The Velveteen Rabbit

Jolene (my personal counselor) has made lot's of great suggestions to me over our time together. Her latest homework was to go back and read the Velveteen Rabbit (yes, the same story that was read to you when you were 3). So I went to the Library this week and read it again, and was moved to tears. I love one of the lines by the Skin Horse "Real isn't how you are made... When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real" and later "But once you are Real you can't become unreal again. It lasts for ALWAYS". Who knew this story could move me to tears? Apparently Jolene and I think she was listening carefully to someone else at the time. I needed that story. It is my own story of recognition of the new things I have gained since the stroke, including an acceptance of myself, flaws and all. I think that's one of the best gifts of all.

Along with my second chance at life, I get to discover what really gives me life and how to really take care of ME. That self-discovery process is SO HARD. I'm realizing that who I was before the stroke was pretty flawed, as much as I thought I has things "put together". That acceptance and plan of learning is so difficult, to accept even who I was and who I'm becoming as an "in process" sort of deal. If I could sum up all of the hurdles that I've had to face head-on in the last 20 months- really, they're aren't words to describe this adventure. It has been incredibly difficult, and I've had to do much of the work by myself--something that before the stroke I hated, but I am learning to appreciate the woman I am and am becoming like that Velveteen Rabbit. My "hairs" and "fur" get shabby and worn, but I'm realizing that it is what makes me ME. And that's pretty cool! Self-Acceptance can hurt, and the stings can come from out of nowhere along the way. But I wouldn't trade the process of becoming "Real" for anything. I'm becoming more and more thankful for the stroke, for all that it has taken from me, and the things that I have gotten in return that were very hidden blessings that I wouldn't have "chosen". That acceptance has been huge. Being able to accept the crap that comes along with each and every new day hurts and it sucks. No one really gets it, and it's hard to articulate. That's isolating and an alone feeling, but it also has weird trade-offs. So as I come to terms with self-acceptance in my life for who I am today, I am realizing I am a lot like the rabbit after all. There might be a lot of things that are hidden blessings. I guess the stroke was my magic. As I look back at the painful pictures from last year, I am reminded that I will never be that person again. The grief and loss that comes with that idea is incredibly painful and I lack the words to really fully describe it to others. And yet, I'm still here and still surpassing all of the things that I was told I would never get to do. With each new little milestone, I celebrate being here and having another chance to relish this things called life and all that comes with it. I've been given a new chance at breathing and living. I have been made real, and though that is a process within me, I wouldn't have it any other way. There is truly a freedom that comes with living with a TBI and being given a second chance again. I am grateful for all that the stroke has given me. I used to think of it as a curse, but now, it has become a blessing to me after all. Something I wouldn't have chosen but has been redeemed. Though there are daily trials and testing of my patience, emotions, and intellect--I'm still here, trucking away. And that process of self-acceptance with my flaws and learning about how I am now makes all of the difference. If people don't like me know, that's their problem and I'm not responsible for how they feel. God has just asked me to follow Him and to extend His love to others, and along the way, I will fall, get hurt, get shabby, and make plenty of mistakes. That's what living life is about though- redemption of the painful things for beauty in situations. I'm learning to love me through this process, and I think that's the hardest lesson of love because I had some pretty warped thinking before. As I learn to undo some of that "learning" that I've held so tightly and begin to analyze it for what it is and let go, there is freedom and beauty that is allowed to come forward too. And that's what being Real is all about. I'm thankful for that little story, because the bunny rabbit and I have a lot more in common than I used to think.
Love,
Amy Christine

Post-Graduation plans are still up in the air, and I'm becoming more and more OK with that. It was a saying of mine pre-stroke, "It is what it is" seems to capture most of my feelings towards many things lately. I went to the graduation ceremony for my friends in May and I hate to be the center of attention, even if I've done something that others think is praise worthy. I already know that my wedding day is going to be hard because of that aisle- I think I'll just elope if that ever happens? So I had resolved after going to that graduation ceremony that I wasn't going to walk at graduation when it happens in May. The more I've thought about it and how HARD graduate school has been for me, especially since the doctors said I would never go back after my stroke, I'm thinking that it might actually be a good celebration for me. A "I told you I would be able to do this" moment. I'll send the pictures to all the doctors who said it could never be done. They didn't know how determined and stubborn I was. Graduate school wasn't just "Hey, I'm bored, let's do this school thing"- it has become my LIFE over the past 4 years. So as much as I will hate being in the lime light, I know it's not all about me, but I'm beginning to think that celebrating in that way might be ok for that day. So I'm more open to it now. I think that goes with my acceptance theme that has entered my life in the past few months. So come May I might be doing that graduation gown thing, or at least I'm more open to the idea now. We'll see come May!
Love,
Amy Christine

