I have had this post on my mind for some time now, but I struggled with getting my thoughts out in a way that wasn't just a jumbled collection of the many things that have tugged at my heartstrings for the past several months.
I began the year thinking I would blog more. Be inspiring. Be motivating. Help others. Unfortunately, that never happened. It wasn't for a lack of content or ideas. It wasn't due to lack of time. It wasn't due to lack of motivation. Looking back on it now as I face another new year, I realize what held me back was doubt, fear, and self-loathing I had allowed to build up over a period of time.
I went into 2019 wanting to radiate a positive example - to be the light in the dark for someone. How could I possibly do that if I was in such a dark place? I felt like I was just repeating myself. I figured it was best to just keep quiet and force myself through the day-to-day survival. I was ashamed of still feeling hurt, angry, confused, abandoned, and dismissed. I didn't want to admit that my faith in God was completely non-existent - I had come to a point where I had essentially written Him off and wasn't on "speaking terms" with Him. If I couldn't say anything positive, I didn't want to say anything at all.
I realize now that doing so was a mistake. That I had allowed my life to be controlled by lies I had convinced myself to be truth.
Now, some of the beliefs I have developed about myself were a result of past traumas from which I never fully healed. Add to that the chronic pain, health issues, failed IVF cycles, and instances of being treated poorly as a result of my health issues - it's a great recipe for compounding those negative thought patterns. It allowed them to grow and flourish rapidly, like weeds. I found myself suffocating.
In the spirit of the new year, I think it's time to come clean and admit where I have been this past year. It's time to break my silence, be honest, and start healing without allowing shame to weigh me down.
My endometriosis came back and I was constantly in pain.
My husband's grandmother passed away.
My chronic pain got worse, to the point where I was back on strong pain medication and couldn't work.
My endometriosis and pain got so bad, I ended up in psychiatric care due to active suicidal thoughts because I just wanted the pain to stop.
My work life got interrupted because I was incapable of working full days without suffering flare-ups.
My work life became strained and uncomfortable as I found myself being treated differently being on medical leave and part-time disability.
My family life suffered because I couldn't do something as simple as go and watch a softball game or go to the zoo without suffering a flare-up.
My family life suffered because I couldn't stand car rides without suffering 3-4 day long flare-ups after trips.
My social life suffered because I couldn't commit to plans.
My grandmother passed away.
My work life got to a point where I was so uncomfortable with how I felt I was perceived I decided it was time to pursue a new career path.
My search for a doctor locally to treat my endometriosis left me feeling frustrated and angry that no one was listening to me.
My car was totaled on Halloween - a day we struggle with anyway because it was our second cycle loss - because it snowed and I lost control of my vehicle on a slick patch.
My fifth surgery in a five year period happened more than 5 hours away from home.
My amount of hospitalizations ended up being more than I care to try to count.
My desire to go to church and connect with God was completely gone.
Now, I don't say all of those things because I'm looking for sympathy. There are a couple of reasons I have chosen to share them now.
One - I know I'm not the only one who has had a tough year. In fact, I'm willing to bet there are many out there who have had a worse year. And I want those people to know that they're not alone. And, if you are like me and found yourself at the end of 2019 wondering where on earth the year went and why you "allowed" yourself to curl up in fetal position and stay there, that you're not the only one who did that. I don't like admitting that's what happened to my year, but it did. And I can choose to let that shame carry with me into the new decade, or I can reflect on what happened, pick myself back up, and give it another shot. If you spent last year in a similar fashion as me - hiding out because you were embarrassed or ashamed of how you felt about yourself and/or your faith and/or your life - I want you to know that it's ok. I think had I recognized the anguish I was feeling, my struggles, and my pain - not just within myself, but outwardly and honestly - the healing process could have happened quicker. And that's an important lesson, I think. Just because we cannot see the silver lining doesn't mean what we have to say, our thoughts, or our feelings are invalid. It means we are human. And sharing those stories might just be what someone else needs to hear.
