Everything happens for a reason. That simple phrase that can be so meaningful yet so upsetting at the same time. I am one of those people that have always felt like things are meant to happen a certain way, that it’s not based on luck but purpose. Sure, some things may feel like a random act but somewhere in your journey this very moment was given to you specifically on purpose. Even those bad moments that strike your heart with physical pain when you think of them, are now given purpose in your life.
I recently read the book Greenlights by Matthew McConaughey, where he talks about his journey and how although he had a lot of red lights that had seemed to stop him in his tracks, whether through tragedy or bad luck, it always ended up being a green light in his journey. Lessons to be learned or a unique perspectives to see, maybe even people to meet. When I think about purpose and how much that means to me, I can’t ignore how my past traumas have helped me today. Even though I may sometimes fear the unknown because of them, these moments molded me into my world today and oh how beautiful my world is.
5 months ago today I answered my dads call hearing him speaking in the background saying “I think I broke my neck” before my cousin related the message that my dad fell. Right at that moment, I knew my life would be changed forever. This feeling of serendipity that I had been living in before this moment was lost and the purpose that I once claimed to be mine was gone.
This fact has been the hardest for me to accept throughout this accident. I had a hard time accepting that everything I thought my life to be was now gone, unknown, and no where near what I planned. Trust me, I had plans and nowhere in those plans did I have any intention of taking care of my father for the rest of my life. Here I am 34 years old in the best physical and mental state I’ve ever been in and my walls come crashing down around me leaving me with no room to move and my phobias and fears surrounding me like boulders that fall from a mountain. Right away I had to embrace my fear of hospitals, the nerves that I’ve always had dealing with healthcare, the trauma left behind from watching my paraplegic grandmother being handled by her dialysis crew nearly 30 years earlier, and a slew of other crazy fears and phobias that I never realized had effected me up until this point. I had never gotten into healthcare over the anxiety I get when I’m around people in pain and hospitals sincerely freak me the fuck out. At that moment I didn’t fully process the full extent of what it was going to take on my behalf to just be there for my dad on a daily basis but I did know that I was scared as hell about it.
So how can that bring me purpose? How can my purpose have me giving up all I knew to care for someone so special to me, completely disregarding myself? I was afraid and confused. It didn’t seem right to me and I wasn’t ready to face my reality. I wasn’t ready to accept my own fate within all of this. As much as I seemed to take this situation with stride, I was really afraid. I was afraid of what I would be after this had taken a toll on me. I was afraid of losing that planned purpose I gave for myself.
That’s the thing, there’s no real planning in life. Not one person in this world knowingly holds the answers to everything. We can’t plan our futures like there aren’t going to be some red lights on the way. One thing is for sure, the light eventually turns green.
After a weekend away for the first time since September, yesterday was the first time I felt genuine happiness. The joy I had held on to and worked on had genuinely left my body for 5 months. For a person who suffers with PTSD and manic depressive episodes, 5 months is an eternity. 5 months of self loathing. 5 months of clear and undeniable anger. 5 months of a degrading attitude that tore me down and spat me out. 5 months of no longer being sure of myself, my purpose and my future. Yes, there had been moments of joy that made me smile or chuckle but I had nothing left to give. I was so thirsty for some sort of sign that I was fulfilling a destiny that was meant for me. That all of this pain, fear, and anxiety was something I was supposed to be going through. A sign that THIS was my story. A sign that never showed face, until I realized it was always there.
Yesterday for the first time, I thanked God for how lucky I was to be able to do this. I thanked him for testing my limits and showing me that my fears were never ever something that I should’ve been afraid of in the first place. The walls that my fears and anxieties have built around me, trying to lock me in, are all gone. I’m meeting my purpose and it’s time for me to shatter the walls and move towards what is meant for me. Never have I thought that this moment of comfort and peace would meet me again after the 5 months of taking care of another human being, let alone someone that helped to create me. Back in the day my dad would always tell me a story about how when he was sick from his colitis and in and out of the hospital, he’d take care of me at home while my mom worked. He really got into soap operas because at the time we didn’t have cable tv and one day while changing me, his distractions from the show left me uncovered in his hand as I pooped directly on his skin. I guess now it’s my time to be pooped on by him and I’m okay with that.
This time has given me so much insight into a world of readiness. My availability to see the light in all things dark. The love, comfort and genuine care I have in my closest friends and family and the effects of realizing some people were never my friends at all. The skills of caretaking and nursing that I once feared, I actually thrive in. My patience to share my home with my parents, after running from their care nearly 16 years ago. The leadership I have to take something horrible, make it mine & still be able to say “I’m doing the best I can.” My strength that had always seemed so unbreakable but has made me as strong as a diamond because nothing or nobody can put fear in me now. My vulnerability to speak about my pain, sorrow and anxieties during a time that I could’ve shut down and stayed mute. My confidence in being comfortable without the hoopla of social acceptance because now I just don’t give a fuck what you think.
Now is a time for the 5 months of pain, fear, pressure, & unhappiness to take me somewhere I’m not planning anymore. A place that I’m unaware of but not fearing. A place that has an abundance of unlimited freedom, no longer being controlled by doubt. A place that makes me feel happy, something I took for granted before.
I’m ready for it. No limits.
My search for meaning, is over.
God loves you and so do I,
-XO
