I’ve been struggling to write, to take part in blog shares or blog parties. I don’t know why….brain fog, the constant nagging pain in a near permanent dislocated shoulder, stress from an adolescent, lack of pacing, all manner of things could be blamed….I just don’t really know.
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Hubby was clearing out earlier this week and came across some DVDs that he and my brother compiled years ago from my parent’s camcorder. You must remember the black boxes carried by all self respecting tourists about 15 years ago? Unlike the traditional camera with a film to be exposed and turned into photographs, the stream of moving images needed to be converted from a small cassette into a format suitable to be viewed on a home system – usually a DVD player by this time! We had forgotten we even had them but, when the writing refused to flow, I have spent several afternoons watching short clips from 12 – 20 years ago.
A wonderful trip down memory lane from the eldest being an inquisitive toddler – did you really let him use let hammer and hit himself, Dad/Grandad? – to holidays abroad with all three kids, to Christmases where departed family are still very much alive and laughing alongside the rest of us. For me it was my young children that I was watching closely and shed a few tears when my lovely Grandad appeared with the then 4 year old politics student discussing a Ninja turtle gift for Christmas 2003.
But hubby told me today that he struggled to view the clips as he was watching me! Why?! I wondered – what was so interesting about me being mum….pregnant, with new babe and toddler, unwrapping presents, pushing a buggy, going to work. Hmmmm – that was it! He saw me – how I was, always on the go, winging it most of the time, particularly around my back problems, pain and EDS. Walking, running, playing, dancing, swimming, working.
A particularly poignant moment was hearing our lovely girl’s voice, aged 2, telling Mummy and Daddy to cuddle as she zoomed the camcorder in on us – with a little help from her brother. On hugging a little voice shouted out “Kiss!!” – we were on holiday in France and this was our last holiday abroad as a family as chronic pain was soon to strike.
Whilst I had not really seen myself, much less watched myself (who likes watching and hearing themselves?), hubby saw the person I was and remembered the person I became. The woman turning 40, riddled with pain and opiates, puffed up with drug weight gain and lunging into reactive depression. The woman struggling to be a wife and mother. Sometimes it is easy to forget that this journey with chronic illness is not ours alone. Our nearest and dearest live it with us, the good with the bad, the happy with the sad.
When I mentioned her dad’s comments to the lovely girl, I did feel sad that her answer was that yes, she noticed it too as she can’t remember me before my symptoms took over and my general health deteriorated. The mum on the film looks like me, sounds like me but is almost a stranger. Or is she?
Hubby had the final say by reminding us all that it is possible to move beyond those awful middle years. He says that I am me again! It sounds a bit dramatic doesn’t it?! Accepting my situation, being pushed to come off the regular opiates in order to have a spinal cord stimulator and keeping as healthy as possible(!) has been transforming.
Whilst I will never be that thirty something who seemed to lose so much almost overnight as she turned 40, now as I look toward turning 50, I think that I can say that I am ME again. I look in the mirror and as I look past the grey hair, the lack of sleep, the metal spine, the splints and mobility aids, I feel like myself and so I see MY reflection once more.