The odd thing about a trauma, I have recently come to learn, is it's strange effects on one's body; palpitations and funny turns. Simple ordinary questions such as troublesome 'How are you?' are hard to honestly answer without sounding like a loon. My default, short, polite response doesn't really cut the mustard. No mention of the sudden shakes that leave me confused and flustered. I never non-nonchalantly describe, whilst I guffaw and crack a joke, how my legs, they feel like jelly and I think my mind's been broke. There's often pounding in my chest and I feel a little queasy. Having a normal, friendly chat is no longer easy-peasy. I spend my relaxation time laying staring at the ceiling, trying desperately to rid myself of this crazy feeling. These horrid, frightening attacks were caused by a tremendous shock. But the pills I have to pop each day do help an awful lot. I'm starting to feel much better as the days and weeks go by. I can even wash the dishes without a pause to have a cry. I can have a conversation that's coherent and makes sense. I no longer stare off into space when I go out with my friends. There are even several positives to being in this state, despite my healthy apetite, I've lost a lot of weight. Clothes that I'd 'grown out of' now re-fit me like glove. My oldest ripped and faded jeans are worn with proud, rekindled love. My feet are most surprising though as my shoes are now like boats. It turns out that my feet have shrunk, my clown-like shoes are jokes! My cheekbones are like razor blades. Paris fashion week best watch out. Ol' skinny feet might turn up next year modelling a perfect pout. Experiencing this major blip has given me brand new skills. Meditation really helps, it's not just those little pills. I know about a lot more things like herbs and nutrients, calming homemade vitamin shakes, fruit smoothies and supplements! In fact, I might retire to Spain to start a health retreat. I'll retrain as a yogi chief with uber skinny feet. I'll put this trauma to good use, my rebirth now awaits. So when someone asks me how I am, I can truly say,'I'm great!'
Dear God, I want to thank you for the woman I’ve become.
Although I’m far from perfect, I’m proud of how far I’ve come.
But I can’t take all the credit, I wasn’t on my own.
I’ve been guided, loved and reassured. I didn’t act alone.
The women I have around me, those I’m blessed to call my friends,
have been there close beside me and I hope, will be ’til the end.
Even at a distance, when not physically by my side,
I’m aware of their loving wisdom that’s my fuel when I am tired.
And boy, have I grown weary of the trials I’ve had to face,
I’ve wanted to admit defeat, give up this stupid race.
But stationed all around me in strategically placed positions
is my peloton of sisterhood, my network of ‘soul’ physicians.
Their strength, their courage, their wisdom is what’s kept me in the saddle.
My resilience I owe to them, especially when my mind’s been addled.
Providing a calm perspective as I’m head down through the mist,
they whisper quietly in my ear, ‘You can do it girl. You got this!’
My friends don’t have it easy. But then who really does?
It doesn’t stop them offering their patient, unyielding love.
They’ve helped me time and time again. Their words refresh my soul
when I’ve needed gentle honesty to inspire, stand tall, be whole.
Such empathy and warmth abounds. Their friendship keeps me going.
A living energy that circulates and through my veins continues flowing.
They listen without judgement and don’t belittle what I say.
Their words cut through my darkest fears and help to light my way.
They help decipher life’s cryptic codes and analyse mysteries.
Together we take ‘rough with the smooth’ and share our varied stories.
Friendship is a powerful tool and like food that nourishes the body,
the confidence gained from my female friends strengthens me on my journey.
Despite the layers and my bravest face, they know me inside out.
I don’t pretend or put on a show. That’s what friendship’s all about.
Often humour and a pinch of grace helps us put the world to rights.
Cynically laughing in the face of pain, we put up a damn good fight!
Comedians, psychologists, doctors and kindred spirits,
each one has helped to set me free when I’ve been pushed to my outer limits.
Yes God, my friends encourage me. We’ve laughed, rejoiced and cried.
Bless them God, as they’ve blessed me. Walk with them by their side.
We all have one pure common aim, to be the best that we can be.
Please God, cherish and protect these women that’ve so lovingly supported me.
Let our conversations regenerate us. Let us be vibrant, wise and kind.
And my friends, please know that when you’re out of sight, you are never out of mind.