My strength
People always say to me "I don't know how you do it!", "I couldn't do it I don't think I'd be strong enough".
I don't know how to answer them, I just do it. I just put one foot in front of the other and try not to fall down.
Two things happen this week made me reflect on my strength.
Firstly I met with the psychiatrist, I have long suffered with the impact of trying to be strong: depression and anxiety.
After talking to my life with him,
how I work, how I feel, he praised me for my strength-me strong? I don't
think so he reassured me that I am, given what I face many would have
fallen apart.
He gave me Time to process this statement and I burst into tears.
What he didn't know was less than 48 hours before my appointment I had watch my grandma passed away.
I took great pride in telling him
that I knew exactly the source of my resilience-the inspiration for my
strength-my grandmother.
Age 27 she contracted polio. She
was in hospital and rehabilitation for months. Leaving behind a
one-year-old (my mother) and an infant.
Over the next 60 years, a miracle
in itself, her body gradually failed her as a result of the polio and in the end she was confined
to a powered chair and relied upon up to 20 carers a day to meet her
needs.
But in that 60 years she should do
well in the spirit that I have witnessed upfront for my 35 years. When I
became ill she often gave me advice, support and more recently she
prays my resilience and my spirit.
She was an avid reader of my blogs
and not so long ago picked up the phone just to ring me and tell me she
was proud of me, not something she would usually do.
I have the most love and respect
for my grandma I have so much pride for 60 year long fight, but even
more pride that this worrier was proud of me and my strength.
The strength I got from her.
I am strong-I can't confuse feeling weak with the fact that my life is hard.
I am strong- she made me that way
RIP Nanan Joy
