July 20

I'm taking the week off therapy to enjoy vacation in Ocean City with Dusty's family and then relax the rest of the week.  It was my fourth summer trip with them- they go to the same place, same week every year. Unfortunately, they book the place a year in advance and for this trip, it was before I got sick. So...we were on the third floor. Lucky for me, I had Dusty and his brother plus two firemen in our crew and going up and down the stairs was no problem. We did, however, agree to get a first floor place next year, just to be prepared. How awesome would it be to not need it, though? Guess only time will tell.

I talked to a guy from KKI a few months back and told him I was coming to OC. He gave me the best advice and said to reserve a beach chair from the convention center. You can only have it for three days, but it was a life saver. And, it just so happens that we only stayed for three full days since Dusty isn't taking the whole week off work. All I did was tell them which days I wanted the chair and then Dusty picked it up. No charge or anything. Seriously, I don't know what we would've done without it (except have me whine and not get to be with everyone else on the beach, haha.)

The first day was a little bit of a struggle emotionally. Just being back at the beach reminded me of this time last summer and waves of emotions washed over me in everything we did, everything I saw, everything I thought about. How could things be so vastly different? It still just isn't fair to me. How many times did I sit in that same sand, on that same beach, and feel inadequate? Not happy with how I looked or promising myself that I'd exercise more and be even more prepared for the following year's beach trip? Well this time, I didn't care as much about how I looked, I just wanted to walk. Something so simple. Something you never think would be taken away from you. I just wanted the sand between my toes to feel normal. To watch the sun rise and set from the lifeguard chair that we weren't supposed to climb up on after hours. To take a walk down the beach, feet in the water, collecting sea shells along the way. To run around and play in the sand and water with all the kids that were with us on the trip. I only let these emotions take ahold of me on that first day though. Dusty was right, I couldn't let these thoughts ruin what could be a good trip. So I didn't. I got out of the pity pool, reminded myself of how much worse things could and actually were not so long ago, and made the most out of everything. And guess what? It worked. The sunshine and carefree lifestyle for those three days was exactly what I needed. I feel refreshed and even more determined than before (which I didn't even know was possible). 

The Timehop app that shows me what happened on this day so many years ago, etc. hasn't helped me to forget about how "perfect" things were this time last year, two years ago, three years ago, etc. While at the beach, a picture from our friend's wedding showed up and it was a picture I took of myself last year after a friend did my makeup. My hair was perfect, my makeup was flawless, and I was wearing my favorite yellow dress, getting a million compliments. It's the best I've ever felt about myself. I hated that the picture showed up to remind me how different things were or how much hell my body has gone through since then. But this morning, I did my hair for the first time in weeks and sent Dusty his "smile of the day." It's something he's made me do since first year of optometry school. It was a stressful year with lots of tears, to say the least. He started requesting a "smile of the day," which was a picture of myself so that he could make sure I smiled each day. When I took that picture this morning, he told me how beautiful I was (like he always does), but this time was different. I kind of believed him. I felt more like myself than I had in I don't know how long. I put together a little collage because I wanted to show myself the changes I've been through in the past ten months. I thought it would give me a better perspective and be something to lift my spirits when I start getting down on myself again. Once I made it, I started to think about how many other people might be affected by it. Like, how many other people struggle with self esteem or poor body image? I know the answer is a lot. So, I shared the photo on social media.

I wrote "My body has been through hell this past year and as a result, so has my self esteem and the way I've looked at myself. The top picture is exactly a year ago and probably when I looked my best (if you ask me at least). The second is the first time I stood on my feet after two months of being bedridden- definitely not looking like myself. The bottom is the first time I did my hair, but my face was still really puffy with fluid and the trach was still in place. And finally, the last one is today. It's a daily struggle, but I'm fighting to get back to where I was a year ago, both physically and mentally, but at least I'm wiser and stronger now. Slowly, but surely I'll get there 󾬕 #nevergiveup #sci #recoveryyear"

The response was overwhelming...not only did I have over 200 people "like" the post, over 40 people comment sweet messages, but I also had friends text me to tell me how beautiful, strong and inspiring I am. I wasn't looking for compliments or anything like that, but I feel like it's important for people to know that everyone has doubts or feels inadequate sometimes. I was never the girl that needed reassurance or lacked confidence. I was the friend that had to build others up and show them their worth, thinking it was so wrong that anyone wasn't able to see their own worth. You'd think after all I've been through, I'd feel even more confident in myself, not start having insecurities. I'm glad I stepped out of my comfort zone though...I not only feel better, but I hope that being vulnerable like that may have helped someone else.