
I had to hole up, literally, alone for days at a time. Go inside the pain. Swim, and do belly flops in the deep waters I feared would suck me down, down, down till I had no more air left in my withered lungs. The body aches, and agitation festered, and grew like yeast in warm water inside my belly. I literally writhed in agony, and sleep was illusive. Superman braved the storm of my anger, unleashed and often venomous--his beloved Wonder Woman had become quite unlovely to be around. I was ugly with a capital U. Yet even at my worst, he continued to toss me an anchor of love to hang onto. I honestly don't know how he did it, but somewhere, deep below the troubled waters, he saw I was also becoming BRAVE--with the cap lock on. Letting go of my chemical buoy has been one of the bravest things I've ever done. Ever...

My body still hurts, a lot, on a daily basis. I'm chronically tired. I fight the grip of isolation, and on most days would rather never leave my house or talk to loved ones on the phone. But on a whole, especially looking back in hindsight, I am indeed a whole new person I've grown to love and respect. I'm healing and my bouts with PTSD are lessening. My fears feel more manageable when I can laugh at them instead of believe them as truths. I sleep like a baby most nights. I rest when I need to. I've found unlimited tranqulity being in nature; my new church, my new swimming hole. I don't beat myself up for gaining weight due to the lack of physical agility I had before the auto accident. Fat floats--right? I share any toxic messages forming in my brain to my higher power or Superman instead of allowing them to explode inside me. My inner water wings are holding me up, and my Superman, is still faithfully floating beside me.
I am not advocating anyone stop taking medications without consulting with their doctors. I am only discussing what was right for me. I had to see what it was like to experience my world, my thoughts and my personal swimming lessons un-medicated. This post is merely a reflection on the laps I've swam in the last year.
My hope is that I can continue to be brave.
For another day, another week, another month.
Another year.
With all my toes in the waters of life.
What's the bravest thing you've ever done?
For another day, another week, another month.
Another year.
With all my toes in the waters of life.

