A year ago today, I was updating the blog about my first weekend after the Depo shot. I have to say that I'm glad I documented a lot of the stuff that happened during this time because I honestly have no real memory of it. Other than the really scary days and the really humiliating days, everything else is really just a blur. That concerns me, as I've mentioned before, but there really isn't anything I can do about it.
There are some things that maybe it's best I don't remember. The 25 of January in 2014 was really bad for me, probably one of my lowest points. The shot hadn't started working yet and I'd been through so much bleeding that I really didn't think it would. I was also in a lot of pain. My back was causing me a lot of problems and according to the blog, I couldn't find a position to where I was comfortable. I was dizzy and very emotional.
I read my blog about this and I could sense my desperation, but I really don't have a memory of it. That puts me in an interesting position, because how do I reflect on what I learned when I don't remember the day at all? Although, the fact that I can't remember it doesn't alter the proof of how dire it was for me. From what I wrote, I was in a very VERY bad place on this day. I felt demoralized and hopeless. I really didn't think things would be better.
It got better though. The drugs kicked in. I gained some strength back. I learned to function and feel like a person again. One of the things I wrote in that post is that I didn't think I could ever feel comfortable in my own skin again, and today, I feel more comfortable in my skin than I have in years. Having more strength and more flexibility had lead to me going for longer periods of time without pain. That's pretty nice.
I am very lucky. I'm not going to discredit the work I've done to get myself to this point, but I'm also going to acknowledge the universe and the powers that be that helped it to happen. Things can get better, but a lot of hard work on your part and fortune along with it make that happen. They never get better just on their own.
The real lesson here for me is that in those dark hours, maybe, in the moments that I can, I will try to think of plans to get myself out of the situation. I will remember reading the blog about last year (because I can't actually remember last year) and I will understand that there are ways out of the moments of despair. And yes, that is a bit cliche, but let's face it, sometimes it's a cliche we don't buy into. There are minutes that feel like they last eons because they hurt so bad. We know they'll pass, but finding a way through them seems impossible.
You know, after all the PTSD I feel about last year, maybe it's good that some of the details are pretty sketchy or just missing. Feeling hopeless is probably one of the worst things in the world. It breaks parts of you and sometimes you never heal them back. I have blank spaces now.
Even still, I'm stronger than I was.
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