Many have asked me (and messaged me quite a bit lately) and this is what I have told them & others. I hope my thought helps someone out there too…
“God didnt keep me from getting this disease for one simple reason, I can handle it. He will never give us more than we can handle and even though somedays we question that and much more, we push through, and we get tougher and more encouraged by others and by the peace He gives us as we walk this walk, that He intended, for a purpose we may never fully understand, but just knowing there is a purpose, makes it all worthwhile.”
The past two months are just a blur
I think it’s been that long, or maybe more
Like pieces of a puzzle and people are now missing and I don’t know why
My husband reassures me to not worry, that if I needed to know, he would tell me and that he’s protecting me
I, as everything else, trust him completely, though with my mind now, I still try and understand
I read some blogs I recently wrote, though my memory of all of them isn’t quite there, but either way, they didn’t help
It’s almost like gaps .. holes .. lapses
I know my brain goes into “protection” mode with too much stress or pain but I’m pretty sure there’s more to it than just that
I ask a lot of questions, but I know the answers I hear aren’t the whole truth
But I know that is also for my own protection, but from what or who, I don’t know
So I continue to read when I can focus, watch movies when I can concentrate and go where I’m told to go
Though with whatever is happening around me, I wish the doctors were one thing I could avoid
So my husband reassures me of good things coming, but I can’t remember what they are, my daughter keeps reminding me of things I used to tell her when she needed peace and I know I can’t wait to see my son again, which I’m told is soon
Am I lost? I guess in a way. But maybe it’s for the best, because I do remember nightmares – and whatever it is I’m missing, I pray it doesn’t come to me that way
But I know I’m loved, protected, safe and very blessed by our families and friends .. and grateful to God for each of them and more
After more than 48 hours now, I’m still where I was on Monday. I wish things have changed and I have left my escape, but I haven’t.
I wish I was writing to share that I found that direction that I mentioned in my last blog “Tears”, but I still haven’t found it.
I lost a little bit more of who I am today. I let a part of this horrible disease show for a few horrible moments that I can never take back. Am I in the wrong? Dealing as a PWD (Person with Dementia), it’s those moments that we are truly not in control of our words or our actions. It breaks my heart that I’m getting worse and that it’s showing more and more to those I love. But since Monday, I have been truly heartbroken inside. I feel like my life has been ripped out of my hands again. The realization hit me today of the power that one person can hold over me. It’s astounding, to say the least. What control, what a force within my soul, what power. And I’m at a loss – still, by this one person.
I just finished a long talk with my husband after today’s meltdown and I’m blessed to say he finally has a better understanding of what I’ve been feeling these past couple of days. You see, he thought regardless of others around me, that I had forgotten about him. I have not, nor ever will. He’s still my rock and my strength, even when I don’t think there’s any strength around me. I love him so much and I am so very blessed that he’s in my life, and that he stays by my side through all of this. I’m not sure many people would be able to do that, and I’m seeing more and more are leaving because of it.
So, when I say “all this”, you would have to read all of my blogs to get a sense of what I’ve been through in this disease, then spend time with me, at home and at my doctors. Then maybe a little bit of enlightenment will be had. But truly, unless you have the disease, it’s very hard to understand what goes on in our life and in our minds. Even as my husband has been by my side through every horrible minute, he understands a great deal and it breaks his heart over and over, but still, he has no idea what my thoughts are, nor what my breaking point is anymore. Though, at times, neither do I. They are now more spontaneous, as I’m progressing more into this fog of uncertainty.
There’s no one out there that can tell either myself or fellow PWD friends, when and how we will progress or live. They have great assumptions by testing and previous people with the same symptoms. But no one really knows. But the one fact that I have found over countless years of my own research, that no one has lived past ten years from their diagnosis. Now, I’m no expert, but ten years from their diagnosis is a broad range in my mind. You see, when you are diagnosed, there’s no definitive test you take to say yes or no. It involves months to years of testing of great multitudes till many experts finally agree that this is what you have. So who knows how many years before you actually started showing the signs. Ten years, huh? Well I’ve been officially diagnosed since 2011. That means I have about 6 years left, if I’m “lucky”. That’s without any complications of any other diseases or illnesses that come along when your immune system is put to the test over and over. Well, I have not only Early Onset of Alzheimer’s but I also have Chorea and Dystonia along with a few other medical issues that interfere with these diseases. And when I say interfere, I mean “deadly” interferences. As I’m dealing with now, with my breathing problems, part of my liver not working and fluid around my heart. So, yes, this has not been easy.
