Lately, I have been thinking back about how far I have come in the past couple of years from where I used to be both physically and mentally. At this very moment in time, I feel like I am in a really good place in my life because I feel at peace without having my mind waging war against me… and it feels really good.
I believe what started this whole retrospective idea was having to go through boxes from when we had the flood at the house. The box that I went through not too long ago had an envelope stuffed with papers so I opened it to see if it was anything worth keeping. It turns out that it was a packet of papers that one of the therapists I saw had sent to me to try to help me with learning how to help myself and trying to identify any specifics that we could to make sure we had the upper hand in the whole PTSD saga. I read over the questionnaire that I did back in 2007 and got pretty teary-eyed because it hurt so bad to see how fragile I was. I wanted to go back in time and just give that younger version of me a huge hug and tell her that things were going to be so much better in the future and to keep working hard because we get there.
So, it was really funny that a few weeks after I found those papers, I had a few strangers ask me about the heart problem that I had and how exactly everything happened. One of the strangers knew a fair amount about the surgery I had and informed their friend that during the ablation part of the heart’s tissue is actually destroyed in an effort to cure the arrhythmia. I didn’t say a word when they said that… because it is true… the doctor must destroy the area which is causing the issues. It’s a gamble. It really is. I have read horror stories on the internet where people had unsuccessful surgeries and wound up with additional problems after. For me, I had an amazing doctor. I was blessed to be in the best area that I could possibly be at the time that it happened. I fully believe that saying, “everything happens for a reason.” If I had heard the stranger talk like that a few years ago, I probably would have gotten really upset and scared. Anyway, the second stranger asked me a few specific questions relating to me assessing the need to go to the emergency room. For the first time, I sat there dumbfounded. I couldn’t remember some of what she was asking me. Inside I smiled. A BIG smile.
It seems all of these years later, my healing process is pretty much complete. I’ve moved on… I don’t dwell on the details subconsciously. I am really proud of myself.
(I’d also like to note that I did everything on my own without the use of medication. If you can’t feel anything, then how do you expect to ever get over something?)