Tag: empathy

Episode 20

Posted on by Michele

Recently I saw a post on social media that said something like “I apologize if I was ever the toxic person in your life, but I’m working on becoming a better version of myself” and it just hit me hard. Looking back at my life, I realize I was that toxic person. I wasn’t hurting the people around me, at least I don’t think so, I just had a lot of negative energy. I realize now, I was carrying the enormous weight of emotional trauma and insecurities from my youth that I wasn’t fully mature enough to process or manage. It had become a quagmire of pent up negativity that I often seemed to blame others for and let it dim my light. The funny thing was, I preached positivity and spoke often about the need for it and the importance of it, but I couldn’t muster it in my own psyche. My well was dry.

That post made me realize how much things have changed in the four years since my aneurysm has ruptured. My perspective on life has shifted. And, while, one would expect such a change to occur after a near death experience, I think it goes deeper than than that. I feel this glow from inside of me that wasn’t there before…or rather, it was, but it was clouded by a window covered in soot. The light couldn’t get out. In the past, I think my light gave up trying. I was stressed, tired, angry…life got in the way. I gave up. And I let that happen.

It’s no surprise that brain damage changes a personality. Sometimes it’s for the better, sometimes it’s for the worse. For me it has been this metamorphosis of balance and peace that I never thought possible. My mother used to always tell me that I was extremely high strung. I think her exact words were that I was “wrapped around the axle”. I have always been a Type-A personality and never been able to truly relax. I had no idea about that concept. I used to say that I never knew how to have fun. When we would go on vacation, I would have a folder with the itinerary of each day planned out. It wasn’t specific down to times, unless there were tours, but each day was scheduled. Now, everything is different. We went on vacation last year and my husband asked what we were doing one day and I said “whatever we wanted”. I’ve stopped planning my life and started living it.

It’s been no secret that I have had a lot of medical issues following my rupture. My challenges are significant at times. Better than a lot of survivors, worse than others. Life isn’t easy. It isn’t what I wanted. There are days I have temper tantrums. There are days I ask God why he saved my life. But when it truly comes down to it, I’m grateful for my aneurysm rupturing. Yep. You read that right. It doesn’t seem like something anyone with any sense would say. But here I am saying it (although some that know me may say I don’t have any sense, but that’s another story entirely). My reasoning is simple…I’m no longer that toxic person. Oh, don’t get me wrong, I am still passionate about certain things…politics, sports, social justice issues. And I’m still going to get all fired up about those things, but I hope that my positivity outshines the negativity that I feel about the world sometimes.

I’ve learned to deal with the issues of the past and truly forgive, not just lip service, but true forgiveness. I’ve even learned to be a little easier on myself…not much, but a little. I look at the world realistically with the positivity of the future…with the beauty of each moment that exists right in that space in time. It may not be perfect, but it’s what we have and I promise you there is something beautiful right where you are standing.

So if I was ever that toxic person in your life, I apologize…I’m working on becoming a better version of myself…someone I like a lot better.

Episode 16

Posted on by Michele

It’s been a long time since I’ve paced in the shadows of the moonlight. I’ve been having flashbacks and panic attacks for hours now. It all seems so sudden. I was perfectly fine earlier. The only thing that helps when I get like this is to pace and randomly sit wherever I am for brief moments. Then pace again. Over and over the cycle goes until I can breathe again. Until I can feel the fear slip away and feel more of myself returning into my body. Until I can stop seeing myself dying on a bathroom floor.

I watched fireworks this year on Saturday night for the first time since my rupture. This was the first year that the sound of the booms and the flashing lights haven’t curled me up into a ball counting the minutes until the explosions stopped. Seeing the shadows of the flares through my closed eyes reminds me of bright hospital lights overhead as I was being wheeled from the ambulance after my rupture, when my reality transformed my vision.

I have the perfect view of my town’s firework show right from my house. I can sit in the comfort of my house and watch every brightly colored sequence. It’s a sight to behold. So this year, we gathered some snacks and took our seats and watched the show and it was beautiful. There were a few times that I had to close my eyes and do some deep breathing exercises, but overall, I handled it. Unless the panic was delayed, I did great. The next morning, I woke up in a “mood”. Not bad, but not good either. I knew something was off. I just wasn’t feeling good on the Fourth, but couldn’t put my finger on what was wrong. As night fell, my neighbors started setting off small fireworks and I could feel myself getting twitchy. I was watching TV and I was becoming agitated and irritable. I finally just put earplugs in and went to bed. Almost immediately, I started having flashbacks of me laying on the bathroom floor.

My flashbacks devolved into these “what-if” scenarios that my brain started making up. What if I had been at work that Saturday? What if it had happened there? How long would it have taken someone to find me in that bathroom? Would I have died? Would they have known that it was my head without me having had the luxury of screaming “my head” to someone standing next to me? Since the local hospitals missed my brain bleed for nearly 5 weeks, how long would it take for them to figure it out when I came in unconscious?

