You survived. You lived. Now what?
How do you pick up all the shattered pieces, let go of the things you canāt have or never will be again? How do you take pride in the new things youāve found?
Healing...has been different than I expected. I thought it would be more black and white than this disease. I thought it would be more...whole. I didnāt think I would be as daring. I didnāt think I would be as scared. I didnāt think I would be as lost. I didnāt think I would still break down.
How do you do this? How do you heal? The same way you lived. ...day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute, second by second. Laugh by laugh, tear by tear, scream by scream, breath by breath. Giving yourself grace, giving yourself permission to grieve, giving yourself permission to live. Never forgetting, never taking for granted, never giving up - never leaving the fight.
āIt's not simple to say,
That most days I don't recognize me.
I'm not anything like I used be, although it's true.
I still remember that girl.
She's imperfect, but she tries.
She is good, but she lies.
She is broken and won't ask for help.
She is messy, but she's kind.
She is lonely most of the time.
She is all of this mixed up and baked in a beautiful pie.
She is gone, but she used to be mine.
It's not what I asked for,
Sometimes life just slips in through a back door,
And carves out a person and makes you believe it's all true.
And you're not what I asked for.
If I'm honest, I know I would give it all back,
For a chance to start over and rewrite an ending or two.
For the girl that I knew.
Who'll be reckless, just enough.
Who'll get hurt, but who learns how to toughen up.
And be scared of the life that's inside her,
Growing stronger each day 'til it finally reminds her.
To fight just a little, to bring back the fire in her eyes,
That's been gone, but used to be mine.
She is messy, but she's kind.
She is lonely most of the time.
She is gone, but she used to be mine.ā
