Let's try this again...

Going Minimalist

Well, as usual, life has gotten the best of me. Yet again, I know. I’m not good keeping up with things like I used to before my diagnosis. It’s almost like the harder I try, the worse it gets. I can’t handle much more. So, let me explain a bit of my story and where everything changed in my life. This may take a while but bare with me, it’s a journey I’m still discovering.

Pin pointing the exact moment when you life shifts isn’t something most people experience in their personal lives. Sometimes it's much later, after the event that we figure out that something isn't quite right. Yes, there has been events everyone remembers exactly where they were when it happened. For my generation, we can tell you in clear, precise details of where we were on 9/11. I was a freshman in high school, in my first period economics class.

Like so many other events throughout time, they changed everyone in some way or another. But, what if it was something that happened specifically to just changed you? Do you think you’d remember a moment like that? For me, it was losing a loved one in a violent car crash.

A date that millions remember for a very different reason. On December 7th, 1941 was the bombing of Pearl Harbor, a date I’ve had memorized since I was a child. Then came the 75th anniversary of Pearl and another tragic memory tangled within that same date. The date that changed me.

On December 7th, 2016; my aunt was killed in a car crash. That was the first day I felt the shift, it didn’t take up much space in my brain at the time. It only became worse, until I broken completely.

Month by month after my aunt’s death, I lost more and more friends and family. As of now, February 2022, I’ve lost over 20 people close to me. And that was pre-covid.

With the shift, I started to notice things about myself. I dropped my guard for the first time in a very long time and ended up causing myself to get hurt worse than I ever had. That lead me down a path that I had never experienced. The path that shown me that rock bottom, in fact, had a basement and I was trying to dig it up. I didn't just lose myself, I lost everything. I was no longer the same person. My existence seemed to disappear.

As of right now, February 2022, I've come to learn many things. Not just about myself, but how I want to live my life. Shortly after my aunts death, I lost a dear cousin, an uncle, and a man I loved very much. In four months, I lost four people. To this day, I'm still grieving, I don't think I've stopped grieving since then. That old saying about time healing all wounds is crap. Time doesn't heal anything, time only makes things easier to deal with and manage your way with the loss.

In that same four month stretch, my mental health began to suffer and shortly after my physical health began to follow. It started with depression and anxiety, then continued to full panic attacks and agoraphobia. Leaving my home became a struggle that hog-tying a bear with pool noodles sounded like an easier task. It took me months to figure out what was wrong with me. In that same time frame, my lower back and hip became nearly impossible to manage. I was a wreak. Mentally, emotionally, and physically.

So many things were happening that they began to run together into a conundrum so complex that I didn't know how to get out of it. I could barely walk and the pain never goes away, no matter what I try. I couldn't go back to the call center I had been working, I couldn't be around people without losing myself in the process. It became this overwhelming condition that took me almost a year before I was able to reach out and get the help I needed.

Then came the diagnosis. All the time. It's a list that would take up more space than I've already typed, so it's pretty extensive but I'm getting the help I need with the things I can't do alone anymore.

Something I'm still struggling with is remembering to keep up with a blog like I've always wanted to do. So, this is wear my fun begins (again).