youth, mainly because I was a youth that had something to say. Till this day I suffer the never ending cycle of being the young buck of the crew at work or school. Not a bad problem to have, right? Wrong! Because as usual, my age has played a huge number in people counting me out. I have been underestimated at just about every turn… and honestly, I love it because I have proven people wrong more times than I have been underestimated. Nevertheless, listen to our youth people many of them have something to say!

Now onward to the moral of today’s ramblings. Today as I sat at a light, driving home from yet another doctors appointment I came upon a homeless couple asking for money at the light. If you know anything about me, you know I ALWAYS give. Unfortunately, I have been in a situation before that I watched my money walk right into a liquor store. From that point, I have always been very hesitant to give money although I always give in the end. This time I did the same thing I always do, I sat and looked at the couple. Male and female, the man was blind and walking with his walking stick. The woman was in shorts, sandals, and a t-shirt, hair astray. The moment I realized I wished my mom was sitting next to me to slap me came next. I realized I was literally sitting there clocking what they were wearing and weighing whether or not I would give them anything. In those 45 seconds I literally was ashamed of myself! Who the hell was I to pass judgement on someone asking for help. If I gave them money and they spent it on alcohol, well then I hope they had a good time. In all honestly, I nearly slapped the hell out of myself.

I was so angry at myself. I gave them money, like I knew I would regardless and drove off. When they approached the car and were so grateful, the feeling of shame overwhelmed me. The man was in fact blind, you could see the cataract over both of his eyes clear as day…. BUT it didn’t matter!

In the end, I was so mad at myself I nearly cried. Again, who was I to question their need. This judgement is not my job, this job is for the lord himself (or whomever/ whatever you choose to believe in). Honestly if he was P Diddy standing at the corner I would have still gave him money, because how about if he was just having a bad day! I left my wallet at home 3 times this month alone. I was low in gas recently. How about if my bad day got worse and I had a tire blow out and I needed help? Again, WHO THE FUCK WAS I! PFFT!

So I started really taking stock of the situation, what has made me so jaded! I blamed it on myself for allowing the influence of society to take up any space in my head. I started questioning myself about when did this happen. I am such a child at heart, why start being jaded now!?!?! Hence the quote about children and the listening to them. 6 year old me would have slapped me twice at my hesitation!

I drove home and decided I needed to share. People, what are we doing? Why have we allowed things to jade us to the point that we will question helping our fellow brothers? What the hell is wrong with us?

NOW, if a homeless person spits on you…. THAT’S a whole different ball game (Sorry inside joke of a real situation)…

In all honesty guys, what are we doing to this world? Why are we not helping our fellow brothers or sisters. I don’t blame it on anyone but myself for allowing nonsense to take shape in my mind, BUT let me say this… When there are children in America going hungry, but we are sending Trillions of dollars in aid to children in other countries, one needs to ask… What The Fuck America? JUST SAYING…

Today’s homework… Don’t question helping your fellow man. Would 6 year old you come back and slap you? If so, listen to your inner 6 year old!

Peace Out!

Undefeated Diva