Faith-in-Frame

Goal: wash face, brush teeth, make spinach/crab dip, blog, and maybe try the shower.



I am glad to see another Friday as they are the anniversary days of my surgery. Today marks seven weeks of being fixed to a frame. *smile* I smile because six weeks ago today, Christmas Day to be exact, I didn’t think I was going to make it. My running thought was suicide. (I prayed for the day to go home so I could die.) Every night I thought of taking 13, 14, 15 pills to “numb” the pain and put me in that deep sleep I so desired. I just could not do it at my mom’s house. I did not want her to be haunted by that.


In truth, being under my mom for three weeks saved my life. As the days moved forward and my energy started to return, I really wanted to get home, but I had no longer had the desire to die. I wasn’t sure how I was going to live, but I was eager to give it another try. I was eager to feel my bed again, have my boo hold me again, watch my tv, sit on my couch, smell my smells , take a shower, see my clothes, touch my things, drive again, and travel again – I was eager to meet Denedria again.


Now, seven weeks in, I continue to rediscover myself. Many days I feel like a fake because I can’t seem to match the me before the frame to the me of today. I know my outlook will change over time as it always does, but this time my hidden fears seem to be more dominate and not easily shaken. More than anything, I am afraid that there is a permanent crack in my independent nature.


I also feel phony because I haven’t been able to pray since the surgery. (I tried once, but it felt so foreign.) So many people have held me in their prayers, and yet, I haven’t been able to it for myself. In truth, I haven’t had a church home in years, but my faith in God has remained strong. I know that it is because of Him that I am here and continue to be, but even as I am typing this, I believe this more with my head than with my heart. I have truly lost something and am struggling to get it back.


I know I need to find a church home, someplace where I feel safe and accepted. A safe place, yes, that is what I need. Any suggestions???? I need, above all else, to stop walking in fear, but I need guidance. I may also go back to counseling. One thing I do know; I can’t social work myself! I process things very well but even social workers need to know when they have hit a brick wall – “Hello wall.”