It’s time to be honest with you but more importantly, myself.
Lately my head has been swarmed with so many thoughts, some great and some not so great.
I’m working. It’s great. I’m in a financial position that I’m so thankful to have earned after all the turmoil in my previous jobs.
I love the way I feel when I undergo lip fillers. My desire for constant physical change. Mocking everyone who ever told me it makes me look insecure. You see, I was.
No matter the reason; personal hatred, a spontaneous urge for severe change or just wanting to feel as beautiful as the women who also do the procedure regularly.
You see, with it, I feel more secure than ever. Does that make me insecure? If now I feel more beautiful than I thought I ever could, despite what others may see or feel.
Bloggers, something in the last week became a snowball effect into quick sand. As I tend to do, panic, it felt like between Friday and today my head is barely above ground.
Have you ever met someone after so long that reminds you that you are worthy? Maybe even sexy. Someone that makes you feel the way you did in high school. Young and carefree but still understanding and empathetic.
I did briefly.
We met for the duration of maybe never long enough.
Reflecting, not over thinking - on the way I handle situations. Either too forceful or too apologetic.
Only if anyone knew what burns within. Like Mary Poppins bag, my brain and body may seem small but I am bursting with love, compassion and support.
After waking up Monday morning unable to move. Screaming, hoping someone was home. The cries I screeched. Not for my mother or for anyone really. Because I knew no one would really be there to look after me.
Searching in one position - flat on my back unable to move anything else, I scramble for my phone.
Crying, In fear, who do I call?
Am I worth the ambulances attention?
With no one I know to come to my rescue, I swallowed my pride and my gulps and called my mother in hysterics.
45 minutes later she arrived. One trip to the Emergency Room with a pulled neck muscle I was dosed up on pain medication just after my mother had left.
After she had left me alone at the hospital, I reminisced on every time I was stuck there (I will upload that post I wrote during the Emergency Room).
I remembered the times my hand was sliced, screaming the
Hospital down. That room opposite the one I waited 3 hours in Monday morning. The times I saw my grandmother there. The times I was taken there. The times I suffocated in the room beside me questioning if my airways were going to close forever.
She collected after I was discharged and within just 15 minutes I Ordered myself an Uber home.
After a long day appointment setting - the highlight of working from home - I received a message from my brother in Japan saying my grandfather was taken to Emergency and his body was essentially shutting down.
After the sobs consumed my thoughts, I hired a car from a friend and drove through the night to Ipswich Hospital. The same one I was born in. The same one my grandmother would regularly be taken to also.
2 hospitals in 1 week, my phobia, the memories that haunted me every meter through those glass, automatic emergency doors.
Before I arrived I stopped at the Ipswich Water Tower. Dad used to take me and my brother there when we would spend every fortnight with him. It felt like I was meant to be there.
Lately I’ve been feeling so lost and there’s no better place like home. Watching the stars over the city lights I grew up around before saying my final goodbyes to a grandfather I wish I had spent more time with.
After grandmother died, there was a hole in my heart that I feel never went away. I guess once grandad had his first scare of illness, I distanced myself.
The heart ache of losing your best friend, a family member that put me before everyone. My grandmother was like a mother to me, a teacher and the only person who could keep my demons to rest when I slept.
I remember the day I was told she died. Looking back now, she knew my last visit would be the last. When you’re young - what I would do to have that last hug. Or that last processed coffee that I love to this day. Watching English shows till midnight making jokes and playing rummy kub.
Losing grandad, I was afraid to feel that pain that I still carry today.
One thing about Samara Ward, I don’t do goodbyes. I can’t. I sense them before they’re coming and my body shuts down. I’ve seen a lot goodbyes, well heard of them. Goodbyes could and seem to always be the last.
As I arrived at the hospital, entering the COVID-19 Ward, tears tightening in my eyes as I chokingly ask for my grandfathers room.
“I’m sorry, no one can see him as he is being tested for Covid-19”. The nurse looked at sympathetically.
Angry, consumed, suffocating and hiding in these emotions inside.
I left after a 3 hour round trip to never even get to see him, which may have been for the very last time.
Exiting the hospital peacefully, silently falling apart, this roar buried inside escaped me. I screamed so hard I’d hoped the heavens were listening.
“Why!!!!!!!?”
“why did you do this to me God?”
“What was this lesson?”
Empty handed, shattered and confused. A brief panic attack, blurry vision falling into the drivers seat.
Breathing heavily and counting: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10
One last sob before deciding to surprise my father just streets away.
What was worse, the look on his face or that I was only allowed over for 5 minutes.
I guess it’s official, I really aren’t daddy’s little girl anymore.
My home didn’t feel like my home anymore. The colours, the framed photos, the smell.
It was like I didn’t exist. I was replaced.
All I wanted in that moment was for my dad. I wanted dad to hug me and tell me he’s happy to see me, he’s so proud of me and.. maybe I thought he’d say he loves me.
Leaving, broken hearted. A departure from my father who I hadn’t seen in years and the inability to say my goodbyes to
Grandfather I wish I gave more to.
My neck throbbing in agony every which way, still working every chance I get. Trying to not allow this newly welcomed unhappy feeling.
My new mission is to focus on my physical and mental health. You can’t be the perfect person for someone until you feel beautiful and love yourself indefinitely.
I spend too much of my time thinking about the “what if’s” and “wow I wish I looked or achieved what she has”.
It’s time to flaunt what God gave me and be kinder to others.
Be the boss of my own life and live it how I would run a successful business.
Stay strong, everything happens for a reason.
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