Tag Archives for gratitude

First Blogiversary Reflections and Gratitude

When I started this blog a year ago, it was because I didn’t feel I was being heard in real life; especially by the doctors trying to figure out the cause of my illness. Filling the pages of a journal felt flat and empty. Although I was purging my emotions and thoughts in writing, it didn’t fulfill the need I had to be heard. I needed a place to speak uncensored and honestly about everything that had happened and what continues to happen to me because of my illness without worrying about judgement from friends and family. I created this space with the hope that someone would read my words and truly hear what I have to say, and maybe even learn from my experiences. I had no idea that this blog would lead to so many incredible things.

Writing here became a complement to my therapy sessions. I’m fortunate to have a great mental health support team while I make my way through the difficulties imposed on my life by illness and its unavoidable isolation. The talk therapy sessions with my therapist, which are mostly virtual now, help me to get out of my head and see what’s happening to me through the compassionate eyes of another person for a few hours each month. My therapist also helps me find positive ways to cope with my unending pain and overwhelming low, blue periods. However, writing here gives me an immediate outlet to articulate my thoughts and feelings. I’m connected to people who sympathize and want to extend their support, and people who truly empathize because they have lived through or are living with physical or emotional pain similar to mine.

Because of this blog, the support system I have now extends beyond my family and friends. The community I connect to stretches around the globe. It amazes me that each time I write here my words are reaching people in parts of the world to which I’ve never traveled. I have the opportunity to share my life experiences and be inspired by the lives of so many others living with chronic illnesses. Even though it might expose their vulnerabilities, people who connect to this space share their knowledge about living with chronic pain, medications, medical treatments, and self-advocacy in a world where doctors don’t always give the lived experiences of patients enough credit. This community makes me feel less alone and isolated, and I hope I do the same for some of them.

Others have helped to reawaken my creativity when the frustration I felt because of the haze of pain medications was at its height. I found muses here that brought poetry writing back to me with questions they ask in their lives about trust, truth, and change – among other things. I even found beautiful music that helps in moments when I need to calm my mind and body, and feel grounded so I can create my own art in the art/gratitude journal I never would have started without this blog. There are so many creative thoughts, images, and ideas exchanged in this community that it’s possible to learn something new every day.

Looking back at this year of writing, I can see how I managed to hold myself together. More importantly, I can read about the help and support I received here and in real life, and I’m grateful for all of it.

 

Elvis Costello & The Attractions – Every Day I Write The Book

Gratitude and Creativity: How I’m Healing

One of the best things I’ve ever done for myself is start my art/gratitude journal. Starting this journal connected me to my quiet self and gave me a tool to help heal myself. Since coming out of surgery – probably the second day after – I started drawing and colouring. With drawing and colouring, I was able to tune out a lot of my pain, other patients, and the busyness of the medical staff and support staff around me.

The first things I made while I was in the hospital contain a loving kindness meditation mantra that I learned many years ago in a mindfulness meditation course. The mantra is

May I live in safety
May I be happy
May I be healthy
May I live my life with ease

I often say this mantra when I feel anxiety. It helps to calm and ground me. Drawing it helped me feel less anxious about all the things that were happening to me in the first few days of my recovery. Things like the drastic drop in my blood pressure (it fell to 60/45), the unbearable pain flare when they removed my epidural, then my blood pressure spiking in response to the pain, and starting to walk again, which was incredibly painful. It was all very intense, so I needed something to keep me calm; as the doctors and nurses did their jobs to get my vitals back within normal ranges and prepare me to go home.

May I Live In Safety
May I Live In Safety
May I Be Happy
May I Be Happy
May I Be Healthy
May I Be Healthy
May I Live My Life With Ease
May I Live My Life With Ease

I’m glad I had the forethought to pack my art/gratitude journal, my Zentangle notebook, a new sketchbook, coloured pencils, and markers in my suitcase. I’m glad I’ve found things I can do, even under the fog of pain medication, that relax and calm me while giving me a creative outlet. The things that so many people believe are meant only for children have become significant tools for coping with my pain, and they are contributing to my healing.

 

Gratitude and Creativity: Light Up With Happiness

This past week was a good one – all things considered – with the news of a surgery date making it even better. What made it good to start? Last Tuesday, I went to stay at the home of my adoptive Aunt C. It’s the first time since I was about twelve that I’ve spent any extended time with her, but it felt like no time had elapsed. It’s not that I haven’t seen her at the odd holiday dinner or picnic over the years where I’ve received tight, warm hugs overflowing with affection that showed how genuinely she cares for me, but being in her house and having her spoil me for a few days was nice.

When I was a little girl, I used to spend weekends at Aunt C’s house. Sometimes the excitement of the weekend started early. I would get to take the subway by myself to meet her when she finished work, at a designated place, in the central train station downtown. Then we would take the train out to her house in a suburb outside the city. At her house, it would just be the two of us. She would make me my favourite meals and desserts I loved. Aunt C would take me to movies; we would go shopping; or we would just hang out around the house. On top of that, she would treat me to little presents that would light me up with happiness. My time with her was always so happy – and because I believed she was perfect – I once asked her to adopt me.

Light Up With Happiness - Shadow

Light Up With Happiness

I felt some of that happiness this past week, as she showered me with attention, care, and concern for my poor health. There was also a lot of laughter. So much laughter, that at times my pain increased, but I didn’t mind because it was good to laugh with her. We spent some time talking in detail about things that have happened in both our lives that it wasn’t always possible to talk about with crowds of people around at family events. At one point, I questioned myself about why I never made more of an effort to keep Aunt C close in my life, but I know the answer is my mother and the ever-present fear I had about betraying or hurting her. In some ways, it was a get to know you again week, and in others, we just picked up from where we left off years ago.

It won’t be too long until my next visit with Aunt C. Apart from wanting to keep our renewed connection strong; she offered to take care of me after my surgery. I already have plans in place for my immediate aftercare, but I’m grateful for her offer and I will go to stay with her at some point during my recovery. I’m also grateful for the chance to reclaim and rebuild a relationship that was important in shaping my understanding of motherly love. Although, most of all, I’m grateful I’m in a place, emotionally, where I can accept the love she offers to me.

 

Lee Ann Womack – I Hope You Dance