But through these years and all of this, I held onto this thread of hope. This future I called it in “Tears”, that would lead me to some comfort, happiness, and surrounded by those dear to me in my last few years. Also, never giving up hope in those years for a miracle cure or even a miracle to slow down the process by a few more years. When that was taken away from me I was truly lost.
My husband told me tonight that no matter what I’ve been through, I always got through it and found the “silver lining” within every trial. Yesterday, a friend, Tru, sent me a beautiful blog she wrote to help me find that silver lining. I’m still escaping in my own mind right now because it’s the only way for me to cope, but I do hold out for that little miracle Tru gave me, through words of her own, that I know I need. Hopefully as the sun rises again tomorrow, maybe this fog will lift enough to process and understand what I’m reading and be able to move forward. But as of tonight, I still see no reason to go on. That’s why I’m so scared, still.
In life I know many of us go through so many ups and downs. That we encounter things that completely break us and we try and figure out for years to come on how to survive it and live again. I’ve been lucky with my “encounters” to always fight back and to reclaim my own life again. I just can’t seem to figure out how to do it this time. I wish I could, boy do I wish I could.
As I close, I’m sorry to those I love. I’m sorry that I can’t seem to find that fight and hope. But, one thing I’ve learned from another great friend, even though I was extremely hesitant when she shared with me about doing a blog, that I am still writing. I am still sharing. Maybe that’s my new escape, and that’s ok too. It may not be an answer to what I need right now, and I know within it it may not be what stops me from giving up, but I’m still sharing, writing and expressing how I feel. Again, you know by now how private I am, so I guess this is after all a good thing. We will see …
We all cry at some point in our lives. Either from the loss of a loved one, illness, accident, losing a job, weddings, birth of a child and even movies. Men and women. Adult and child. Good times and bad times. We all cry.
Some of us are able to control are crying much easier than others. Only sniffle a bit with a death or a new baby. Others cry over everything, good or bad. Neither is wrong. To cry is normal and expresses our feelings.
I remember the birth of my two kids. I cried tears of joy. I remember the death of my brother and my dad .. tears of unbearable pain. But in between, I pretty much held it together except in a crisis or accident. I tried to be the “tough” one and not show others any kind of weakness, regardless of the situation. I succeeded and failed here and there.
When I became ill, I think I was more in shock than actually ever feeling myself being brought to tears. Then my emotions shifted and then came the anger, the depression, the fight, the feeling of “being in and out of hospitals and poked and prodded” becoming my “normal way of living”. I still didn’t cry over the disease. I did cry here and there from frustration at times though. When things just got too much to handle, I guess.
I talk about the degrees of pain I’ve been through over the last five years and how I’ve coped, and not coped. I talk about the feelings inside my head more than any words I said out loud. I also talk about the hopelessness that seems to still hinder me daily.
Then came yesterday and today – tears, and a lot of them. The disease? I’m sure someone could say the tears are because of that. An emotion I can’t quite control as well as I used to when something happened so pronounced in my life, that it just grabbed me, took my breath away, and shook me to my core. I finally cannot just “tough” it out and not show others my pain.
You see, I’ve lost control over most aspects of my life as you know from my previous blogs. I’ve lost my independence and ability to work. These two things are what took me to a new place yesterday that I’m not sure I know how to get out of. Yes, I already lost those two things years ago, but the realization again of such important human traits, broke me yet again. I see no fixing this feeling this time.
You see, my husband and I always had a plan. Yes, life throws curve balls at you when you have plans and goals, but the end result is still there, and you just bend around the shots that are thrown at you. Well, our plan and goal has been changed and cannot be undone. I am at a loss and instead of the “old me” being able to be that optimistic person and look for a way around it, I am now a person who can’t see a positive outcome, no matter which way I look.
