I remember that day so clearly. Tuesday, September 8, 2009. I remember twitching a little when I grabbed my cereal box from under the counter. I remember putting my cereal bowl into the microwave and the uncontrollable convulsions that overtook my body. I remember seeing the cute paramedic leaning down and asking me what my name was and what day it was. I didn't remember it at the time - I'd just come out of a grand mal seizure - but I remember it well now. I remember lying on the stretcher in emergency, wondering what was going on with my body. Why it was failing me like this.
It's been 7.5 months since that day. I thank god everyday for all that I have now. My health, my happiness, my peace of mind, my family. I have learned so much over the last 7.5 months. Perhaps most importantly, I've learned to stop feeling guilty. I don't feel guilty about sleeping more if I need to. I don't feel guilty about working late if I need to. I don't feel guilty about going out with my friends when I want to. I don't feel guilty about spending money on myself. I don't feel guilty - period. And that in itself has lifted this gigantic, invisible weight off my shoulders.
I have learned that I can't do it all. I'm not having another child. I'm not going to finish my undergraduate degree. I might not get a promotion anytime soon. But I'm at peace. I have learned to appreciate all that I have. I have learned to accept that my life is predestined, but I haven't stopped dreaming. I believe that in the face of what I went through, I have emerged a more confident person and, if there are more trials ahead of me, I know I will manage.
I've lost and I've regained and I've learned that losing isn't so bad after all - as long as you can see what you gained out of the loss.
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