My Breaking Point
After a disappointing Saturday and no physical improvement on the "sick" front, I went to bed Saturday night thinking about all of the joyful things I was going to do on Sunday (Easter); by then the Cipro should have started to work and I should surely be feeling some relief. It wasn't as if I was planning on hiking Mt. Washington or jet setting off to Miami, but it was going to be a simple day filled with simple pleasures. And then, it happened... I woke up Sunday morning feeling even worse. I kept telling myself that I could power through like I usually do and still do all of the things I was dreaming of the night before, but it didn't take long before I realized that I wasn't going to be able to do any of them. And once the reality hit me, I broke down.
It just so happened that I was home alone at the time and was able to contain my breakdown to quivering lips and a few stray tears, but I just knew that whoever happened to be the next person I spoke to, they were going to get an ear-full. Not long after, the phone rang and it was my dear mom. About 90 seconds into the conversation my voice started to crack and the tears began to build... and then she said the most perfect thing possible: "Mel, go ahead and cry." She didn't try to fix an impossible situation, she didn't try to talk me out of it, she just gave me permission to open the flood gates and let it all out, and that's exactly what I needed in that moment. I'm sure she may have regretted it once she realized what she was getting herself into ;)
Once I let go of trying to keep it together, the flood gates opened and I cried... hard. I wasn't crying "why me" tears nor feeling sorry for myself, it was just sheer frustration. Frustration that nothing was helping me feel better, that my "rescue" inhalers weren't helping me breathe, and that even if I went back to the hospital, there's nothing more that can be done at this point, I just have to wait it out. Plus it had been a while since I had gotten a good night's sleep, so I'm sure being overtired didn't help. These moments are far and few between for me, but I am human and they do happen once in a while. But please, don't cry for me Argentina because the last thing I want is a pity party!
The only reason I'm even writing about this because I want to hold true to what this blog is about and, even more so, because I feel like if I'm not honest about the 'bad' days I would be doing a disservice to anyone else who may be going through their own "stuff" and might be able to relate. Living with any illness is not much different than living without one - you have some good days, you have some bad days. There are hard days that may test your strength and show you what you're made of. Allowing yourself to feel those hard days doesn't make you weak, it means that you're allowing yourself to be present in the journey that you're on, opening yourself to learn some invaluable life lessons, and that you are a human, not a robot. Sick or not, it's never a good thing to suppress or hide from your emotions and there's something to be said for getting it all out. Although I wasn't the life of the party by any means, I did feel better after a good, hard cry. There's also something to be said for vulnerability and wearing your heart on your sleeve. I was (and still am) at a point where my energy was hijacked by the Easter Bunny and there wasn't any to waste on holding up the facade that everything was okay.
I am grateful that my breaking point came on a day when my family was able to catch me and hoist me back up. They didn't have the answers and they couldn't physically make me feel better, but they sure as hell are great listeners and made me feel heard, supported, and loved. So if you should ever find yourself opposite of someone who is having a bad day and want to help, know that it doesn't take much - just a good set of ears and a loving heart. Sometimes you don't even have to say anything at all. Oh and by the way, I'm fine now; breakdown over. I just needed a few hours to get it out of my system.
It just so happened that I was home alone at the time and was able to contain my breakdown to quivering lips and a few stray tears, but I just knew that whoever happened to be the next person I spoke to, they were going to get an ear-full. Not long after, the phone rang and it was my dear mom. About 90 seconds into the conversation my voice started to crack and the tears began to build... and then she said the most perfect thing possible: "Mel, go ahead and cry." She didn't try to fix an impossible situation, she didn't try to talk me out of it, she just gave me permission to open the flood gates and let it all out, and that's exactly what I needed in that moment. I'm sure she may have regretted it once she realized what she was getting herself into ;)
Once I let go of trying to keep it together, the flood gates opened and I cried... hard. I wasn't crying "why me" tears nor feeling sorry for myself, it was just sheer frustration. Frustration that nothing was helping me feel better, that my "rescue" inhalers weren't helping me breathe, and that even if I went back to the hospital, there's nothing more that can be done at this point, I just have to wait it out. Plus it had been a while since I had gotten a good night's sleep, so I'm sure being overtired didn't help. These moments are far and few between for me, but I am human and they do happen once in a while. But please, don't cry for me Argentina because the last thing I want is a pity party!
The only reason I'm even writing about this because I want to hold true to what this blog is about and, even more so, because I feel like if I'm not honest about the 'bad' days I would be doing a disservice to anyone else who may be going through their own "stuff" and might be able to relate. Living with any illness is not much different than living without one - you have some good days, you have some bad days. There are hard days that may test your strength and show you what you're made of. Allowing yourself to feel those hard days doesn't make you weak, it means that you're allowing yourself to be present in the journey that you're on, opening yourself to learn some invaluable life lessons, and that you are a human, not a robot. Sick or not, it's never a good thing to suppress or hide from your emotions and there's something to be said for getting it all out. Although I wasn't the life of the party by any means, I did feel better after a good, hard cry. There's also something to be said for vulnerability and wearing your heart on your sleeve. I was (and still am) at a point where my energy was hijacked by the Easter Bunny and there wasn't any to waste on holding up the facade that everything was okay.
I am grateful that my breaking point came on a day when my family was able to catch me and hoist me back up. They didn't have the answers and they couldn't physically make me feel better, but they sure as hell are great listeners and made me feel heard, supported, and loved. So if you should ever find yourself opposite of someone who is having a bad day and want to help, know that it doesn't take much - just a good set of ears and a loving heart. Sometimes you don't even have to say anything at all. Oh and by the way, I'm fine now; breakdown over. I just needed a few hours to get it out of my system.
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