I don’t post for sympathy

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I don’t post for sympathy. I got a flurry of message from people saying that I’m so strong and that I inspire them. Such lovely words .

But it feels like a lie.

I was strong, but I break. I’m not the same person I was before the surgery. A smile isn’t my default anymore. I do fine for a while and then someone will say something which seems perfectly innocent and I break down completely. I hate psychobabble, but I get ‘triggered’, like, for real. It’s intense and the person who caused it doesn’t understand why, but I do. I cry a lot. I have panic attacks in parking lots. And then I bury it. I don’t have anyone close I can talk to. Dr Mike is giving me ‘tough love’. He says he’s told me what I need to do, and I won’t do it. So, not strong nor inspiring.

But I am honest.

We all have that broken part, and we all cope in unhealthy ways sometimes. If you feel like you’re weak because you take pain meds for emotional pain, you take sleeping meds because you’re only happy when you’re asleep or you want to make sure you don’t dream or you drink way too much alcohol because it dulls your senses and you actually feel more normal when you’re drunk than when you’re sober, don’t be ashamed. You are not weak. You have been let down by society, by friends, by doctors.

You just need someone to care, and someone to help.

I’m working on healthier coping methods. I was going to quit gym, but I can’t. I need it. I need to eat healthy meals. I need to not drink alcohol. I need to get some real sleep. I need to get out sometimes and have light, fun coffee dates. I need a gym buddy to meet me there and help me stay motivated. I need to just chill and play with my puppies. I’m working on all of those things. Every morning I remind myself…

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