I think I am finally ready to publish this.
Re-entry is harder than I thought it would be. You’d think that nine months following my transplant, I’d be eager to “get out there.” But the truth is, it causes me a bit of anxiety each time I imagine being surrounded by people, especially people I know.
This may sound counterintuitive, but strangers don’t know “my secret” and don’t care. On the other hand, the people who know me have been willing me back to health, and I don’t want to disappoint. I smile, sometimes pretending. Even now, my need to please others is at the expense of resembling how I genuinely feel.
I don’t fault them, everyone is so happy to see me doing better, looking normal. It makes them feel better.
I feel…
…CRACKED.
It’s like a tiny fissure appeared when I went away last July. Friends either took flight; became overly concerned with my health, or were more concerned with expressing their distress over a “weave-gone-bad.”
Maybe those cracks always existed, but I experience them like small tremors now.
Except for my most intimate of connections, I am detached like I’ve fallen off a ledge; my shattered parts spilling out from beneath me. I doubt myself…a lot. I distrust my decisions, my next move. FOR SOME REASON, LIFE CHANGED WHEN I LEFT!! And I find it hard to integrate back into a world that seems to spin faster now.
So until I reappear as another version of my former self, I will learn to be patient. Realizing that while my recovery might look complete, it is yet beyond my grasp. It isn’t as distant as it was several months ago, but I am still isolated; feigning a smile; and fighting to maintain. My inner self struggles to find the women it fully recognizes.
This may take a while.
May 19, 2017 at 10:38 pm
Oh Dee…..i wish I had comforting words for you. The only thing I can even say is you are human, a child of God. I love you so much for that. I love the way you are so genuine and maybe not to everyone……but to ME and to MY family. I feel like sometimes we as a society and as friend place too much responsibility on those who have come so far as you have, to be “normal.” I am here to tell you, I don’t know what normal is, and you are free to be you when I see you. I love you so much, and even though times we get to see each other are distant, I want you to know……i am here.
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May 21, 2017 at 11:07 am
Dawn, I always know I can be real with you. I am working on being “real” with myself. Thanks for the unconditional support. And I love you back.
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May 20, 2017 at 6:04 am
❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
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May 20, 2017 at 10:26 am
Take all the time you need, Dee. We are here in the wings knowing you’ll be dancing with a light heart eventually. Meanwhile, know you are dearly loved and cherished. Let us know when you want to do a little jig and we’ll be right beside you (looking ridiculous, but there). Every step of the way. ❤️ Love, Michelle
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May 21, 2017 at 11:04 am
Thanks Michelle. I am hoping for that “magic” moment when I reach the YEAR 1 mark and all the stars align. Hope that isn’t asking too much.
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June 29, 2017 at 7:09 am
I totally get the not wanting to let people down thing. If it helps, feeling weird and out of place is the new normal…for tons of people and for any variety of reasons. It actually isn’t new, it’s just that we can now put our feelings up for everyone to see which people were not able to do 10 or 15 years ago. You as you are now doesn’t need to find acceptance or understanding, it’s just you as you are now. And people don’t know how to react to change because innately we’re dumb. That’s just what we are…can’t help it. I’ll take you as you are now cracked and fuzzy and in 2 years time whether fixed and shiny or not if I’m allowed. And I say that whilst also continuing to present the strong me I believe my circle of people prefer to see.
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July 16, 2017 at 12:49 pm
Maybe after digesting your words, I can stop finally being a people pleaser…or at least start to work on it.
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July 16, 2017 at 12:26 pm
Hi Dee. I get it. Coming out of grief from loss is very similar. Take your time. Breathe. Pray. Keep blogging. You have a rare and powerful talent that will benefit other survivors.
Much love, Taylor’s mom💚
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July 16, 2017 at 12:38 pm
Dear Theresa,
Until reading your words, I never really thought about the similarities that both experiences share. You are right. Thank you for reaching out. I was thinking about Taylor a couple of weeks ago. Her radiant smile (from graduation day) pops up on my screen saver ever so often, and it makes me smile AND sad at the same time. There is so much that lies beyond our control, but with the Lord’s help (and each other), we will survive.
Peace & blessings, Dee ❤
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