You Are Tougher Than You Think

There are a handful of things I've been keeping from you. First thing is...I started this blog as a college assignment. Wild right? A class assignment was to start a blog and talk about something you were a "professional" at. Well, I'm really good at being sick. So why not talk about everything in a format like this. It was temporary. So why not bare some of the deepest parts of myself. If anything, it would get me a stellar grade. Well, it did get me that grade, but that wasn’t enough for me. I have a story and I might as well use it for good. The day I decided to continue this blog is the day I promised to myself, and you, that I would continue to put it all out there. Problem is…I keep things from you. I make this blog look like I have it together. I get handed a bad hand but I’m a fighter. I’ll be fine. Blah blah blah. If I was being completely honest, I was holding it together for a while. Until about a month ago. I really thought diabetes was going to be enough ...

For the longest time I didn’t truly understand what trauma meant. I didn’t believe you could have PTSD without seeing wartime. I was very wrong. In the past couple of years, I have been trying to understand and learn from my traumas. Of course, they will never go away but understanding and accepting them helps. This year, between work, life, and everything else, I planned my yearly post-transplant check up on the same week as my actual transplantaversary. Looking back now that was a huge mistake. There is a certain type of anxiety leading up to the anniversary and a very different anxiety leading up to going back to where it all began. This year not only did I have to face those head on but I had to face the fact that: My Islet Cells are probably not working well, if at all I am officially insulin dependent For the longest time I really thought I would have an ostomy bag before I ever had to have a constant glucose monitor and an insulin pump but here we are! While placing my first eve...

Looking back at the last 10 years some crazy things have happened. This year in itself has been challenging. I started the year (literally January 1, 2020) by leaving a toxic relationship. I took the year to figure out what I wanted in a relationship and loving myself again. I focused on forgiving myself and being kind to myself. Then the pandemic hit. Everyone I know struggled through the pandemic in their own way. For me it was a lot of worry, anxiety, depression. But I got through because I have an amazing support system and an amazing dog. Then the worst thing I could ever imagine happened. I lost one of the best humans I have ever known to a battle with cancer. A part of me died with him, I can’t lie. I heard once that there are deaths that you don’t get over, you carry it with you for the rest of your life. He was that one. Since then, I’ve struggled and I still struggle with. What I am about to explain sounds selfish and I know he would hate me for feeling this way. It is how I ...

I started writing this post at 3am while in a very negative mindset. I let it sit for a little while, read it multiple times, and realized that if I posted it the way it was that the only person who would benefit from it was myself. That isn't why I started writing in the first place and I refuse for my first post of 2020 to be selfish. I started writing years ago to help others by exposing some of the hardest things I've faced/I still face. While some of this is still the original 3am content, a lot had changed with acceptance of where I stand today. I found myself not loving myself again this year. I think it is going to be a constant thing, having to be conscious and make the decision to love myself every day. I know this is something a lot of people deal with, not just us sick kids. I know a lot of my own issues stem from everything I've been through while I was sick and afterwards. People coming in and out of my life. Never feelings like I was enough. Never honestly ...

I was really struggling to figure out what I was going to write about this year. My 8 year anniversary of my transplant. I really thought this was going to be the first time in a while that I didn't have anything to write about. I just couldn't find the inspiration. Then while scrolling through social media I found something that really hit home for me. It stuck with me throughout the day and into the night. Not really the spark of inspiration I needed just then. But as the day started slowing down and I started to think more it hit me. When I say it hit me, it was one ugly cry. The quote I saw was, "a strong woman knows being strong is not an option for her, it's a necessity." Whenever I tell my story I usually get the same reactions. I'm told how strong I am. When I go through a rough time people remind of how strong I am to get through everything I have in the past. But to me, I didn't have a choice but to be strong. Yes, I probably could have give...

I've been told since I was younger that tattoos are trashy. They're a permanent destruction to your body. I destroyed my temple. I tainted something that was already perfect. That isn't true. My body was tainted by a disease that destroyed my insides. I survived all of that so I could decorate my "temple" the way I please. Every tattoo has a story and a meaning to who and why I am. My favorite story is my most recent. In the last couple months I lost myself. I found myself caught in a depression and spiraled because I was so busy taking care of others around me that I forgot about myself. It's not an excuse for the things I did or said but I realize now that those actions shouldn't be a reflection of who I am as a whole. That person is a broken person. I have tried to hide from that person since I met her senior year of high school. Depressed me is a mean person, but a lost and hurt person too. No one person or one thing is responsible for her hurt, bu...