I am going to get personal. That is not much of a shock, since I have used this blog to allow you into my heart, on this strange widow journey of mine. I share quite a bit, I really am very open, but I keep some things to myself as well. And that is as it should be.
I have a filter, and I run things through it, before sending it off into the world. I have felt prompted to share my story, my feelings -- though deep they can be -- so that others might catch the smallest glimpse into the struggle of being widowed, and the hope that comes from having the gospel of Jesus Christ as my anchor.
My hope is that someone, somewhere, will gain something of worth from the words that I write. That is why I share this blog, rather than keep all that I experience private. I really believe we are all in this together, and the more we can learn from our experiences, the better people we all become. I share the good, bad, and the ugly, to keep it real, and to really keep a record of my life.
So here we go... this post is hard for me to write, but I cannot get the impression to write it out of my head. I am going to "let it go," as the song so boldly declares.
I have been having a really hard time. It has felt like the weight of the world has come crashing down on my shoulders. The crash began to really weigh heavy around January, as sickness set in, and did not relent for months. A darkness settled on me as I battled the EBV and CMV virus (double-mono), and that darkness has let up some, but not completely. This virus has caused a havoc in my body and mind, unlike anything I have ever experienced in my life. I have had mono before, when I was much younger. That round was intense, but it was just me and Charles at the time, and so I was sick with someone to help me. This time I have been sick as a widowed mother of 4, plus a brand new puppy. (Brilliant timing, I know!) This time I have been brought to my knees, pleading for a miracle healing, and for the darkness to be lifted from my body and mind.
I have done a lot of research, and with the viruses come things like anxiety, panic attacks, and even depression can follow as a result of feeling so physically awful; without a known finish line. For me, I have suffered from extreme anxiety -- something I had never felt before -- and panic attacks have occurred frequently. (In my life I have felt anxious when performing, or things of that nature, but nothing like what I have been experiencing recently.) I have been so worried about my body, it has consumed my mind, and I can get worked into quite the frenzied state; especially at night, in the dark, all alone.
Panic attacks are the worst. I hate them. I grow tired of them. I wish they would stop!
Last year at this time, I was preparing for my marathon. I was healthy, fit, and feeling great. This year, I can barely walk a few miles without feeling extremely exhausted.
It was right before the marathon (last June) that I noticed a little something was off. I went to the doctor for my first panic attack just about a week before the marathon, I did not know what was happening to me. I was concerned about my body because something felt wrong. The only thing they found was an irregular heartbeat, which can be brought on from anxiety, and also... the EBV/CMV virus. I do not know which came first, the chicken or the egg (the anxiety, or the virus). It was right after the marathon that my body started breaking down, anxiety started setting in, panic attacks became a new norm, and my body felt a little off -- not full blown sick, but not right either -- with other physical symptoms that need not be mentioned here.
Fast forward to now, and I still feel very off. I went through awful rounds of sickness throughout this winter, including strep, and my children were often sick too. It was so unpleasant, I don't even really want to think about it. Finally, after lots of doctor visits and a trip to the ER, my Primary Care doctor tested me for mono, and that was the answer to my body-breakdown.
At least part of it.
So, knowing I have the virus has been helpful in some ways, but it has not lessoned the physical symptoms; extreme fatigue, brain fog, severe vice-grip headaches, and the persistent anxiety that I grow so weary of. I know it is all connected, and that I have to give myself time to heal, but I am not a patient patient. I saw a doctor recently who told me to just, "hang in there," because that is about all I can do with these particular viruses. She also said that with it being my second round, it will likely last longer and be more severe.
Well, I am not one to just sit around and wait to heal. I recently took myself to the temple, a place I have not been much, because of my fatigue and anxiety. As I sat in the temple for quite a while, I asked my Heavenly Father to please take this illness from me. I pled with all the energy of my fatigued widow-heart.
I believe in miracles, even miraculous healing.
As I sat quietly in the temple, and listened with real intent, I heard something I was not expecting; something I did not want to hear. I was told that I am still sick, and I will heal, but I need to seek out help from professionals. The thoughts came to my mind that I should seek out help specifically from a nutritionist for my body, and a therapist for my mind. I was not interested in seeking help in such a way before, particularly seeing a therapist. But I had reached a point of complete and utter humility, willing to submit to the will of my Father, no matter the instruction.
After some more research and talking to some friends, I made my appointments. I even made an appointment for a dog trainer amongst the other crazy things going on.
A nutritionist, a dog trainer, and a therapist?
What has happened to my life?!
I went to the nutritionist. I have had my first lesson with the dog trainer. And I will be talking to a therapist in a few days, for the first time in my life. And trust me, the therapist is a hard one for me.
Pride, lots and lots of endless pride.
But when God speaks, I try to listen. He told me I need this, and so who am I to argue with my Almighty Father and Creator of the Universe? No friend, or family member, could ever convince me to go... not a chance! It is much easier for me to be humble before God, than it is to be humble before my friends and family.
Pride, my friends, it runs deep in my veins. Do you know what illness has done to me? It has left me humble enough to seek help from others, to be willing to change; something that has always been a struggle for me.