What little bit of hope that kept me going is gone now. Am I back where I was years ago with no reason to live? I truly can’t answer that right now.
Am I looking for attention or someone to change in order to help me – no not at all. Because that would be unfair and not what I’m truly made of – no matter how bad my disease is, I will never give up that trait.
But what do I do now? How can I even face another day knowing that this isn’t going away? I can’t answer either question. The disease? Definitely. Anger again – yep. I loathe this disease and what it’s done to me.
So, I’ve “escaped” again to my room, to sleep, to dreams and nightmares. Trying not to face reality or anyone in my life right now. I wish I could say it’s helping, but it’s not. That’s why I’m writing this now.
I’ve shut everyone out and I feel like I did 376 days ago when I lost my best friend, my dad. I’ve suffered another loss, but not by death this time. In this disease though it feels the same to me.
As I’m typing this, I honestly don’t even know if at the end I will be able to even publish this. In my first blog I mentioned how much of a private person I am and this blog (though without actually saying exactly what has happened) is much more raw than anything I’ve ever written before. It’s too personal, too much insight into my life and to show my vulnerability is very hard, if not impossible. So if you are reading this, I took that leap. Not for comments or for anyone to reach out to me, but just because I needed to share what I can’t handle right now.
I wish I had someone to ask, and even if I did, there’s really no answer to the question. No solution. No hope.
I don’t know what I’m going to do. I’ve probably already said that by now. But it’s still there – the unknown. The desperation and again, the hopelessness.
How can someone like me who is sick bounce back from this? Please don’t say from the help and support of my family and friends. They can’t help. Not from the size of this impact in my life. I can’t even be there for my husband as he’s trying to deal with this too. Another thing that’s breaking me apart from the inside. I can’t be strong enough for myself or for him anymore.
How do I end this blog? I don’t know that either. I’m truly heartbroken. I wish for so many things. I wish some things had never changed and I wish some things had never happened. I wish I still had a plan in place, a hopeful future to go where I need to be and to be happy once again. I don’t even know what it’s like to be “happy” anymore. I’m so sad and I’ve sacrificed so much already – I don’t have anything left. I know I couldn’t have given anymore than I had, and looking back, obviously none of what I did mattered anyways. If it did, things would be different.
I will pray again tonight as I did yesterday and all day today. I know God can move mountains and miracles happen everyday, but I feel that nothing will change this time.
What’s my direction? I don’t know. Hopefully tomorrow I will find it and be able to share it. If not, more “escaping” and just staying in the dark….
I’m not going to “sugar coat” this one.. I can’t – too personal and way too much of it has surrounded me recently that it has overtaken all of my thoughts – night and day.
Anger – yep, going with another word. Where to even begin with that one.
It’s gotten so tough reading and reaching out and having others reach back to me who have the same disease as I – – but not for the reason you may think. It’s because it’s heartbreaking to hear, that horrible feeling that I can’t help any of them, and an anger of hearing the lack of respect, help and understanding from others in their lives or from those they encounter.
I recently read an article written by a world renown doctor whose speciality is dealing with those with Alzheimer’s and Dementia. Her blog is followed by many, so this particular statement of hers was really heartbreaking for me to read: “But reasoning is an ineffective strategy when you are working with someone who is no longer capable of reasoning. To be frank, it doesn’t work to explain things to people with dementia. It’s not that they’re not smart. It’s that their brain is dying.” (FYI: There was much more to this particular article, but this part is what stuck out most to me)
First off I truly do learn a lot from this doctor’s articles and experiences and respect her greatly, but this one quote definitely put me off as an opinion of what an “expert” has to say regarding such a huge human issue and quality.