Relearning compassion

I have a friend at Seminary who is also going though some difficult times with her own health. As she explained her trials to me this afternoon, I couldn't help but think of where I've been with all of the testing, medicines, new doctors, poking and prodding, and how much I have had to depend upon the faithfulness of others when that is definitely NOT one of my strengths, especially pre-stroke. I think part of the reason that might have happened to me last year was so that I could learn to depend on others and ask for help gracefully because I didn't have any other choice. Very simple and common place things that we take for granted every day- talking, walking, eating, rides to places, doctors visits and money... the list goes on and on and on. Case in point- I wouldn't be here today without the strength and support of others. Asking for help is incredibly hard for both of us, but I've seen others respond to my own needs, and I felt as though God was asking me to be generous in return. This isn't by any means a "Oh, look how generous I was" kind of post, but simply an encouragement to her of "Yes, I get it that things suck. But working together, maybe we can find a way to provide for you while your circumstances suck right now. That's called the body of Christ". Praying for you honey, and for God to be real to you in this time of uncertainty, testing, waiting, and the unknowns. He will continue to be faithful. I've seen that for my own life, so I'm going to believe it for you too right now while you don't have the strength to believe it for yourself.

At a place of "In Process"

I never want this blog to become a place where I just vomit what's going on for me. I usually journal my thoughts first or talk to a good girl friend. Tonight, this is just where I am, exhausted. So excuse the unfilteredness ahead of time.

I just continue to be shocked at what the Lord seems to be doing in my life and around me. I realize that many of you may not be believers, and that's totally fine, but what God has done in me and through me in the past 19+ months just continues to astound me. It's not something I can just "separate" or "distinguish" in my life. I'm sorry if that offends anyone that reads this, for that's not at ALL how I want my life or the things that are going around me to come across. Today was a CRAZY day at my internship, and there were several moments where I was just hoping a camera was going to be around the corner or something capturing those moments. I'm supposed to leave at 4, and started my notes from ALL of my clients at 3:45... yeah, didn't leave until 6:30. One of my clients that should have been "easy" (she just needed proof of her pregnancy) ended up having labor pains in our lobby at the end of the day. Needless to say, overwhelmed! We called her a cab to take her to the hospital asap! I'm in awe that I get the opportunity to walk with these amazing women. I realize a lot of my peers wouldn't like this internship or style of counseling that we practice, but I'm flourishing in this setting for so many reasons. Personally and professionally, it's kicking my butt. In a good way.

I'm starting to see some of the healthy balance coming out in my decisions. Granted, this Training and Mentoring class at my school on Self-Care (yes, I chose what I wanted to study this semester for this course), hasn't been easy for me by any means. I've lost or distanced some friendships because of my choices or decisions. Having been a "Yes" to anything and everything to almost everyone else person is sure creating waves when I am beginning to find my true voice in matters again and saying NO. Finding what really matters to me. What energizes me and what depletes me. And as I've taken time for myself, I have so much more quality time for others. I feel like my words matter when I speak them now. I can actually hear from the Lord about my clients and people in my life once again. I thought taking care of myself would somehow turn inward and make me all-kinds of "Me" focused or self-centered (which has never, ever been something I've wanted to do and probably some of the reason I've put it off for so long in reality). Turns out by really taking the time to listen to me and my needs, I actually have something of value to offer to others, while being able to breathe again personally. Yes, my life is chaotic right now and I'm beginning to healthily draw up some manageable boundaries for myself and what I need in return. Everything in my life right now can be defined by it "in process". School. Internship. Thinking about post-May. My reclamation of my own femininity. Being a healthy graduate student (gosh- that one is ever morphing and changing!). Being a servant to others. Discovering what makes my heart beat again. It's all "in process", and that's okay.
Love,
Amy Christine