Two - out of many of those struggles listed, something absolutely beautiful has bloomed.
Sure, there are things I lost. But there is so much more on the horizon as a result.
I learned even more the importance of advocating for myself. You are your own best advocate. Believe in that. And if you need help? Please let me know and I'll give you some tips and a pep talk. If you don't speak up, you won't be heard.
I have made new connections. I have found that as I am more open about my struggles with endometriosis and infertility, others are sharing with me their stories. When I totaled my car, I ended up being taken by ambulance due to neck pain as a precaution. I'm not sure why, but I shared with the EMT the story of my struggle with endometriosis and our infertility issues. I was met with that person's story of their family's struggles with the same issues.
I became stronger mentally by recognizing I don't deserve to be treated poorly because of something I cannot help. I didn't ask to have endometriosis. I didn't ask for it to come back. It's not my fault, nor is my infertility. I stepped back from situations where I felt there was a lack of understanding - and, in some cases, borderline bullying and abuse. I realized I didn't have control over my medical condition, but I had control over how I would allow myself to be treated.
I took a huge leap of faith when my grandmother passed away and decided it was time to go back to school and finally go into education. She was a third grade teacher for most of her life. Losing her was a wake up call for me. Life is too short to be doing jobs I'm not passionate about. Not just that, but it gave me the courage to finally embrace what I believe I have been called to do with my life.
Now - as for my faith. We started going back to church towards the end of 2019. I had to force myself into it. But, I'm so glad I did. Each message not only brought me closer to wanting to rebuild my relationship with Christ, but made me realize I was exactly where He wanted me to be. While I can't recount every sermon topic, I can recall that each time, I was moved because it felt like it was a message I needed to hear at that time.
Most recently, my husband and I came across a song called "Scars". (You can listen to it here). The gist of the song is being thankful for the hardships we have endured because they have made us stronger in our faith and convictions. Not only that, they shape us into stronger people.
With that, we can choose to stay silent, or we can choose to speak our truths and struggles into the world and share how we got through them. And while it's not always a nice, neat, tidy path, we got there.
The sermon that Sunday - just a day or two later - was on "The Old You - Leaving the Past Behind". And that sermon is what inspired me to finally write again. Not because I think the past is some taboo, awful thing. Not because I'm abandoning "old" Kristy. But, because despite what happened in 2019, 2020 is here. And I get to decide if I just cling on to the past hurt, insecurity, and shame I have carried with me - or if I leave it behind me. That's not to say we'll ever forget the hurt, or that the hurt won't resurface. I embrace those parts of my past - those parts of me - because I wouldn't be who I am today without those struggles.
I have heard of people choosing words to represent their year. My word is grace. I'm giving myself grace. Grace to hurt. Grace to heal. Grace to celebrate to despite the hurt. Grace to hurt despite the blessings. Grace to make mistakes. Grace to share what's on my heart and stop censoring myself. Grace to free myself from shame. Grace to move on.
My hope for you this year is that you will also give yourself that same grace. I know it can be a struggle. I know you might be in a place where this sounds completely foreign and you think I'm full of it. I've been there. Which is why I often refrained from speaking out about my faith journey - I didn't want to offend anyone. I didn't want to alienate someone who was hurting because they were or are angry at God. I didn't want to bring down those whose faith is strong. I didn't want to hurt those whose faith had been shattered. So here it is - no matter what I share with you this year, I hope you give yourself grace to allow yourself to feel how YOU feel about it, without feeling ashamed. Shame is such an ugly thing that weighs us down and it is SO hard to shake. But, if you need it - I'm here for you.
So here's to 2020. A year of finding the grace to continue to move forward. Grace to be exactly where we are, free from shame, self-doubt, and judgement.
For the past year, I have asked others for prayer because I couldn't bear praying myself. This year, I want to do the same for you. Please reach out to me if there are prayers I can lift up for you.
Love,
Kristy
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