Explaining: First of all depending on what stage a person is in – this blunt quote could be a huge detriment for those with the disease. Just because we are diagnosed, doesn’t mean we are all in the same stage of reasoning. I reason quite well in certain areas and I’m in the beginning of stage 6 (there are 7 stages of Alzheimer’s). When others explain things to me – it’s not a waste of time or that I’m incapable of understanding (again, a quote from someone who observes, not from someone with the disease – a huge difference). I just have to process it differently than before. I may start a task, and yes, forget what I’m doing in the middle of it. I may be told how something works with my meds or procedures, and yes, I may forget some of what I was just told, but I still “know” what’s going on around me. Is it a “waste of time” – absolutely not. Is it a waste of time for those without a disease to explain something to someone who feels their “right” and you’re wrong? No, of course not. If we dont discuss situations with everyone regarding every subject known to man, then how can humankind ever get anywhere? Just because we are sick doesn’t make us any less of a person – we are still humans and a person with feelings and a soul.
I think if you are just going to give up on someone that is ill because you feel its a waste of time, then I’m scared to death for the majority of the world’s population with whatever disease, illness, stress, anxiety or a life changing event that they have. How would you feel if someone told you that you’re just not worth it anymore? Yes, tough subject, but if you don’t discuss it, then when I get worse, and/or others start showing signs of this disease, who will be there to help us? Put us all away in some institution because in your mind we can’t “reason” the way you think a human being should “reason”? Who makes you that person to decide what a person’s reasoning should be?
Yes, this post has a lot of anger and I know I shouldn’t be angry, but at some point when you continue to be a punching bag because of your illness, you have to speak up. I’m still here, in the flesh, with a working mind and body (even if some of it is bent and broken). And I’m not the only one out there.
Before you express such a personal statement about something that you do not physically deal with, think about what kind of impact that it can have on those with it, their family members and society as a whole. No wonder I’m surrounded by prejudicism daily. You don’t think that’s possible? Ask any of us. It happens more than you know.
My life revolves around a world filled with “stereotypes” and as we all fight for equality and individual rights – we forget about those who battle with an illness. We focus on those who are healthy, who have a bright future and the “what” that they will be able to contribute to this world. But you forget about the millions who are sick and are still in this world too, who should have the same exact rights.
Hmmmm – regardless of gender, age, race, creed, sex, lifestyle or illness! Equality involves all of us. Let’s start living it instead of just talking about it.
“There’s No Life That Isn’t Worth Living, There’s No Person That’s Not Needed”
“Every Life Has A Purpose”
I was reminded today by a memory of how life just keeps moving on.
We lost a dear friend recently and a cousin and father last year, but life kept going on. I know what it was like when my dad passed, and yes, I tend to repeat that fact in most of my blogs – I guess that tells you how much I was truly affected by it. But even though I lived through such a huge loss, it was easy to keep moving on with things in my world, mind and life as another person was suffering their own loss. I know none of us ever truly forget or mean to “ignore” the fact of it, but we still continue on with our work, kids, routines and personal stuff. As time goes by we forget even more about the “casualties” left behind from such events.
I know I was forgotten, as was my mom. It wasn’t out of any intentional harm or disregard, but it’s definitely a “rude awakening” when you realize how much you have continued on, when someone you know is dealing with the same thing you had dealt with.
I was told this past year I was suffering from PTSD from the loss of my dad. Never thought that word would mean the same thing as it’s used to describe one of our own brothers and/or sisters in the military returning home. I truly thought that was what PTSD was really about. But I guess I was wrong, according to some psych person along the way I routinely have to see due to my disease.
But I did reference the definition and this is what I came across: Post traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) may develop after a person is exposed to one or more traumatic events, such as sexual assault, warfare, serious injury, or threats of imminent death. The diagnosis may be given when a group of symptoms, such as disturbing recurring flashbacks, avoidance or numbing of memories of the event, and hyperarousal (fight or flight), continue for more than a month after the occurrence of a traumatic event. Most people having experienced a traumatizing event will not develop PTSD. People who experience assault-based trauma are more likely to develop PTSD, as opposed to people who experience non-assault based trauma such as witnessing trauma, accidents, and fire events. War veterans are commonly at risk for PTSD.