Acceptance and contemplation

This season is making me really thankful, and as I was writing in my journal last night, it hit me- just how much of my attitude has even changed over the last couple of months. I think the biggest thing that hit me was when I meditated on 2 Corinthians 1:3-5 a few weeks ago. I've had to realize that to be honest, I've believed the lie that if you have faith, then you shouldn't have to go through crap. One of the biggest tendencies with this lie is to think that you're somehow exempt from trials. That couldn't be further from the truth. It still bring tears to my eyes to realize that I'm not exempt but that He is there with me in the midst of the pain. The last 19+ months have been the hardest thing I have ever had to endure. Never could I have imagined how God would orchestrate the events of what has gone down. On the outside, I "look" normal (whatever normal even is anyway), but cognitively, I'm different now. In all honesty, I don't think I would trade what I have now for what I did have before February 2009. That's a HUGE step for me to even admit. I'm able to sort through my priorities and set up proper boundaries to take care of ME and this "New Lifestyle" that just takes so much energy! Living everyday now with a TBI and some memory and coordination issues still lingering is beyond frustrating. The doubts and lies hit me every day of what I USED to be able to do but can do no longer. For a long time, my attitude has been "why me?" or "woe is me". Really, it was as if God had to do something SO DRAMATIC in my life without a medical explanation to make me realize it happened because of _____. I think that would make me rely on people or medicine instead of the Lord. Apparently, that wasn't his purpose, and I probably won't get a medical answer now since it has been so long and they aren't too worried about me having another one. That acceptance that things aren't going to change, things are the way they are during this last part of graduate school, and then who knows after May is giving me the hope to continue and press on right now. Just glad I'm getting to a healthier place with the One who does know what is going to happen in May after I graduate from school and having to TRUST the process.

I've been contemplating a lot lately. I'm just beyond thankful for some of the awesome things that God has given me in strange packages to bless me. I'm leading a post-abortion group on Tuesday nights- and although I haven't had one, I can completely relate with the expressions of the women express in our times together because the grief from our incidents are so similar. I already wrote about it, but my not being able to remember my clients stories has become a blessing to not take them home with me when I'm done at the end of the day. The community that I'm living with is beyond amazing. I can have community time when I need it, but can also retreat into my single room to read or write a paper. They have just been so accepting of me, my limitations, and what I want to do with school and ministry eventually. Their grace extended to me just blesses me so much, and has helped me to turn my attitude around in the last few weeks without their even knowing it. I started going to a new church earlier this summer, and a friend of mine and I both have had similar feelings: this is going to be a place where we can HEAL. For a long time, we've just felt as though we've had our fists raised in the air at God. Slowly, but surely, this has felt like a place that accepts us as we are and wants to help us grow to be more than we are now, without even knowing the stories of our pasts. That gives me hope for the future. I clean for the family that I lived with when I did have the stroke. It seems weird, but it's a tangible few hours where I can just be by myself, listen to music, cry (I love that I can clean by myself and have that freedom!)-- I can earn some extra money and have some time to process all of what is going on around me in life right now. My internship, my classes, my new church, cleaning for Brianna and Aaron, this DH community, accepting the circumstances around me for what they are and that is just the way things are right now: constant daily head pain without much relief or hope that things are going to get any better, very tight financially, having to Trust Him with everything, friends that are in difficult places far away... Things are hard right now, but coming to a place accept it for what it is and there will be a purpose eventually, that's giving me hope. Sorting out who this post-stroke Amy is, what she needs to be healthy in all areas of life- physically, mentally, spiritually, socially--all of it. I've truly been given a second chance and I'm promising to remain open to whatever lessons I still need to learn along the way. Thanks for sticking with me and reading through my sorting through everything that has happened over the past 19+ months. Your sticking by me in this journey still means so much--more than I could ever let you know with words. Thank you for the grace to figure out what this season is and means for me.
Love,
Amy Christine

I can't remember

One of the blessings of my stroke came to me while talking with a good friend this weekend about how much I love my internship. Yes, it's incredibly hard to watch these women to put themselves into situations that they end up being forced to make really difficult choices. It's hard to only see them once or twice and then not hear back from them again and you're left to wonder. But one of the blessings (and they are usually small and minor) is to realize that after my stroke, I can't remember a lot of things anymore. Yesterdays breakfast. A client that I saw last week. A paper that I turned in a month ago. What I read in a book this summer. A conversation I had on the phone two days ago--ALL GONE. I write my notes and a prayer request for an intense story, and after I ride the light rail home--usually they are gone. The memory of the woman and her pain is not- I'm not sure that will ever leave me, and just continues to affirm that I am in the right field and doing His work somehow in all of its' intensity and ugliness most days. But the not being able to remember the horribleness and intensity of their stories is a blessing. I think it is one of the great things that makes me good at this particular internship right now in this time. I can empathize, listen, be present-- BUT I DON'T HAVE TO CARRY THEIR PAIN FOR THEM! They made the choices that got them into their predicament, and though I'm not without compassion or longing to walk with them through it, it's freeing to know that I don't have to hold on to the pain for them. In that, I have found freedom, and it's very, very liberating.
Love,
Amy Christine