Thanks, Sound of the South

I've been extremely attached to Troy's band so far this semester. I LOVE that I live right across from the band field. If you ever can't find me, check the hill by the band field. I sit there and watch the band and cry. Today I was sitting there full-blown ugly crying. Thank goodness for sunglasses!

Don't get me wrong, I have always loved the Sound of the South and have been immensely proud to have them at Troy. But somehow this year is more like my freshman year. The last two years, I guess I took having the band around for granted. 

I haven't been very secret about my struggles and my past with this blog. High school was terrible, and I even hated my hometown because of it. I was beyond thrilled to move to Troy my freshman year and "get away" from my past. The band was a constant reminder that I was no longer in high school (my high school didn't have a band). Sophomore and junior years I still loved the band, but I was doing better and didn't need them quite the same way. 

Earlier this summer when I was diagnosed with PNES (which is caused by something like PTSD from my high school experience) I felt like I was right back where I didn't want to be. The panic attacks started again. The nightmares started again. The incessant crying started again. The hopelessness started again. The only difference is that this time I wasn't quite ready to leave my parents to move to Troy. I wanted the safety my parents offered. My friends in Troy are great, but my parents know what I went through better than anyone. My mom slept on the floor next to my bed for an entire semester in high school because I was doing so badly. 

I didn't want to leave them. I didn't want to move back to Troy and start work and classes and my big-girl life. I cried on move-in day. The next day was the first time I heard the band this year. And yes, I cried. It reminded me that I'm not in high school. That part of my life is O.V.E.R! 

So thank you, Sound of the South, for making me glad to be back in Troy and reminding me that there is life after crap. (I'll still probably continue to ugly cry for you.)

Sick and Tired of Being Sick and Tired

Days like today I want to give up.

Unfortunately giving up on being sick- not really an option. It feels like I'm drowning in an ever-growing list of symptoms, the most recent being back spasms. My first one was 2 weeks ago and it came out of the clear blue sky. I figured I pulled a muscle since I'm not exactly the epitome of grace in action. It started when I woke up and was mainly just soreness by late afternoon. No harm, no foul, right? Today's caught me completely off guard and it came out with guns blazing. In fact, I'm writing this now because I'm still awake with pain. Back spasms coupled with the inability to take a deep breath has made for an exhausting day, mentally and physically.

Overall, I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired. I'm sick of cancelled plans and I'm tired of the toll being sick takes. I'm sick of looking healthy while feeling like I'd just rather hug the floor, and I'm tired of feeling that "Get Well" cards are empty promises. I'm so sick and tired of living sick and tired.

But I do live sick and tired. What other choice do I have? Sit at home and wallow in self-pity? Not a chance. As soon as my back allows me the luxury of movement (and of, it IS a luxury) once more I will be out living my life. It's the only life I have to live (did I just use yolo?) and I can't trade it in for a more "convenient" one. I probably couldn't handle the new life anyway since I was created for this one. Being sick and tired has made me who I am. Being sick and tired has made me depend on the great I Am. I'm an independent personality with an "I'll do it myself" attitude. Without being stopped in my tracks by something outside my control, would I make time for Him? I shudder to think. Days like today remind me how helpless I am on my own. I would rather do life my way without being sick and tired, but I think it's pretty safe to say it's better that I can't.