Sometimes, I think we expect God to swoop in and fix everything in some miraculous moment of glory; from sickness to health in a burst of Heavenly power and mortal relief. But I think this is rarely the way that God works.
When it is necessary, perhaps, He does heal in such a dramatic and fast way. However, more often than not, I think God wants us to do our part in the healing process, to seek answers, to seek help from professionals and church leaders, and to trust Him to lead us along the way. Healing may not come with full physical capacity restored, but it can come in full spiritual capacity realized. The lessons I have learned in this unpleasant process, have been potent and profound. When my body weakens, I rely on the strength of my spirit to drag my flesh where it needs to go. And the strength of my spirit comes from my reliance upon my Heavenly Father. I am nothing without Him. Nothing. But with Him... nothing is impossible. I rely on Him to strengthen me each and everyday.
After a particularly challenging day, I sat quietly in prayer, and asked my Heavenly Father why this was happening to me now, as a widowed, single mother. Why did I have to be so miserably sick, festering with anxiety, without a companion to help care for me, and our children? After a horrific event like losing my husband, I should be good to go, right? No more trials for me... that seems fair.
The answer to my prayer was not what I expected. I was told very clearly:
"I need you to be broken, so I can train you into who I need you to be."
I just sat there and I cried. A lot.
As I received this answer, it was clear to me that I was not broken, I was being broken; like you break a stubborn horse. As I have been broken, I have learned to listen and trust God more, and I am learning to better bend my will to His. I now fully trust Him to guide me, even in ways that might seem strange or unpleasant to me. I am learning to recognize His voice, and His instruction. I am learning to respond without hesitation; though that is, for sure, the hardest part.
So, back to the puppy training for a minute. How does this fit into my healing? I will say that having a puppy has been very, very, frustrating at times. There are times when she is barking and wanting attention, when I wish I could be sleeping, or at least fully resting. Mono and puppies are not the best combination! I have added another item to my list -- a high-energy furry item -- that requires a lot of time and attention. But she has also been a positive distraction, and even a joy. I can already see her worth in our lives, despite the chaos she can create. (Muddy paws!) Shudder.
Having a professional come and help with puppy Zoie has been so great. One of the first things she told me was to basically undo most of what I had been doing, and start over fresh with her ways, which, in fact, are better ways.
There was one moment when she was teaching Zoie how to be calm in a stressful situation. She said, "If we can teach her to not panic in a perilous situation, it could save her life." For example, being caught in barbed wire. I do not think the trainer knew just how profound those words were for me, and how true it really is. Panic, fear, and worry, really just make things worse. It was also profound that Zoie needs to practice, and be taught how to not panic. Which makes me think, there might be some real merit for me, in a nice visit with a therapist. I saw recently that, "Worrying only makes you suffer twice." How true is that?
Now onto the nutritionist part of my healing. This meeting was pretty basic, but very helpful. I was shown ways I could change my eating habits, and also some vitamins and probiotics I could take to assist in healing. This last year has not been kind to my body, going from running long miles daily, to not exercising more than just walking. (I would try a jog every-now-and-then, but it would wipe me out.) She recommended small changes, nothing huge... except that I should limit my desserts to 2-3 times a week, and only 1-2 cookies/whatever at a time. That will be a struggle for sure. Oh boy, I love my treats. I also need to walk and start with yoga as a way to keep my body moving, so I can regain some strength. I know what to do. I mean, I really know it... but knowing, and doing, are two different things in all aspects of life. I need to do, what I need to do. My body is suffering from lack of proper nutrients, and falling to pieces with lack of exercise. Oh how I miss my running days. They feel so far away! But, I am one day closer to running again today than I was yesterday.
And last, which actually should be first, is what I am doing for my spirit. I have started to attend the temple weekly again. I also have begun the challenge given to look up every verse about Jesus in the scriptures. (There are a lot!) But it has been very interesting, and wonderful so far. I need all the spiritual strength I can get, as I continue through these strange and muddy waters. Slacking on spiritual things is like not giving water to flowers, they will wither and die.
Must. Have. Spiritual. Strength.
As I look forward to my first meeting with a therapist, I find myself grateful for professional help. I am grateful that there are people who are trained in different areas of expertise, who can help and provide the tools necessary to heal. Just like the dog trainer is giving me the tools to help my puppy become the best dog she can be, the nutritionist and therapist are doing the same for me. I don't know if being compared to a dog is motivational, but you know what I mean. We could all probably use a little life-training from time-to-time, from professionals. I just hope the therapist has treats. I respond well to treats. Oh wait, I'm trying to quit. Darn.
My miracle is that there are professionals available who have the ability, and skill, to help me to heal. (I will have to do the work required to heal, of course.) Actually, the real miracle is that I have been made humble enough to be willing to seek help in the first place; because me and asking for help are not the best of friends, yet. However, we are strengthening our relationship, as of late.
Truly, God is the Only One who can tell me what to do. He knows that about me. I am so grateful He loves me enough, to inspire me to ask for help; because I need help, and I am not afraid to admit it now, so watch out!
Therapy here I come! Woo! ;)
Here is Henry with his puppy from the dog trainer. He was just a little happy about it.
