"...but it's hard to stay mad, when there's so much beauty in the world. Sometimes I feel like I'm seeing it all at once, and it's too much, my heart fills up like a balloon that's about to burst... And then I remember to relax, and stop trying to hold on to it, and then it flows through me like rain and I can't feel anything but gratitude for every single moment of my stupid little life." - Lester Burnham, "American Beauty"
Photo: The beautiful tree right outside my window at the new Sunnyvale house. (This was taken while I was inside - can you believe it?)
After all that thinking about swimming yesterday, I decided to go to 24-hour, especially because it's two blocks away from where I live in Sunnyvale, to go for a late-night swim. After I got out of the gym and was walking to my car around 10:20 p.m., I came to a conclusion that made me feel at once calm and peaceful. Yay for euphoric swimmings:
A year ago, I went through knee surgery because I found out I had osteochondromatosis, "a disorder of a joint featuring a change of the normal joint lining (synovium) tissue's cellular structure to form bone-cartilage tissue."
It took a lot of steps to recover, but with a strong will - and peace of mind - I was up on my feet again, and approximately two weeks earlier than anticipated. It was hell to not be able to walk, to be bed-ridden, especially because I am a get up and go kind of girl. And that is why I persevered. To celebrate my early recovery, Aaron and I went to Disneyland... and it was magical.
When I came home from the hospital three weeks before, I had no idea I would eventually be in "the happiest place on earth", literally. I remember coming home from the hospital and looking at my four patio stairs with anger. How would I manage to walk up them when I could barely get out of the car without crying in pain? My mom helped me out of the car and I stared at the steps for a while. I eventually sat down on the first step, extended my left leg, propped myself up and my mom dragged my leg to the next step. I never imagined that I would struggle up - and down - steps I had gone down with ease for the two years I had liven there before.
But with my family, Aaron and his family's support I made it through, healthy and happy.
Eventually I was able to ease down the stairs with crutches and then hobbling and WALKING... again.
A year and two months later, I am faced with a similar problem, but instead of it being a physical disorder, it is a mental one. I have spent my whole life - especially the last four to five years - reasoning why I don't need to see a therapist. Scapegoating on not being able to find a connection with a professional, or finding someone who
really understood me.
Now I see this as just as important as my knee surgery... going to a professional may not get me up and walking again physically, but mentally - I WILL WALK AGAIN!
Sure, I can go through life with my problem and hurt others I care about, especially myself. But why do that when there is a way to ease the pain right in front of me. There is no miracle cure, and never will be.
It may ease the pain, but it will never cease to exist. But as someone that will face both a physical and mental block her entire life, I am willing to finally accept the help.
Especially considering what I am going through is just a drip in the bucket compared to problems people face every day in the world.
I have no reason not to take care of myself, especially when I can. And to be able to acknowledge what I am feeling is reason enough to get up the courage to walk into a room and have an honest conversation with an adult each week - a therapist - and everyday - myself.