Hmmm – I definitely doubt I fit into that category. Yes, I experienced a traumatic event but I don’t have flashbacks or avoidance. I fit into the part of being in a “non-assault” based trauma. Then yesterday, one of my loved ones commented that they doubted PTSD defined me as well. They seen me a year ago as being in more of a “defense” mode. Facing the reality of the situation and dealing with it efficiently, organizing things to be done, making sure everyone else is ok and then finishing up the paperwork and such needs after the death of my loved one. They feel I truly never had time to grieve, even with the fact that everyone grieves differently. After they mentioned this to me I started thinking. Am I just dealing with it in “my own way” or is this something I needed to explore further.
Well, today, 2/2/15 – I guess I’m still dealing with it. Yes, I post pictures and write posts to remind myself of the loss I dealt with and to show the joy and love I had with my dad. But I do realize many others have experienced the same thing. I guess me putting it out there again is just reminding me of what a great dad I had and how much I miss him. I do the same thing on my brother’s birthday and the day he passed as well.
Is it right or wrong? I don’t think anyone can tell me either way specifically since we all do grieve differently. But today really made me think more about my friend who is now left behind and picking up the pieces.
How do I help? First of all, I’m in a different state now. Secondly, I’m too afraid to reach out too much and seem pushy. Thirdly, from my experience, at some point you want to be left alone to “deal with it”, but feeling at the same time, afraid of being left all by yourself.
I don’t want to ignore or forget. I don’t want to seem too pushy nor seem like I don’t care either. I just sit here thinking what can I do? Are there people close by for my friend to help her and get her through this the best way that they can? But eventually they will still go on living their own lives. It’s what we have to do to still survive. Go back to work, school or be a parent or a partner to someone else.
My thoughts are still with my friend now. Wishing I was closer to where she lives and able to relate what I can, that I understand what she’s going through.
Do we all tend to just turn away from the hurt and pain too? Easier to ignore and move on than to relive it everyday. For me, I walk past my dad’s room everyday. That involves memories of good times but also of the fact that he passed in “that” room not long ago.
I still don’t have any answers to any of my questions. I may never find the answers or a solution to make it easier. I just hope and pray that someone won’t forget my dear friend and be there for her as she settles back into a “normal” routine, whatever that looks like. I pray that someone will be there to listen and/or to just sit with and lend a shoulder to cry on, no matter what time of day.
Have I gotten over my personal experience – nope and I’m not sure I ever will. Time does not heal everything. I think we just keep building up deeper scars that heal, reopen, heal, and break our hearts again – over and over.
So my blog tonight is about “not forgetting” a friend or a loved one that is left behind to deal with grief and help them in trying to find that niche of a life they are now living alone.
I wish someone would have done it for me at some point in the last 368 days ….
It’s been a year today. I don’t even know how the time had gone by so fast. I remember it as clear as if it happened yesterday.
I know God had a time for you to go home dad and I know you are no longer suffering and no longer in pain. But the emptiness inside of me is still there. I thought it would get easier, but it hasn’t, only worse. A loss that still tears me up and I miss you so much.
I was your baby girl and you were my best friend. I could come to you with tears in my eyes, with laughter and joy, and stories that lit your eyes up in hearing of all my travels throughout my years.
You were only 76 and I was only 43. I’ll always remember your strength and your fight to the very end. Also, your passion for God and your one of a kind sense of humor. You were always saying how the doctors were all wrong. And dad, you were right. You were in multiple car accidents including a car slamming into the back of your own car while you were under the hood of it, working on it, and it ran you over and tossed you aside like a rag doll – and you survived! You then had multiple heart attacks and then an unheard of, a 7 (out of 8) bypass open heart surgery – a walking miracle – the odds were only 7% in your favor – and you beat them! Then you had a massive stroke days later. Again, about a 20% chance to survive and you beat those odds too. You then came back from that stroke to an astounding 90% recovery. You also had prostate cancer and they gave you 2 years to live. Well that was about 6 years before you passed – yep, beat that too.