Insert panicked breathing. 

I began pacing to clear my head. As if the soft fall of my footsteps will chase away the demons that fill my head with images of terror and despair. Ultimately, it’s because I don’t know what else to do. I can’t outrun these visions. I stop and I am always lying on that bathroom floor waiting to be saved. I stop and my brain has concocted another scenario that hasn’t happened, and likely never will, but that I add to the growing list of things that I’m now terrified of. In reality of course, my sister was there to catch me…literally and figuratively; but in these scenarios, I’m always alone. Never sure if someone will find me before I die.

I decided tonight to let the pain be heard. I stopped pacing long enough to write and while I poured over the words, the tears poured out right along with them and I was reminded that it is okay to feel all the things.

I just ask you all to remember that when someone tells you the fireworks are a trigger for their PTSD, don’t scoff because they weren’t in combat. Or a victim of gun violence. There are so many other types of trauma that can be activated by the sound of explosions and the flashing of lights. And not every aneurysm survivor has the same recovery story. Be patient. Be kind.

If you are a survivor…be gentle with yourself. Recovery isn’t easy. Some days are brutal and they sneak up on you. Give yourself some grace. You’ve been through hell.

 

Episode 12

Posted on by Michele

“I complained I had no shoes until I met the man who had no feet.” My dad used to tell me that when I was young if I was having a pity party about something. It was my constant reminder that there is always someone who is worse off than you. That has stuck with me my whole life.

I try to be positive most of the time. Sometimes I fall into a trap and can’t seem to find the bright side no matter which way I look at it. Typically, when something really bad happens to me, I break down and have a pity party for myself that lasts no more than a day. I am a firm believer in allowing yourself to acknowledge and feel those emotions to their fullest, but then I have to pick myself up, dust myself off, and come up with a plan. It’s okay to feel sorry for yourself for a while. It’s normal. But you can’t live there.

Before my aneurysm, I was so high strung (my mother liked to say I was wrapped around the axle), that I would latch on to a comment or action and dwell on it forever…or so it seemed. I would complain and bitch about the most trivial things because they didn’t meet my standard of action. Okay, maybe I wasn’t quite the horrible person I’m imagining, but I certainly could’ve been a better human being. I mean, I would give you the shirt off my back, but I’d complain about how people were treated at work. Somehow, after my rupture, a switch was flipped in my brain. All of a sudden, the little things were just that…little. They weren’t worth the energy it took to worry about them. It wasn’t immediate, but eventually, I realized how important life is and how incredibly lucky I was to have a second chance.

Let’s be honest, 2020 has been a dumpster fire for pretty much everyone on the planet. We’ve been quarantined for months, the virus continues to rage, people are losing their jobs, there are protests, an ugly election, and parents now have to worry about kids returning to school. It’s a lot of negativity for anyone to have to deal with. It is perfectly normal for people to be depressed and feel hopeless. It’s definitely challenging us all. But I want you to pay attention to your words, your thoughts. That internal dialogue is more powerful than you realize. I’m not telling you that things aren’t bad right now…whether you are struggling with an illness, a job loss, or something far worse, but your thoughts feed your actions and your actions can change the world.

We’ve seen so much ugliness in the world lately. There has been entitlement, violence, and vile rhetoric that has plagued us. But we each have it in our power to choose something different. We each have the power to make a difference. This post was originally intended to talk about how positivity has improved my recovery (multiple times), but I realized that there was a much bigger opportunity because of what is happening around us. My doctors have been amazed at my attitude during recovery and how I take what has happened and turned it into a positive. When you consider the options, why would you choose anything other than positivity? Life is a series of events that happen to you. Sometimes you control those events and other times, they are thrust upon you. However, how you respond to those events is entirely within your control.

I want you to listen to your self talk. I want you to truly listen and ask yourself if you would say those things to the love of your life/your mother/your sister/your child. If you recoil at the thought of saying it to them, then you have no business saying it to yourself. You are worthy. You are enough. Exactly as you are.

Now, I want you to consider the people you come in contact with every day…coworkers, essential workers at restaurants/grocery/pharmacies, other customers, and people on your social media feed. How do you talk to them? How would you feel if someone spoke that way to your grandmother? We are all coping with life. We all have challenges that we don’t let others know about. We survive on this planet as a blanket of interwoven threads. We are connected and responsible for each other. And we are stronger because of it. Kindness goes a long way…and it is free. Every single morning, when you wake up, you have the opportunity to choose kindness. Let’s make it a habit to start caring about each other again.

So when you feel overwhelmed and beat down and think that you just can’t go on any more, feel those feelings. Have your pity party, but pick yourself up and move on like the badass you are! And use your journey and experiences to be empathetic to your fellow man. You never know what battles they are waging and your kindness might be the only bright spot they can find.