COVID CHRONICLES: The road to recovery

I have been debating within my self for weeks. I have been inside my own mind for days at a time, that I lost track of actually being present with each passing day. As I laid sick, isolated and alone, I felt emotions I never knew I had. I asked myself and I living or, just existing? Am I being honest with myself? Will I be able to speak my own truth?

I reached as deep as I could, do find my motivation again, to pursue the things I had planned for, to share a message, yet I fell short time and time again. I continued to try, but fell. I began to feel anger, so much anger, with each passing day as my experience began worsening. There is so much we go through that is not shown, it not shared, and in not spoken about.

I realized that my story was not a unique one, but one that continues to be repeated, and I began getting angry again. Why is this cycle not breaking? What am I doing wrong, and I should be doing more. I decided to share my story of COVID19 because if I can help shed light on any truths, any questions, and help anyone else around me, I felt that was what I needed to do.

I put myself out there to be judged, gossiped about, shunned, and treated like an outcast, but the risk was worth it. Even with the few who treated me like the plague, I know that we as humans have that right, to feel and think what we feel. I was hurt, but I was not broken. I dug deep again and again, time and time again, and rose up.

I only shared a piece of the story, because it was not my story to tell, but with each passing day as my situation seemed to get worse I felt obligated to share once more. I was not the only one to contract COVID, it hit my entire family, with my Dad being hit the hardest. There were moments we thought we were going to loose him, just as we were loosing my Grandma to the Virus. As I watched the ambulance take my Dad, day after day, bring him back home because he wasn’t “sick enough” I thought that final night, is this it, is this the last time I will see my Dad alive? I felt hopeless and empty, I felt anger and rage. I felt so many emotions in a single day, I felt like I was loosing my mind.

Contrary to all the negative energy I also felt an abundance of gratitude because of the support that showed up for my family and I. It was only through the huge outpour of love, and understanding and constant encouragement that I was able to recover. I had friends from all over, come together to help in all the ways possible, that at my lowest point in life, I was lifted, even if it was inches, I was lifted, I had hope, it renewed my spirit, it gave me the strength to get up and not give up.

It was at that moment, that I started writing again, I looked through my journal with notes of distance learning meetings (I missed), back to school night (I missed), COVID support groups, funeral costs, caskets, medications, dietitians, doctors, FaceTime schedules, food deliveries, thank you cards, quotes from friends, so much in such a short time. I feel I could write an entire book of all the ins and outs of my experience, there is simply too much to say, and at some time, I will share more when I am strong enough to do so.

I hit rock bottom over and over again these last few weeks especially, and in those lowest movements, I would re-read text messages, cards, cry out, listen to worship music, sing in the shower, and have even considered picking up piano again, because when I cried out in the shower I felt that God heard me, for so long I didn’t feel his presence and it’s taken me years, but maybe he was waiting for me to call out again.

The road to recovery will be long and windy, but I am truly trying my best, and I know that I will overcome. The strength that I have shown to my children, my husband, friends, and family, is strength I didn’t even know I had. These photos I have chosen to share, shows a small glimpse of my personal experience with COVID19, and with a humbled heart, I am here, I made it, and I am forever grateful.