But you did pass away ~ January 30th, 2014 at 11:30am. But not from anything the doctors said you would. You closed your eyes and went to sleep. Your body had fought the good fight and you took your last breath while you were asleep. You were home with us where you wanted to be and you were not in any pain at all. You had smiled and laughed that morning. Our pup Tucker had jumped on your bed and kissed you and layed with you for a bit. You were always his favorite 🙂 In the end your heart was still pumping and your cancer was still nowhere near fatal. You went out of this world on your own terms. You even waited when I had walked out the door to get your medicine, after kissing you on the forehead, telling you I would be right back, and when Sean, your best friend you told me once, had stepped out of your room into the kitchen, only a few feet away, to get you more ice chips. In just less than a moment you were gone.
Yes Pa, it was a pain beyond anything I had ever experienced. I remember Sean’s frantic call for me to get back here as soon as possible, but not telling me why. I remember thinking – it can’t be. He must be in a lot of pain or needing an ambulance again. I doubted, but I think deep down I knew, somehow. I didn’t get to say goodbye. As I flew through the door you had all ready drifted away. You were at peace, that I remember. But I questioned everything I had done that morning. Could I have changed the outcome. I blamed myself repeatedly, and still do. I don’t remember if I had told you enough times how much I loved you and how much I appreciated every single thing you ever did for me in my lifetime. I couldn’t let go, I kept holding your hand and wishing, praying, crying and screaming for you to just open your eyes one more time. I needed to tell you how much I loved you and to thank you for being my daddy.
Dad, you taught me so many things since I can remember. From riding a bicycle, skiing, sledding and fishing. How to shoot a gun and a bow and arrow. How to ride a motorcycle and drive a car. How to work hard and to never be dependent on anything, but be independent completely. You taught me how to work on cars, work on things around the house and how to fix a wide array of things to make sure I was well-rounded and not afraid to tackle anything. You taught me to fight back and to never ever give in. You also gave me the great gift to never give up. To go for any goal I put before me and to succeed even when others said I couldn’t.
I hope I made you proud. I hope when you were still here with us that when you thought of me that it made you smile and you had seen yourself within me.
I know I got your strength and love for life. I got your great appreciation for this world that God gave us and to never take any of it for granted. I have lived each of my days so far to the best that I could. I also got your stubbornness and your attitude – which I am saying I’m proud to have.
I hold onto each moment. You living with us, chasing the hurricane in North Carolina, the 1000 Islands cottage, the road trips and the endless times you were by my side through each illness as it hit me.
It’s been a tough year yes. Many changes around here. You became a great grandpa again three times, and a great, great grandpa too – all to beautiful and healthy baby boys and girls. We finally got custody of Sean’s beautiful daughter, Claudia. Something you helped us to do months before you passed. She’s a beautiful blessing in our lives, and I’m so thankful to God for her. I’ve seen and talked more to family than ever before. I think death reminds us how short life is and how precious each moment is to have. Mom has gotten sicker but she still has that beautiful smile and wonderful sense of humor you loved so much. She still reminisces about you and misses you with all her heart and soul. Gage and Mercedes both graduated college. You were always so proud of them. I remember when Gage was born and how you held him in your arms hours at a time. He was always your little buddy and you always commented how his smile lit up any room at anytime. I remember after Mercedes was born too and how proud you were of her and how much you loved that she looked so much like you and shared your chin and your smile. They loved you so much and you were always there for them as you were with me.
I’m still fighting my battle too dad with this horrible disease. But the fight is what matters. You always told me to think positively and never give up regardless of what the doctors had to say. I still do that each day. Sean has also had some medical problems, but he told me recently when he was in the hospital – that he learned a lot from you. To fight back also, to remember to hold onto those who care about you the most and at one moment, he said “wow, you sound just like your dad” – that I couldn’t be prouder to hear. I always wanted to be just like you. To share your wisdom and try to be the “glue” that held everyone together, like you did. Your quiet silence, your knowing eyes, your calm attitude towards everything that was ever thrown at you, is what I cherish and remember the most. Thank you for all those things dad.
I miss you daddy and I will never be able to say that enough. I still wish for you to be here but I know it’s being selfish. But I do know I will see you again in Heaven.
Hold my brother’s hand, sit by our Lord’s feet and be healed and be blessed. He made you my dad not by chance or coincidence, but for a reason and I am so very thankful for that precious gift He gave me to call you my daddy. Our time together will be the best moments of my life. Thank you for loving me.
