Five Years – It’s an Inside Job

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve written, erased, and come back to write again.

There’s so much to say and yet, so little. It will make sense, I promise!

Since beginning this blog back in October 2017, I have gone through nothing less than a metamorphosis. I suspect many of us have, given what we’ve all been through over the last five years!

At the very least, I’d say we’ve all realized some things about ourselves and others that are… shall we say?… surprising.

For example, I never felt all that strongly about immunizations. I mean, I got them, as one did when brought up in the 1960s. We all did. And when it came time for my children to get their needles before entering school, there was no question.

I held the military, police, educators, clergy, my parents, and most adults in high regard, simply because they were adults (who in some cases held my life in their hands).

Pandemics were things that happened over there (she says, pointing to the other side of the globe).

I respected politicians even if I disagreed with them. And while I have never been particularly political, nor has this space, we can’t help factoring it into the current landscape.

Literally, EVERYTHING is different than it was five years ago.

Do you feel the same way?

Personally, I have entered into my third act of life. I’ve learned some things simply by virtue of the fact that I’m growing old(er). Just comes with the territory.

Some of what I’ve learned has been hard fought for (not a good sentence but it makes good sense)! All the books I’ve read and therapy I’ve had has certainly done some good!

Then, there are the things that *just happened* and I have no idea HOW.

I wish, for example, that I could adequately explain what happened to me (psychologically) in the hospital last October. I went into the ER a scared shitless hypochondriac who literally rattled with health anxiety.

If you’ve read me for any length of time, you know that my health anxiety was – at times – crippling.

But in those few days in October, after a scary diagnosis and two surgeries, I did a complete turn-around.

I *wanted* to know what was wrong with me and was willing to do ANYthing needed to find out.

I wasn’t “doing it afraid” which has been a way I talked myself through anything medical in the past.

I just DID IT.

There was no stomach-dropping feeling. No chattering teeth. No Xanax needed.

And what’s really weird? I didn’t revert back to “normal”. This is a NEW ME!

The first thing I did when I came home was a medical test I had declined to do for literally ten years straight,

The fear was – and is – gone. *poof*

Don’t get me wrong… the apprehension creeps in slightly, as I think it does with anyone getting medical tests… but it doesn’t stop or even hinder me. I feel physically and emotionally different than I did before.

A couple of weeks ago, when my doctor said I needed a chest x-ray for possible pneumonia, I got in the car and drove to the lab to have it done. No preamble of OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD or “C’mon Sher, you can do this!” was needed. I just DID IT. And I *wanted* to know the results!

Yesterday, I did something I never, EVER would have done before! I spit in a tube and sent it to be tested for health and ancestry.

All that to say…

I can’t pinpoint what happened internally.

Except to say…

While I was in the hospital, I kept coming back to the word surrender. And yes, we’ve already talked about that quite a bit, haven’t we? But it doesn’t exactly explain what snapped inside me. But one thing is clear! Something DID snap.

Maybe that hospital stay was just my moment.

Or maybe everything I’ve done through the years – all the therapy, books, and life experience – simply collided?

Perhaps.

So, what do I know after five years of writing this blog?

I sat down to write and this is what happened…

• Here’s where I started a list with fancy little bullet points.
• Here’s where I ended it.
• Everything in between didn’t matter.

I wrote paragraphs about social media, mental health, bodies, food, health, and relationships.

Then I erased it all.

None of it mattered. Just words upon words upon words.

If there’s a bottom line (and there IS) it begins and ends with this:

It’s called “Self-Help” for a reason.

The magic always comes from within.

Sure, you may be encouraged or inspired or touched by the hands (or energy) of another … but it still comes down to YOU.

And I would add that surrender is necessary!

The surrender might *feel* like it’s about an outside force (like a surgeon, therapist, or clergyperson).

It’s NOT.

It’s an INSIDE JOB.

That’s what I’ve learned over the last five years.