healing diaries: lost without you
part onE
When I first came across the song freya riding - lost without you, I instantly deeply resonated with it. Every time I listen to it, the words in this song transcends me back to every major loss in my life, gymnastics, my first love, my childhood dog, and now my dad. These specific words in the song are what resonates so deeply with me:
“Standing on the platform, watching you go - It's like no other pain I've ever known - To love someone so much, to have no control - But I think I'm lost without you - I just feel crushed without you - 'Cause I've been strong for so long - That I never thought how much I needed you - You were the only safe haven that I've known - Hits me at full speed, feel like I can't breathe - And nobody knows this pain inside me - My world is crumbling, I should never have let you go - That I never thought how much I love you”
In 2017, I was working through the shit that came from a relationship that completely broke me. Since my teenage years, this person felt like the only “safe haven that I’ve known” even though they were also the person who hurt me the most. Then in 2019, we said goodbye to our childhood dog. Anyone who knew JJ, knew this dog got me through some of the hardest days of my life, she was my light. When I was finally able to open my heart to start my healing journey, I had the most therapeutic yoga sessions to this song and I even wrote a blog about it.
I had completely forgotten about this song until it somehow came back up when my dad passed away in 2022. I have been listening to this song since my dad passed, thinking of all the things I had lost in my life that made me deeply feel every word of this song. It wasn’t until this past week when I finally started with a new counsellor that I had the biggest realization about maybe why I had so deeply resonated with this song over the years.
It is me who I am lost without.
It’s not about; gymnastics, my first love, my childhood dog, or my dad.
I have been feeling lost since I was 14 when all I knew was ripped away from me. And no one at that time knew how to support me emotionally, mentally, or even physically. I had to work through most of it completely alone.
My entire childhood I was judged by what I could physically do, how well I could perform, how I could physically push my limits, and what I looked like. My entire self-worth, goodness, and identity was centered around my physical body; what it looked like, and what it could physically accomplish. So when I tore my ACL and my physical body was restricted, and limited, I had zero idea who I was. Now enter my first love who replaced, distracted, and helped me through my first big loss, and identity crisis. My identity was now tangled up in another person which we all know never ends well. It took me many many years to finally feel like I could move on from having to give up gymnastics before I was ready to or even feel at “home” in my body. When I was 22, I got a tattoo that represented my healing and closure to that part of my life. I had truly thought I had healed, was moving forward, and had moved forward. But the past 6 months have proven me wrong. I had closed the chapter and moved forward but I never truly healed that part of me that broke 21 years ago.
As I write this I realize the irony in how my life has unfolded, for almost the entirety of my 20’s I struggled with body dysmorphia, restricted eating, and over-exercising. I thought I was completely fine, and what I was doing was completely normal. I did not feel comfortable in my skin, I felt like I was living in someone else’s body, I hated the way my clothes felt, and I hated the way my body looked. I wanted the six-pack abs, a booty, and to have as little body fat as possible. I dedicated my childhood to a sport I loved and it continue to have a ripple effect on me well into my 30’s. When my physical self changed after my ACL injury, I lost who I was. When I no longer saw what I liked or felt at home in my body, I lost who I was. My identity for so long has been determined by what I looked like, and what I could physically do.
In 2016 at 28 years old, I finally started to truly work on my mental health, I learned about growth mindset, self-development, mindfulness, and all that good stuff. I was finally able to let go of what I looked like, or even how my physical body felt. And the moment I started to truly let go my body came back “home”. I was finally feeling confident enough to push the physical limits of my body, I started with a half marathon, worked my way up to a sprint triathlon, olympic triathlon, duathlon, grand fondo, Olympic lifting, acroyoga, hiking, and even dabbled in some gymnastics. This was the best I had felt since I was just a teen. I felt strong, capable, and like I could do anything and achieve whatever I put my mind and body to. I was also at a comfortable weight, felt good in my clothes, and didn’t stress about what I was eating or felt extreme guilt for not going to the gym. Little did I know at that time that again my identity was wrapped up in my physical body but this time it was based on what I could physically accomplish. I made sure I set a goal for myself each year that pushed me physically out of my comfort zone. Who I was, was what I could physically do and the bonus was that my body felt and looked good doing it. From 28 to 31 years old I was the happiest, the most free, and confident I had been in a VERY long time. I felt like I was on top of a mountain, it felt like I had finally made it. That all the years of struggle were finally worth it. Then I got pregnant shortly before covid, and all the physical things I had wrapped my identity in were not possible anymore. Then add in being a working mother, a caretaker to my terminally ill dad, and then grief I could never find the time to take care of my physical self. Cue, feeling extremely lost again…
After my dad passed, I knew I had to make time to take care of myself. I was only a few weeks shy of being able to take some time off work and I herniated my disc. Knowing what I know now, I have come to realize why the last six months have been so incredibly hard for me. I am even more limited physically than I had been when I injured my knee. And knowing that yet again my physical self is never going to be the same is crushing me especially when so much of my identity and who I am has been what I can physically do. Not being able to just pick up my son, not being able to work, not being able to move a box, push a shopping cart, confidently pick something up without fearing pain, having to think twice before every single move, being scared to cough/sneeze too hard, having to ask for help, not being fully independent, and the list goes on.
I am now at a crossroads where I need to make a very difficult decision about whether surgery is the right path forward for me. On one hand, the spiritual side of me wants to believe and trust that my body will heal, or at least evolve on its own. I want to believe that with the right balance of physical rehab, intentions, breathing, mindfulness, and energy work I can get back to the quality of life I desire. The other side of me, the more logical side understands what the doctors are telling me. That the disc is unlikely to reabsorb and that it will be compressing my nerve. The risks and effects of surgery scare me but also the long-term consequences of a compressed nerve. The only thing I do know is I know that my knee has never felt the same after surgery. Surgery in itself is a traumatic experience for your body.
It has been extremely overwhelming to try to work through a decision that will affect me for the rest of my life. I can’t take surgery back so I need to be damn sure that I am 100% and ready to accept all the risks and all the potential outcomes. It’s like someone has sliced me down the middle, my left side is screaming believe in the power of your body and mind, listen to your instincts and gut. And the right side is saying don’t be stupid, I still can’t function properly, get me fixed or you will never get back to the life you want. I am truly trying to honour all the feelings and emotions that come up and I do believe the right answer will come to me if I truly open myself up and listen. At least right now, day to day, moment to moment my decision goes from yes to no.
So here is part one of my healing diary where I am trying to find my authentic self, my identity without needing it to be wrapped up in my physical appearance or ability. And to learn to be my own safe haven.
I know in my heart that I am meant to openly share my raw, and vulnerable journey so here is me honouring myself.
Stay tuned for the next chapter: why I feel the need to protect others at the cost of my own needs.