Surrender & Acceptance + My Coping Mechanisms
In light of my double ER whammy crisis on my birthday eve and again on my birthday, I feel this is an appropriate time to touch on the topic of surrender and acceptance.
I had a vision once during a meditation. I was riding on a brown horse clutching the reins tightly. The horse was skittishly hurling towards a door. As we busted through the door, I let go of the reins. The horse’s chaotic sprint slowed to a graceful gallop as a light beam of purple freedom washed over me.
“When I let go, that's when I will be in control.”
Now, not to sound like that woo woo crazy hippy girl, but this was a powerful vision. These words came to me and never left. At this time, I wasn’t sure how to let go or how to accept my situation, nor was I ready. But I was prepared to be patient, and knew one day freedom from the tortures of my body would come.
At this time I wrote this poem:
Darkness below me
Where does the sky start and the water end?
This lake is cold
It’s still and dark
And I’m not sure how deep it is
Yet I keep sinking
It’s getting harder to breath
I can’t feel my fingers anymore
Nor can i feel my toes
Are they even still there?
Not sure which way is up and which is down
Slippin in and out
Weightless and numb, still sinking slow
Where are all the stars?
...everyone told me I was a good swimmer.
I wrote this from the depths of the darkest depression I have ever walked through. Sucked into a black hole, I didn’t want to be alive. I was not coping well with the pain. I was gasping for air, and I was sinking fast. Nightmares tortured my sleep every night. I felt my life had been stolen from me. Angry. Sad. Stagnant. Disoriented. Nothingness. I was tired of fighting. I had expectations, kept getting my hopes up during every test for answers. I was constantly disappointed. I was trying to control my body. I missed my carefree life as a capable young adult. I desperately wanted to be “normal.” I wrote that poem one week before my diagnosis, a week poisoned with helplessness and hopelessness. One of the lowest weeks of my life. I couldn’t see the light lying right around the corner, but I felt a strange comfort in its warm and invisible glow. I gathered my wits and held my sword tight as I whispered to myself to keep fighting just a little longer. And here I stand on the other side of uncertainty.
I had a collection of writing from different stages of my journey I knew I would one day share, but never felt the time was right. A week after my diagnosis, I was finally ready. The beginning of this blog has been the single most healing experience for me. Having a platform to express myself, the amazing feedback from everyone who reads this, the sense of community I feel, has restored life and purpose in my soul. It has saved me. Thank you to everyone who takes the time to read my work. And thank you to everyone who has reached out to me with such kind words and support. You are all truly amazing and make exposing my deepest thoughts, fears, and experiences on the internet worth it.
Although I am not close to physically feeling better and I have a lifetime of health obstacles ahead, the darkness is receding. I can breath again. I’m overwhelmed with hope and positivity as I shed the heavy skin of a trauma burdened Sydney, and welcome a newer me. A stronger me. A more resilient me. I am regaining my creative nature, and using my powers for good. Channeling my inner warrior spirit as I prepare to embrace this new life I have been given. I am grateful to be in this broken body. The fruits of my suffering are soon to ripen. The future is a blank canvas, and I will find new ways to paint old things. I may not be in control of my body, but I am finally in control of my mind. I have finally surrendered. I used to wish my pain away, but it’s much easier to find a way to rise above it. I can only control how I react. Although it might sound cliche, a positive mindset is everything, and if you heal your mind, your body will follow. This, I live by. I used to fear pain, fear things getting worse, fear being in the hospital, until all of those things happened… a lot. Sometimes you don’t realize how strong you really are until you hit rock bottom. I know now that with the help of all of the wonderful support around me and my own strength, I will get through anything. I will survive the pain ahead, and I will make the most of my life despite the limits it may contain. Sometimes I can’t believe that I’ve managed to come out on the other side of this in this such a relatively level place, but hey if I can, anyone else can too.
To anyone out there engulfed in darkness, be patient. There is always a silver lining. If you are struggling to cope with an issue, health related or not, I will offer a few of my coping mechanisms that have helped me through my pain:
making something for someone else
jumping in the ocean
watching bad reality TV (current favorite: 90 day fiance)
-listening to Migos because who can be in a bad mood listening to Bad and Boujee
hanging out with my stuffed animal dinosaur
meditation/stretching, breathing into the pain, mental imagery
laying on the hardwood floor
hangout at the grocery store and look at food
call a friend/talk to someone/distract yourself
wearing fun clothes and bright colors
Coping mechanisms in action:
- Top left-homemade raw vegan strawberry cheesecake
- Bottom left- homemade hummus plate
- Right- plant projects