Hospital II

I have spent many hours deep in thought here during my few days. It has been a time for me to be away from the constant interruptions, and chaos of farm life. It is in this space that I have just let my mind go with pen in hand. I have explored my fears, and my shame over not fully comprehending how I found myself in such a terrible place just a week ago. I have pushed myself hard not to accept this with my judgemental emotional mind, as a set back. But rather to move toward a place of acceptance, and kindness toward myself. I have allowed them to help me. That, in it of itself, is tremendous, considering just a week ago I turned my back on my help. I took a different path. I could listen to the cruel voice in my head that shrieks “failure”, but I am trying hard to shift myself to a stronger more positive stance. Where is that Tough Mudder woman that ran bravely and with great pride. She is there. Yep. Where is she? Can I somehow summon her? Bring back that strength and face this head on. Sure, I could give up. But that would turn a blind eye to the countless years of moments where I found courage and strength and survived. Yes, I SURVIVED. The worst of experiences, which would have broken most, yet I am still here. Still standing. This is a blip on the radar, nothing more. Unless I let it be. I can make this about failure, and I can accept that inner critic’s admonitions. But why? For what reason? Just because? There has to be a better reason than that, if I am going to give up hard-earned ground. I, foot by foot, clawed my way to where I got this past year. I did that. I had help and support. But it was my setting my mind to finding a way to move on. I started this blog to give myself a place to put all the many words I find kicking around in my skull. I didn’t have to do that. I could have let it lie. I brought it out there into the light. I allowed Virgil and Beatrice in, gave them front row seats to the good, the bad, and the scary. They have now seen it, not from across the office, but there on their computer. To read, re read and contemplate, just as I do. This blog has taught me much about myself. I had never before allowed myself to put words to some of these experiences that shaped me and rocked my confidence. To the most brutal where my very survival hung in the balance, both at another’s hands and my own. This has been my way of opening that door. I have let them in. We can move forward, it is only good that can come of this. I may hate that I had to come back into the hospital, but at the end of the day I am safe. I can live to fight another day, and move forward toward that strong, sound, proud woman I met in the mud this past October. She’ll be back. I know we can get there. The guilt and shame can be worked past, and I will be okay.


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