Thursday, July 22, 2010

Roller Coasters Save My Soul.

When I was a little girl, I was terrified of roller coasters. The one time I went as a child, I screamed bloody murder the whole way down for them to let me off. It was just too scary for me, the falling and the rush. It was all just too much.

But then, when I was 13, I went to Six Flags with some friends. Of course they all wanted to ride the Batman coaster, and understood that I was scared. But I didn't want to be left behind without my friends. So I went. I closed my eyes, held on tight and tried to breathe. And once I faced my fears, I found that the roller coaster was no longer one of them.

Years later, I love roller coasters. The rush and the falling no longer terrify me. In fact, they save my soul.

I have so much built up inside of me. So much hurt and anger over this illness and how it is affecting me. Not worrying about college and Crohn's (dorm room here I come!), or stupid doctors telling me all the EXTRA tests I need. Trying to remember not to let Crohn's define me.

So when that roller coaster reaches the top of the hill, I open my eyes wide and lift my arms high above my head and LET IT ALL GO. Let the wind wash away the pain, let the speed take away my worries, let the rush remind me there is a whole world ahead of me.

"You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, "I have lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along. You must do the thing you think you cannot do."

-Eleanor Roosevelt

I plan on it.

M

Sunday, July 11, 2010

Moments

So, this time, a year ago, I was MISERABLE.
I was sickly and broken, and I had no idea what was wrong with me.

A year later, I strive to remember that time.
Frankly, I don't remember a whole lot about it. I think I was too miserable to really store certain memories. I remember moments.

I remember begging my coworkers...AGAIN...to watch the cafe so I could excuse myself.

I remember being suprised that my skirt was too big...because a week earlier, it was fine.

I remember eating lunch with my mom, and trying my hardest to just eat my food, but every single bite made me want to run to the bathroom and just hide.

I remember counting down the minutes until I could excuse myself from company without seeming rude or weird.

I remember wondering if I would ever get better.

A year later? I can eat my food without excusing myself multiple times.

My clothes don't have to be replaced weekly.

My coworkers don't have to rush to my aid every hour.

And it's nice. It's normal again. And that is all I ever really wanted.

But I don't think I'll ever forget those moments.

Those are the kind that simply change you.

M