Coming back from Mayo clinic has brought on a whirlwind of change in my life, which in turn has brought a lot of change to those close to me.
I sit here on a couch, having taught my son how to help me off of said couch. He is truly a beautiful child, all three are. My son smiles when he pulls me to my feet. He pales at me tears and he directs my service dog to my side.
I am learning a great deal of things about myself. I am learning about the hurts I have caused, I am learning about the perspectives others have around me; because of me. Though I know that in this haze I am not entirely at fault, it would seem that I am sinking in the pains of those who feel great pain because of me.
My ghost has a name. It has many names, I will now, until I die, dance with this ghost; though now at least when we dance I can call it by name.
The veil having been lifted by a change in my body I feel as though I am awaking from a dream. Who is this person I am living inside. Who is this person that could hold in that pain? Who is this person who could ask another person to love me enough to wait for me to find my way through the haze? How unfair when I myself had no way of truly knowing my own way out, who truly needed her hand held.
I have sat for years with a body that was not quite functioning. I sat crocheting small and large projects giving me time to sort the thoughts that swarmed in my mind.
At times I could push through the fog and have the most beautiful energy. I could fight my way through. Recently I found that I can still do this though I do have to consider the ghost.
Waking up is the swarm that swirls in my head, it is the pain of a ghost, it is the fear of no longer knowing who I am, it is the dread of the pain that I have driven into people. Waking up realization that I woke because I finally found strength, it is the understanding that this is going to be one grand fight.
Who is this who has waken from a haze?