So here’s to a beginning. I have been wanting to write for a while but haven’t been able to pull together the words as to all that I have been feeling and learning. It has been on my heart to share some of my experiences that have truly shaped me to be the person I am. It has pressed on me to share about some of my darkest times and how I was carried through. This blog is dedicated to the Lord, the very one who carries my world.

Tuesday, May 31, 2016

Night Skies

And so my first semester at Southern Connecticut drew to a close. I inwardly breathed a shallow sigh of relief. My dissatisfaction seemed to mount as the days passed, as I couldn’t help but feel I was missing out somehow on the life I was ‘supposed’ to have. I felt I desperately needed to hurry up and get better so I could get back to living. This was messing up all of my plans.


My semester had begun abruptly in the fall, and I entered campus by sheer force of will and stubborn determination. I swallowed my pride as I stepped out of my car that late August day and walked to my first class, keenly aware of the bald spots on my head and my horribly swollen prednisone (moon) face. I hadn’t taken much time to get ready that day, as I already knew there wasn’t any amount of prepping that could bring my hair back or my bring face down. And so I swallowed my pride and took myself out of hiding. Those first few months were particularly grueling on my deconditioned body. I had trouble finding the energy and stamina to walk across campus. My legs felt rubbery to walk on which came as a surprise, feeling as if I was in someone else’s body. This ‘new’ body. This body that I had been left with. This was not my body. I had not ten months earlier been going for ten mile runs.  Not to mention playing competitive volleyball and weight training several nights per week. Now walking any distance had become an unbearable challenge. While I was glad to be able to walk again I hadn’t predicted it would be so hard. I began to eyeball benches across campus on that first day to rest on ‘just in case’. My muscles ached as I walked, and the end of the day was particularly challenging. I don’t think I ever did sit on one of those benches. I just couldn’t bring myself to let my body win another dreadful battle.

I remember feeling my face get warm as I passed a good looking guy on that first day. It didn’t take more than a few moments to realize that I was invisible. I kept walking, trying to distract my racing thoughts. All over campus couples were holding hands, guys flirting with girls and girls laughing with each other. I had never felt more alone. Or more different. Their happiness felt like an assault on my senses, as I didn’t want to think about how the rest of the world was moving on. I couldn’t think about others my age being happy. So instead, I threw myself into my studies and told myself it wouldn’t always be this hard.

It just couldn’t be.

My evenings were spent at home in the raggedly old raised ranch hid away in my room with my back leaned up against the cool faded pink wall where I was left with a pile of books and too many thoughts. Night after night I studied, pouring myself in my books. It was the one place where my mind was quiet, the one place where I could escape myself, even for a while. Sure, there wasn’t much joy found in studying microbiology, but there wasn’t any pain either.

And that felt safe to me.

Once the others had gone to bed I would often come and sit in the living room in the dark on the old floral sofa. I would sit and look out the large picture window. Some nights I would see a big bright moon staring back at me. Others only darkness. There was something very raw about seeing the dark night sky that I could relate to. It somehow calmed me while also bringing my pain to the surface. Tears soaked my cheeks many nights as I gazed out that window. I despised myself for my tears. I wished I could hold it together. I wished I could be stronger. What happened to the God I knew? Where was He now? If He really did love me like He said He did, why did He allow all of this? It pained me to feel so abandoned by a God I thought I knew, a God I had previously given my life to. Many times I prayed for help. Many times I prayed to hear from Him.

There was only silence.

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