A Survivor's Struggle
Yes, you read that right. Everyone has struggles, but for some there are no words to explain what goes through the mind and body after a horrific event. I'm going to try to put those feeling into words tonight. Not just for myself, but for anyone who has (or is feeling) like I have (or do).
Here are some thoughts that run through my head continually: "What was it all for?" "Why me?" "Why didn't you just let me die?" "Did I survive to see the horrors of this world?" "It has to mean something!"
Before I was a "Survivor" I actually had many of the same questions. Like "What am I here for?" I bet everyone has had that question come to their mind. It makes sense. There are literally thousands of "self-help" books about purpose. It seems that most of us have no idea what our real "purpose" is. I understand that.
Being a Christian I defaulted to the purpose of "Save the WORLD!" "Help people!" "Make a difference!" True, but that's a lot of pressure don't you think? Especially since I've been "born again" since I was just a little girl. Thankful for that by the way!
After I experienced many "life changing" events, after I became a "survivor" (again and again) the questions that haunted me were "Why am I STILL here?" I've dealt with anger and hurt and wanted to scream "Why?" Matter of fact I have (just ask my neighbors).
During one angry outburst I had a very honest conversation with God. I am "painfully" honest, but maybe that's one reason I'm still here? I was crying and heart broken. I was married for 28 years. I had three beautiful children and had just had my first granddaughter. Then it happened.
We're not going to blame anyone or anything like that, but I am going to talk to you about how the end of a marriage and the family I thought I had affected me. I was lost. I was alone. I was tired and I yelled at God, "Did I survive to see this?" "This HELL?" "Did I survive to lose my children and my home and all the love I thought I had?" "What is it all for?" "WHY AM I STILL HERE?"
I'm not going to tell you that I've figured it all out because I don't know the answers, but I'm going to tell you about my struggle and some realizations that I've had because they might help you or someone you know that's really struggling.
I remember one day a friend of mine came to talk to me after my battle with cancer. She said, "I can't wait to hear what God told you during your five and a half week coma!" Unfortunately that did not help me. Matter of fact my reply was, "I don't know , I think he was busy."
You see, during the coma I lived through hell, many times over. I was tied to a bed because I kept pulling things out of my arms (like IV's), I used my tongue to get the tube that was helping me breathe out of my lungs because I thought the nurses were trying to kill me and I was convinced that the tube had a hole in it that made it leak and therefore I was dying." I couldn't tell anyone how I was feeling, but in my delusion I used my tongue to pull that tube out of my lungs and out of my mouth. I was so convinced that the staff was trying to murder me that even in a comatose state I kicked the bed so hard they thought I was going to break it. I remember because the nurses were laughing. They said, "They told us that she was weak?" "You better be glad you can breathe on your own because you might have just died!"
What? It was horrible. I hope this doesn't spark any bad memories for you because these are solely my memories and experiences and if I don't share them and the struggle that goes along with surviving....what was it all for?
So, in my search for meaning I did things that I thought I was "supposed to do". I thought I was "supposed" to get my degree in music. After all, that had been my original plan. Surely after that I'd feel the sense of let's just say, "relief." I'm sorry to say, I didn't. I was still unmarried, my kids were still far away from me, my heart was still broken and my body was in worse shape than it had been before. I was "Trying" so very hard.
I started making "hats and headbands". My inspiration came from the cancer patients who have gone through what I did. I literally woke up one day and had no idea what had just happened. When I went into the first surgery I was given hope and lots of promises. "You'll have one surgery, you'll recover and go home in about 3 weeks and everything will be great. You won't lose your hair, you won't have a trachea or tubes coming out of you...nope you'll be as good as new....if you survive."
Imagine my dismay when I woke up almost two months later and I couldn't look into the mirror, I was too weak to get out of bed. My legs and arms didn't work because I'd been tied to a bed for so long. There were tubes coming out and going in everywhere. "What happened?" I didn't know that I'd lost my hair, I didn't know I'd lost muscle mass and so much weight that I didn't recognize myself and couldn't stand on my own. "What happened?"
Then when my family fell apart all I could scream was "WHY?" "Why am I still here?" "What is the point of all of this?" I even wondered if God was getting a good laugh out of the torture I was enduring. I guess that shows you how I saw God. I thought that he was getting even with me for some reason and wanted to see what I'd do if I lost my family and everything and everyone that meant anything to me. Where was he and where was this "grace" I'd been taught about?
So, I decided to be brave....I was going back to school, I was going to run my business and prosper and succeed and through it all teach my children that they too can survive the horrors of life, no matter how bad life can be. Surely, that's why I was still here? To inspire others, to teach my children to always have hope, to let them know that when things are absolutely the worst they can possibly be...they can still smile.
Then it happened.
