I’ve always been a strong soul. I learned a long time ago that is how I was made. I was 15 when something really horrible happened. And strong was really the only way to survive. And as I got older, certain situations would prove again to make me even more stronger. And again. And again.
When you are a single female with no one in your corner (aka no spouse/or someone who resides with you) but lint and some random bugs lounging about, you have no other choice but to choose strength over falling apart. And seriously, falling apart??? No one has the time to do that. Or at least, I don’t.
It is legal to have a 24-hour pity party but again, ONLY FOR 24 HOURS. Only!!!! After that, chin up buttercup. Life goes on regardless. And you better be on the fast track to filling your life with all things proactive. Or you will crumble.
And if you live alone like I do … there won’t be anyone to pick you back up, but yourself. Been there, done that.
Yesterday marked one month since my life changed. To a new chapter, I suppose. Either way, a lot has happened in the past month. Good. Bad. The ugly. The emotions. The word feared from every provider’s lips: Cancer. Scary as it might have been, cancer was only a word and not a reality.
I still do not know what direction I am going in except forward.
Between September 13, 2013 to yesterday, October 13th … 19 different souls told me the lame cliché of, “When one door closes, another one opens.” NINETEEN PEOPLE actually typed that out to me on facebook, emails and a few in snail mail cards.
Seriously, stop the clichés. They are so so annoying. A N N O Y I N G. And just so wrong in so many ways. And irritating. Like fingernails going on an old school chalk board. Eeecccck.
Truly, just say and mean it, “I am sorry.”
Anywho … Because of everything that has been changing for me and not quite knowing what is on the horizon, I have been taking the time to experience new things that I normally would never have dreamed of partaking in.
Last Tuesday night, I attended a church function. I heard a friend of mine, a nearby physician speak about the past 14 years of him going on missions to help out the people of Haiti. I have great respect for this man and we met in the most curious of ways. We met through community theatre. Actually, I met him, his physician wife and his four daughters wayyyy back in 1998.
Saturday night, I went to a local lecture on Laura Ingalls Wilder … not what I expected but really, I had no other plans other than tuning into “48 Hours” at 9 o’clock.
And Sunday, I spent six and a half hours volunteering my time at the county’s food pantry’s sponsored musical jamboree. Granted all three events, my mother also attended but nonetheless, all three provided unusual entertainment and enriched my life a little bit more in each scenario. I also have gone to church twice in the past three weeks. Also unheard of. On my part.
What does any of this mean to the common folkster? Not a damn thing. But I am bettering myself with each new breath I do take. And putting myself out there. Waving my arms in the air really.
After my lap band surgery, I vowed to leave my hermit lifestyle buried deep deep down in a memory. I promised my new self that I would venture out more and try really hard to get more involved in areas where I always felt — well — uncomfortable in or at.
This past month, when there was ample opportunity to do nothing but curl up into a ball of pity and not leave my apartment or mingle with friends or do anything social at all. I have done the exact opposite. Not once have I felt sorry for myself or my situation. Not once.
I’ve kept mega busy. Driving back and forth searching and asking and doing all things to make my situation 1,000 times better. When that word, “cancer,” came into play two weeks ago, I had a moment of a breakdown but it only lasted a few hours and life went on. As it always does.
Through all of this uneasiness, I have gotten strength through my spiritual life with God. I have been blessed with strength from my guardian angels — both the ones I cannot see and also those disguised as humans walking amongst us. I have been shown what true kindness is through so many of my friends and acquaintances and I have been highly shocked and surprised by my own will to survive.
My saving grace through this whole new adventure has been my lap band. My 10 cc’s lap band. The entity in my belly has been a true Godsend. Daily it tells me to maintain a positive attitude. Because if I don’t have one, the stress will upset the band. And when my band is upset, I do not eat right. Nor do I feel the need to keep moving my body. My new self also does not allow the unknown stress to make me become lazy and sloth-like. It tells me to only sleep at night and then get a good solid sleep. Napping has become something on the past.
My lap band is a constant reminder that it has been a year and three months since my life changed for the better. And it will not ever ever ever take me back to the place where I once was for the past two years and almost nine months; which was unhappy, sad, miserable … stressed to the max and not feeling secure.
Going forward, I plan to continue to accept unusual invitations from people I may know well and from those who I just met. Opportunities are around the corner, I can feel it. Not knowing when that opportunity will knock ….