Re-Learning to Breathe

This is hard.

Each day I battle fear and I hate it.

I want to be confident in my healing, but instead I wrestle with anxiety. I fear that I am not healing correctly, that those bruises aren't supposed to be there, that maybe that scar looks funny. I worry that my breathing should be better, that the little pain I feel is something more.

I try to distract myself with work, television, and chores, but I still have to remind myself to breathe, to pray, to trust.

At one point during recovery I ended up in the ER. I think that shook me. It made me realize that things can go wrong. Thankfully everything ended up fine, but it was a scary few hours.

Googling things also does not help. Trust me, if you have cancer or surgery or even a cough, do not google it. The stories out there are awful and definitely not helpful.

I hate that I am still so tired. I walk outside with the dog and my chest begins to hurt (probably anxiety) and my breath shortens the farther we stroll. Granted we have been having average temperatures of over 100 degrees, but still, its frustrating.

Fear and anxiety add to chest pain. I know that. So daily, at least 10 times, I have to remind myself to breathe. Deeply in and deeply out. Ironically, after surgery I had to relearn how to breathe. A machine would beep every few minutes as I lost oxygen. Every hour I would have to practice breathing more deeply. Turns out 3 weeks post-op, not much has changed.

I am still learning to breathe in the peace of the Holy Spirit and breathe out fear.

And let me tell you. . . despite my positivity. . .

it is really really hard. 

Comments

  1. UnknownJuly 29, 2018 at 12:24 PM

    Meredith thank you for your honesty. You are in a very difficult place and it is so hard. We all have anxieties and fears and it is sometimes nice to hear we’re not alone in that. You have encouraged me today. I love you so much! The savior is right next to you as you wrestle with fear. He has been there. He understands.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Endings and Beginnings

 I've had a lot of endings that are also beginnings.  In fact, I've lived in Jeff's house for 3.5 years and that's the longest I've lived in a single home since I left Virginia at the age of 16. For over half of my life I have been without roots. I've lived in 9 homes in the last 12 years. That is absurd.  And the truth is, I don't want to be rootless anymore. I want to settle in, build something I am proud of, and never have to pack another moving box in my life. This restless, wandering soul wants to plant my feet on the same ground for more years than I can count and raise my daughter like I was raised in Virginia- with lasting friends and mother-daughter book clubs and people you grow up with. I haven't had a single place I've felt was truly my home since I left Richmond as a teenager, and I am ready to change that.  So in one week, we move to Tennessee. It is a place where a lot of our dreams lie. It is where Jeff will continue a career that he
Read more

Faith Within Suffering

 I didn't talk about God for a while.  When I was younger, I never stopped. My oldest friend and I laughed last weekend about how I would pray for her to attend church when we were kids and tell her about my prayers. When I was in college, it was my purpose. On the reservation it was my profession.  When the waves of suffering hit, I still professed God's goodness for a while, but eventually it became too much. The waves kept knocking me down every time I tried to get up. I was sick in a cancer ward. My relationship with church completely upended. My marriage destroyed.  I stopped talking about my God because I couldn't make sense of my suffering or anyone else's pain. I didn't have any of my youthful certainty. I just had a whole bunch of questions and a whole lot of anger.  Until life got better. Until I got perspective. Until I stood in the snow among the Tetons and said to the wind, "Ok, God, I'm ready. Let's do this again. I'm with you." 
Read more

Five Years After the Divorce

Image
It has been five years, this December, since a judge declared my marriage officially over. It was the culmination of the worst season of my whole life. It was the end of something I had believed was forever. It was a season of bitter tears, struggles with depression and thoughts of suicide, and complete and utter hopelessness. Everything I had believed in had been shattered and in the end, I hadn't been chosen by the one who I chose to marry. I believed the false narrative that I hadn't been good enough, strong enough, or healthy enough. I was certain happiness would never find me again.  Over the next five years, I had to rediscover myself. I had to relearn my strength, my worth, my value. I had to heal from what had happened. I had to be angry and learn how to let that anger go. I lost my relationship with church and grew new relationships with a team of doctors when I got a cancer diagnosis just four months after my divorce was finalized. I had to figure out who God was, who
Read more