How to begin...

I guess we're really doing this...

I've been toying with the idea of starting a blog for a few weeks now. Every time I think I've decided to make the leap, I chicken out. Imposter syndrome is a bitch. But here we are, on the first post of my new blog. So, it looks like I decided to commit. At least for now. I honestly don't know if this will stick. I'd really like for it to, but I have no idea what I'm doing.  Which, not going to lie, terrifies me. But, I think it will help me, if nothing else. I'm not sure what I'm doing. What to post. What not to post. I guess we'll just have to figure this out as we go. A good start would be explaining why I'm doing this perhaps. 

I've been sick my entire adult life, and started battling depression when I was about 15. It's been a very long time since I've experienced a day that was pain free, be it physical or emotional. I will undoubtedly dive into the details of the medical side of my journey as I continue this blog, but for now, we'll leave it here. It didn't take long after I had started to realise that my condition was chronic and this was my life now for the numbness to sink in. I have very few memories of my 20's, especially my mid-20's. When I'm asked how many surgeries I've had, I have to think about it. I think the answer is seven with full anesthesia. If we're counting in office surgical procedures with local anesthetic, then somewhere north of 250 would be my best guess. I lost count within the first year. But like I said, I really am not sure. I remember learning to mask the pain and bury it deep inside out of survival. I remember bits and pieces of holidays. I remember learning to hate birthdays because it was a marker of another year lost. And I remember nothing worked. No medication, no treatment. And eventually, not even my emotions. I went completely numb. Everything else from those years is hazy. I think I shut down because whether or not I was acknowledging the pain and trauma, it was still too much for my body and mind to endure. And so my 20's were lost to a fog of hospitals, doctor's offices, and the insincere well wishes of those around me. 

In May of 2020 I nearly died. Even now, I'm not sure if I ignored my body's warning signs, or if I was simply so numb I didn't notice. Due to what was ultimately a side effect of a medication I developed extensive ulcers throughout my stomach and entire GI tract, which then ruptured causing me to slowly bleed out internally and go into sepsis. I was near death when I arrived in the ER. I don't think anybody except for my mom expected me to survive. Sometimes I wonder how I did. Sometimes I wish I hadn't. But nonetheless, I did and it was a wake up call. As I recovered physically I realised that if I was going to live, I had to LIVE. Not just survive. I couldn't stay numb anymore. I had to take control. It was a long process of trial and error to begin to get control of the physical aspects. What diets worked, what exercises I could and couldn't do, which vitamins and supplements helped. My plans were extensive and frequently changed. But no amount of work on the physical aspects of my life brought "me" back. I tried different forms of religion and spirituality. I got lost in books, movies, video games. I'd feel a spark here and there, but I still wasn't "me." 

Then, on a whim in April of this year I decided to listen to this band that was saturating my algorithm across my social media feeds. I hadn't listened to music in years, but the pull of Sleep Token was something I couldn't seem to ignore. The first song I heard in full was Emergence, and I couldn't get enough. I listened the whole discography that night. The next day Caramel was released and for the first time in years.. I actually cried, full on sobs. It was a release I didn't know I needed. From there, I really don't think there was any turning back. I listened to the entire discography, on repeat, for months. Nothing else. It woke something up in me, a tiny spark was emerging. I truly felt like I had found a piece of myself that I wasn't sure I would ever rediscover. It was painful and beautiful but I was finally feeling things again. I started drawing again. It was like I finally had the space to breathe and really examine where I was and start to analyze and accept what I had been through. As I've said many times, Sleep Token makes you face and sit with your trauma. Not out of cruelty, but love. It sits with you and gently holds your hand while you put yourself back together. And then it feels like a forehead kiss once you're ready to get up and move on. At least this is what it felt like to me. The music stays with me as I continue to work through years of buried trauma. A gentle companion, never straying far, helping me heal things it didn't break. It's the soundtrack to this journey back to myself. And it's already brought me so far. It's been the therapy I so desperately needed, and it's led me places I never imagined being. Like here, starting this blog. I still have a long way to go on my journey, but I'm hoping by being so open online with my past and current struggles I'll be able to help somebody else. So I'm extending a hand to any and all willing to take it. I don't care if you have a diagnosis or not, whether your struggle is mental, physical, or a combination of both. I will never care what your politics are or what religion you follow. All are welcome here, and all are safe. Because healing is a fucking hard journey and nobody should have to do it alone. And I'm proud of anyone willing to even try...