It’s been a little while since I have taken the time to write a new blog. I was planning on writing one today and it’s quite funny how God just created some of the most perfect moments for me to write about today.
Today is the my Grandma’s 1st Heavenly Birthday, as she left us a year ago today. We just celebrated Thanksgiving back in the Tri Cities with my wonderful family, and with holidays comes many thoughts of Rowyn of course. I mostly noticed it harder for me to see her photos, I felt down when I thought of her family, and almost wanted to bury my face in a pillow for one of those extremely long naps I had gotten so used to taken months ago. We are a couple days away from releasing this book, which is the story in its entirety. The most intimate things that only few know will be shared. Even things I’ve felt in my heart, but maybe never even said aloud, can be found in this book. As one can imagine, I was pretty ready for my therapy appointment at 1:00 today.
As I was driving to work this morning I was talking aloud to the Lord. As I do very often in my prayers, I ask for God to allow me to see things through his eyes and feel things as only his heart would feel them. I pray for my mind to work in the way he designed it to, and to replace all negative thoughts with his thoughts.
When I went into therapy this afternoon it had been a few weeks since I had been there. When Chris asked me how I was doing I sputtered off much of what I had written above, but I also included that my son is turning two tomorrow. It’s a milestone that Rowyn would have hit next, had the accident not happened. It’s like I cannot think about my son turning two, without thinking about her not turning two here on Earth. The session went on to talk a lot about all of the positive things that have come from the accident. How much of an impact she has made in so many peoples lives. What an inspiration she is to so many of us, like a guiding light. We discussed courage and strength, and how Brynn and I have gained that through Rowyn.
Towards the end of the session I started talking to her about my medication. The newest med, Wellbutrin, I started about 4 or so months ago. I told her that I am just not sure about this medication because I feel like I’m gaining weight without doing anything different. As she kept looking down at her paperwork and filling some items out she asked me how much weight. I explained that I didn’t have an exact number but yah basically I’d like to lose about 40 pounds. (HA). I told her the problem is that I feel like I need to taper off the medication because I don’t want to gain the weight. However, I feel better than I have in a really really really really long time. Is it the medication? She looked up and said, “I am going to tell you something that I know you already know, but there are a lot worse things that could be happening to you.” I agreed, yes I did know that. Yes, she is right. It is scary though, I started taking this medication because I couldn’t stop sleeping, I had no energy and I physically felt the depression. This was to give me a little boost. It has worked.
Just as she saw me realizing it, she began to painted a visual picture of myself for me over the last year and a couple of months. She explained that when I came into her office in September 2014, I was completely broken. In unimaginable pain, and begging her to help me fix it. She admits that she knew nothing about this kind of grief, that she has dealt with clients with PTSD, loss, depression, etc. but that this was foreign territory for even her. She consulted with her
colleagues about me, what could she expect to see from me. She showed me how I begged and fought to become who I used to be. How I thought I would be able to just move past it, even if I knew I couldn’t. She described to me different milestones in my treatment, where I began to understand what I was going through, accept the feelings and what had happened, and want to move forward. Begging to become someone new. The setbacks, and then the progress. I told her that I can’t even imagine what that person looked like in her office last year. She told me that I have surpassed anything she could have expected. She asked me this, “When someone punches your arm you feel the pain, right?” “Yes,” I said. “But when the pain from the punch starts to go away, do you feel that?” “No,” I said. There it was. Of course I didn’t see it.
She knows Rowyn gave us strength and courage too. Today, I felt my heart feel what he felt, my eyes see things the way he sees them, and I caught my mind replacing the negative thoughts and working the way he wants it to.
God has blessed me.