“The thing that I fear the most in going through illness, especially as I am seeing life on the other side, is that I will forget the lessons I have learned.
Even though this battle has changed me to my very core and I am no longer the person I once was, I already find that time really is the healer of all things and with that with healing, comes forgetting …or at least for me, it does.”
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I wrote these words several years ago and just ran across them when looking at old drafts I had never published. I don’t know what it is about right now that is leading me to post this, but perhaps it’s because these words still deeply resonate with me to this day. I also relish in the wisdom of the younger me who wrote these words. She was so wise beyond her years.
Despite everything being completely different now, the thing that I still fear the most is staying the same. I fear that I won’t have learned the lessons I was “supposed” to. I fear, even after all of the tumultuous victories and transformative lessons, that I might still face the same battles and be bound by the same patterns. Despite the deep knowing that I am no longer the person I once was, there is still a quiet nagging that who I am now might also not be good enough. While I don’t believe that to be true, its presence is a constant reminder of who I used to be and just how far I have come. I am forever grateful for that lesson, despite all odds. I am forever grateful for all of the hard reminders that help me come back to who I really am. Standing in my own convictions, as my authentic self, is not only the essence of my healing but the greatest gift of my life.
As you continue to read my words below, the ones that I wrote so many years ago, I hope they are a loving reminder that whatever fears you face, the path to true healing is greater.
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“I was talking to a friend the other day about this journey – how if I were to lay my life out on a timeline, my battle with illness would be in the middle and everything else would be either before or after. I view it almost as if I will have lived two entirely different lives. Granted, I haven’t experienced a complete “after” yet but I just know, deep down in my soul, that nothing will ever be the same. I’m sure many people who experience life-altering events, can relate. That idea however, used to terrify me. All I could think about when I first got sick was how I couldn’t wait to get back to my old life. I couldn’t wait to get a full-time job. I couldn’t wait to get back to Crossift/running. I couldn’t wait to go out with my friends. I couldn’t wait for my skin to return to normal and for my heart to beat on rhythm. I couldn’t wait to continue on as if nothing had ever happened.
Sometimes, I think that mindset caused me more pain than the illness itself (sometimes). I allowed the longing for my old life, the one that had been so viciously ripped from my hands, to hold me back from a new life that was trying to emerge – one filled with more possibility and passion than I thought possible.
As time has gone on though, I find that the memory of my old life grows more and more distant. And with that distance, the longing for it grows more and more distant also. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had no trouble replacing that longing with new longings – some filled with passion and purpose and some stemming from jelousy or limiting beliefs (ahem, social media). I just mean that the heartache and greiving has all but been replaced by the new. Sure, I still have moments when I see a photo or visit a location that holds dear memories of who I used to be and what my life used to be like, and I feel a deep sense of loss… but only for a moment. I think now, it’s not so much who I used to be and the loss of who I was that saddens me but more, I am saddened by the lost time – the years stolen from me.
It’s not as if I woke up one day and stopped missing the sense of belonging that work used to bring me, or that I stopped missing the high completing a WOD could bring, or that I looked in the mirror and was grateful for the acne of a 14 year old. No, it wasn’t (isn’t) like that …but I did start to wake up each morning with a greater sense of purpose (which is ironic considering that concept was one of my greatest struggles in losing everything that defined who I was). I also started to realize the preciousness of this life – not in the way we say it in quotes, but in reality. I started to see how little time we have. Really, we have none at all. Why would we spend our days doing anything short of chasing our dreams? I started to pursue new paths – ones that I only went down out of necessity. I definitely wouldn’t have chosen any of them; none-the less, I have found a sense of joy and fulfillment in all of them. What’s most exciting though …is the possibility. Leaving behind a career, 12 years in the making, was a hard pill to swallow …at first. Now though, I see a blank canvas. I can do/become anything I want – especially as my body heals more and more. How many adults do you know who can say that? What a precious gift I have been given – one that is teaching me to choose possibility over fear. So cool!
When I say that the greatest fear I have now is forgetting the lessons I have learned throughout my illness, I am not exaggerating. Despite the fact that my life has forever been changed – that I have forever been changed, it’s amazing how easy it is for my mindset to revert back to the same familiar, negative patterns. On bad days, it is still a challenge to not just throw in the towel – even if there is a new lesson to be learned and blessings to be had. It is undoubtedly easier to allow myself to go about my daily life, filling it with the mundane, than it is to fight for my dreams. But that is not the life I want anymore. This is not to imply that I may never Crossfit again (if my body allows) or that I will stop being at least slightly grossed out by my adult acne, but it just means that I want MORE. The forced change that just about ripped me limb from limb in the beginning, is now the lifeline that I’m clinging to.
If everything isn’t different after going through all of this, then what is the point? I am beyond blessed to have been shown the beauty in my suffering – even if it was painful beyond measure. I just have to remember that when I can’t see the growth – when the paths all seem to lead to dead-ends.”
“The secret of change is to focus all of your energy, not on fighting the old, but on building the new.” – Socrates