Thursday, April 17, 2014

i am different

Tonight's post is short. It's a sacred lesson to myself about showing up, even when it feels mucky. Especially when it feels mucky. Maybe it's just for you- the friend who doesn't think they can do it, but has to do it anyway. I laugh when people tell me they would write-- but they just can't find the time. I fit a little writing in between my daily massage and tennis lesson- while I'm eating bon bons. They thing about writing- if it's really important to you, you have to choose it, especially when it's inconvenient. You don't have to do it daily and you don't always have to share it, but you must commit to it. It's kind of that easy.


Although I still feel the pains of growing, I am starting to breathe again. I have an 18 inch scar on my back, and metal rods on either side of my spine. I had scoliosis growing up and I wore a back brace. 

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Yes, it was almost this bad. And yes, when everyone laughed at her in the movie Sixteen Candles I wanted to throw up.


Sometimes I still wake up from a dream and check to feel if my brace is still on in a panic. I was Judy Blume's Deenie and I constantly felt out of place... Different in a bad way. 


 photo _MG_0206_zpsfd23be57.jpg Sometimes different is good. It took me a long, long time to realize that.


I wish I would have just spoken up then. I feel like a loser. Just one me too could have changed my entire trajectory. I thought you were supposed to hide your different. Sometimes I still forget and think that's true. I went to a Catholic all girls school. I would arrive early, first thing in the morning so I could remove my brace and hide it in my locker all day. And then I would wait until the bulk of kids left before I would put it back on again. It was supposed to be worn 23 hours a day. I didn't give it enough time to work so I ended up needing surgery. I don't regret it.

The surgery blew my fricking mind. When I woke up I wanted a gun so I could shoot myself, I couldn't bear the pain. They used metal and rods and hooks and screws to best pull and push and straighten my back. They took extra bone from my hip to be placed on my vertebrae, so it could fuse and grow together as straight as possible. They couldn't place the bone graph on healthy bone, it would never take. So they had to scrape the bones of my vertebrae raw until it bled. Only then could it bond with the bone graph and then grow stronger than it ever was in the first place. Sometimes the bloody and painful parts are needed so we can become stronger and healthier than ever before.

You are worth the journey and the wait. And so am I. This life thing? I'm pretty sure we're going to be okay. And by the way, I'm different. I sure hope you are too.

9 comments:

  1. <3 <3 I'm so "square" I'm cubic, I'm the 'square peg in a round hole' except that maybe I'm not even square... maybe my shape doesn't have a name. I'm trying to learn to be comfortable in my shape, whatever it is... sometimes I'm happy with it, and sometimes I wish desperately that I could squish into a square hole, or a round one, or a triangular one... they seem to have it easy. Reading your blog helps me feel good about my "shape". And it's a good shape because it is mine. Thank you Chrissy!! Hope you and your family have a happy & blessed Easter.

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  2. i can relate to the painful things making us appreciate life more,and coming to terms with our body's being different becuase of the disease/illness. i had too a life threatening disease. i don't want to hijack so i won't share anymore on me.readers love your blog because you are a real and down to earth... easy to relate to.just wanted to give (((hugs))).

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  3. Love! My fave: the thing about writing is that you have to choose it...even when it's inconvenient. Amen. I love reading your words. Filled with pride for you and because of you.

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  4. smitten with this. I needed this reminder as i started my own blog this week.
    I will pray for your pain.

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  5. I was always different too and tried my hardest not to be. I have always been highly spiritual and hid it by conforming to what I thought I should be. It didn't work, I was teased and bullied because my difference showed through. Thanks so much for your honesty and vulnerability. It is an inspiration to me.

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  6. Hi Chrissy,
    I just wanted to let you know that I read your beautiful blog nearly everyday. I don't think I have commented before...I have thought about it, but just haven't for some reason which is strange because I feel like I "catch up" with you nearly everyday! I am a Mum of two little ones in Australia and I just love the way you write. Sometimes your words are like my inner thoughts being splashed across my laptop...confronting but comforting at the same time. It's so nice to know that there is another Mum, albeit all the way in the U.S, that has a similar "way of being" as I do!
    Keep writing even when it hurts as there are, I'm sure, many others out there like me who relate and find comfort in your words. God bless your beautiful family!

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  7. Personally, I grew up envying those who were different. I felt so dull, always. No special talents, nothing exceptional or noteworthy about me. I had a friend who positively glistened with "different" in all kinds of beautiful and unique ways. I envied her so much... and come to find out later - when we are both adults - that she envied me that I was so "normal." That's all she ever wanted to be. The grass is always greener...

    I think we have both become a little more comfortable in our own skin. She is embracing her "different" and I am embracing my "normal" and we make it. Life isn't what we expect and sometimes it's so much better.

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