Because this post is going to be quite long I'm going to stop here and start again tomorrow. My story might not change your life, but I know it will challenge your thinking. I hope you'll stay with me during my journey.
Here are some thoughts that run through my head continually: "What was it all for?" "Why me?" "Why didn't you just let me die?" "Did I survive to see the horrors of this world?" "It has to mean something!"
Before I was a "Survivor" I actually had many of the same questions. Like "What am I here for?" I bet everyone has had that question come to their mind. It makes sense. There are literally thousands of "self-help" books about purpose. It seems that most of us have no idea what our real "purpose" is. I understand that.
Being a Christian I defaulted to the purpose of "Save the WORLD!" "Help people!" "Make a difference!" True, but that's a lot of pressure don't you think? Especially since I've been "born again" since I was just a little girl. Thankful for that by the way!
After I experienced many "life changing" events, after I became a "survivor" (again and again) the questions that haunted me were "Why am I STILL here?" I've dealt with anger and hurt and wanted to scream "Why?" Matter of fact I have (just ask my neighbors).
During one angry outburst I had a very honest conversation with God. I am "painfully" honest, but maybe that's one reason I'm still here? I was crying and heart broken. I was married for 28 years. I had three beautiful children and had just had my first granddaughter. Then it happened.
We're not going to blame anyone or anything like that, but I am going to talk to you about how the end of a marriage and the family I thought I had affected me. I was lost. I was alone. I was tired and I yelled at God, "Did I survive to see this?" "This HELL?" "Did I survive to lose my children and my home and all the love I thought I had?" "What is it all for?" "WHY AM I STILL HERE?"
I'm not going to tell you that I've figured it all out because I don't know the answers, but I'm going to tell you about my struggle and some realizations that I've had because they might help you or someone you know that's really struggling.
I remember one day a friend of mine came to talk to me after my battle with cancer. She said, "I can't wait to hear what God told you during your five and a half week coma!" Unfortunately that did not help me. Matter of fact my reply was, "I don't know , I think he was busy."
You see, during the coma I lived through hell, many times over. I was tied to a bed because I kept pulling things out of my arms (like IV's), I used my tongue to get the tube that was helping me breathe out of my lungs because I thought the nurses were trying to kill me and I was convinced that the tube had a hole in it that made it leak and therefore I was dying." I couldn't tell anyone how I was feeling, but in my delusion I used my tongue to pull that tube out of my lungs and out of my mouth. I was so convinced that the staff was trying to murder me that even in a comatose state I kicked the bed so hard they thought I was going to break it. I remember because the nurses were laughing. They said, "They told us that she was weak?" "You better be glad you can breathe on your own because you might have just died!"
What? It was horrible. I hope this doesn't spark any bad memories for you because these are solely my memories and experiences and if I don't share them and the struggle that goes along with surviving....what was it all for?
So, in my search for meaning I did things that I thought I was "supposed to do". I thought I was "supposed" to get my degree in music. After all, that had been my original plan. Surely after that I'd feel the sense of let's just say, "relief." I'm sorry to say, I didn't. I was still unmarried, my kids were still far away from me, my heart was still broken and my body was in worse shape than it had been before. I was "Trying" so very hard.
I started making "hats and headbands". My inspiration came from the cancer patients who have gone through what I did. I literally woke up one day and had no idea what had just happened. When I went into the first surgery I was given hope and lots of promises. "You'll have one surgery, you'll recover and go home in about 3 weeks and everything will be great. You won't lose your hair, you won't have a trachea or tubes coming out of you...nope you'll be as good as new....if you survive."
Imagine my dismay when I woke up almost two months later and I couldn't look into the mirror, I was too weak to get out of bed. My legs and arms didn't work because I'd been tied to a bed for so long. There were tubes coming out and going in everywhere. "What happened?" I didn't know that I'd lost my hair, I didn't know I'd lost muscle mass and so much weight that I didn't recognize myself and couldn't stand on my own. "What happened?"
Then when my family fell apart all I could scream was "WHY?" "Why am I still here?" "What is the point of all of this?" I even wondered if God was getting a good laugh out of the torture I was enduring. I guess that shows you how I saw God. I thought that he was getting even with me for some reason and wanted to see what I'd do if I lost my family and everything and everyone that meant anything to me. Where was he and where was this "grace" I'd been taught about?
So, I decided to be brave....I was going back to school, I was going to run my business and prosper and succeed and through it all teach my children that they too can survive the horrors of life, no matter how bad life can be. Surely, that's why I was still here? To inspire others, to teach my children to always have hope, to let them know that when things are absolutely the worst they can possibly be...they can still smile.
Then it happened.
Because this post is going to be quite long I'm going to stop here and start again tomorrow. My story might not change your life, but I know it will challenge your thinking. I hope you'll stay with me during my journey.
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