I love you Pa,
This year I have heard many beautiful words, comments, adoration, inspiration and compliments. None I feel that I can possibly own up to. I’m not a fake, just human. I was blessed by God by two beautiful parents who taught me early on to love God first, love yourself for whom God made you to be, then love all others as equals. I tried the best that I could to try to fill those shoes that both my parents set before me. I failed, I succeeded, but no matter what, I still remember those exact words and the heartfelt feelings behind them.
I’ve also heard words of doubt from some. Some random sentiments that this inspiration I am to some, isn’t real. And that’s ok. To some I’m sure it’s not. I know for me, I don’t see myself as inspiration, only God shining through me outwardly towards others. If that’s inspiration, motivation, fight and endurance, then I’m extremely blessed. But no credit to me at all.
Right now I have brothers blessed to me in my life by God as family and as friends in Christ. I know of one that has passed, whom taught me and many others so many of God’s laws and what Faith, Hope and Love truly mean. As other brothers are struggling right now in different ways, I see that no matter what, their reactions are still so steadfast and honorary to who they truly are. I ask for prayer for them and for me, to not say random words or opinions, but only God’s words and promises.
I believe each of us struggle daily with doubt and fear. Those who believe in Christ feel this every waking moment and for those who don’t believe, feel it – not as loss, but of the unknown. Are any of us wrong? No. We are human. We all have freedom of choice and that was a gift to each of us as we were born and grew up to be adults. No matter what we say or do, someone will always find fault in it. We just need to remember, that this is also ok. It doesn’t matter our differences, our religions, our beliefs, our race, color, creed, gender, age or orientation. We are each equal and should be loved by all with no bias.
I want to thank a brother in Christ, Obi, whom I had the privilege to get to know and to work with. Through struggle and happiness, he has shown me that the Holy Spirit inside of us is all that truly matters. We both experienced an absolute heartbreaking time with a person and/or person(s) that disappointed us. Who we looked up to – knowing in God’s eyes we were all equal – but a person whom gave us love and their own experience in learning more and more about God. But then, as humans, these person(s) showed us and reacted to us in different situations that just left us speechless. No, we aren’t perfect, nor are they. But it made us turn away from something we needed, something we leaned on in a sanctuary for support and fortitude. Luckily, for me, I’ve always been quick to be hurt, but then even quicker to forgive. I wish for my friend and I, that we never went through this, but we did. We learned, experienced and now, moved on to be lead to where we were truly meant to be.
My point is simply this. No person, no church, no material thing will ever be perfect. All will falter or break and some will not be there for the remainder of our lives. But how we handle what is thrown at us is what truly shows others what we are made of. What strength we have gained and what stamina we have to continue through the fight. Each of us has a family member, a friend or sometimes even a stranger – whom will always be there for us to lean on till we can stand tall again. Not defeated, a bit broken, but healing. However we look at things in our lives each morning we wake, we should look at it as an opportunity to spread love and kindness and strive for change in this hectic and chaotic world.
A dear friend of mine, Mariah, who battled and whom is still battling a crippling incident in her life, decided to start writing what this past year has been like. Her feelings, experiences, her hopelessness and her willing to fight against all odds. She’s shown me how good it is to share this to others. I personally struggle daily with many depths of pain. Internal and external. Physically and Mentally. I’m diagnosed with many different things, but the most difficult is my Early-Onset of Alzheimer’s and Chorea. I feel none of this is a weakness nor a punishment, but a learning experience. A trial to go through and to come out on the other side with more understanding and with more peace. I don’t know if I can ever reach the potential as my dear friend to share my journey, but as long as I can still type, I will try to possibly get out there, more understanding for those of us living with a detrimental and debilitating condition.
These are just some of my random thoughts I felt pressed to share. To whomever it helps, it will be more than I could ever ask for.
I’m not this strong person whom some keep looking to for encouragement. I’m just a vessel that God created to show His love through.
Thank you for listening and I apologize to whomever I offended and for lacking in words written correctly, as I’ve lost most of that part of my creativeness. I have not given up nor ignored what is going on with me physically and mentally, but to just relate to others that I am me.