Grace

It's taken a long time for me to come up with this post. Partly because of all the emotions that have been struggling to surface, but yet avoided and denied by me. Partly because I didn't quite know how to articulate and set the whole chain of events all in perspective. And also partly also because my heart needed timeout from the overwhelming torrent of fear, hurt, disappointment, uncertainty and acceptance I had to come to terms with.

Oh I knew consciously the reality of what was happening, but I refused to admit it to anyone. Because giving it voice would make it even more... affirmative. And I was frightened beyond what I could ever put into words.

On Monday, I was told that I had a fibroid the size of a mango. I sat in the doctor's waiting room alone and shivering, underwent the scan in tears, heard the diagnosis in shock. I was supposed to have been accompanied.

And I was furious with my absent companion. I concocted all sorts of scenarios that I could imagine being deserted. They all seemed completely plausible incidents I believed and literally knew I would find myself in. I thought to myself: See? You'll lie dying on the road if you ever ask for help and support from that someone again. I crossed my point of tolerance. I was shattered, unable to forgive, unable to forget.

Four days after, I was still in the same state of hurt. I honestly didn't know how to let go. Every time I tried, these scenarios would come back to haunt me. It seemed like a point of no return. Even now, it still does.

But then I came across this post just moments earlier that reduced me to tears. I was just randomly browsing. And here's what Karen said:

I’ve come to realise that the words “fate” and “destiny” are meaningless to me.

Whereas I discover one of life’s sweetest words - grace.

It heals all that is broken inside me, and makes me want to change my life. To live the best I can. With purpose. With significance. With gratitude. With happiness.

I still can't forget. But maybe it's time to let go and stop torturing myself.