I launched this blog two months ago, confident I have enough material to write weekly posts about superior semicircular canal dehiscence (SSCD).
I do have enough ideas, but here are the things I didn't bargain for in my enthusiastic approach to this site: grief and crappy days impacting my ability to blog weekly.
I've become used to the crappy days -- the days when I walk like a drunk, fall on my ass, sleep for 14 hours straight, or wish I was dead because my vestibular migraines transform me into a possessed puking animal. I am averaging about 2-3 per week. These are days when I am completely debilitated.
For this post, I'm focusing on grief because no matter how many times in over six decades of life I convince myself that I am immune to going through the stages of grief, it always manages to grab me by surprise and shake me like a two-liter bottle of Diet Coke with a Mentos candy dropped in (a really fun experiment if you enjoy exploding things).
I haven't posted to this new blog because grief left me paralyzed after I lost my full-time job, applied for accommodations at school, and donned the legal definition of "disabled" like an ugly Christmas sweater. I will never go back to full-time work as a technical writer. And although I never loved it like I love creative writing and teaching, it's a chapter that's over. Forever. And I'm sad about it.
I am grieving a few things: the loss of a lucrative career, the loss of my youth as I navigate my sixties, and the loss of my ability to power through bad SSCD days.
I am slowly emerging from grief as I realize that I am not exempt from it. There's also the epiphany that I am not special, but indeed totally human. I recognize that I have been down this road before. I do know how to sit with the discomfort it brings. This is why the image I used for this post is from my 2014 TEDx talk, How a Brain Injury Made Me Smarter.
I wanted to remind myself of what I CAN do.
Ten years ago when I gave my first TEDx talk, I was in a similar place following a brain injury. I had no clue what was next for me. I had no job, I had not started my graduate degree yet, and I was clinically depressed. And yet...I frequently was asked to give advice to others going through similar challenges and I did so joyfully.
It's funny how well I am able to advocate for others in situations like mine and how I still think that this somehow excuses me from my own grief. Maybe it's something I've used to avoid MY grief.
I've written these five strategies for coping with grief, mostly for me. But they are universal. And perhaps they may help another person with SSCD cope.
Five Strategies for Coping with Grief
1. Express Your Emotions
Allow yourself to express whatever you're feeling, without judgment. This could be through talking with friends or family, writing in a journal, or engaging in creative activities such as painting or music. Expression is a powerful tool for processing emotions. This is why I love memoirs, proprioceptive writing, journaling, and working on my MFA.
2. Seek Support
Lean on your support network during times of transition. This can include friends, family, support groups, or professional help from a counselor or therapist. Sharing your experiences and feelings with others who understand or empathize can provide comfort and perspective. I am grateful for a great therapist, excellent friends, and people who don't try to cajole me out of grief.
3. Establish Routines
Creating new routines can help anchor you during times of change. Routines provide a sense of normalcy and control amidst the chaos of transition. They can also be a way to incorporate self-care practices into your daily life, which is crucial for emotional well-being. This is really hard when I can't predict when a migraine is coming, or I no longer have to be at work by a certain time. The temptation to do nothing is great.
4. Find Meaning
Seeking meaning in the midst of grief can be a powerful way to cope with the emotions of life changes. This could involve reflecting on what you've learned from past experiences, how you've grown, or what values you want to carry forward into your new circumstances. Still working on this one. Questioning so much about my meaning and purpose. I'm guessing this is normal at this stage in my life, regardless of my health.
5. Allow Time to Adjust
Understand that adjusting to significant life changes takes time. Be patient with yourself as you navigate this process. There's no set timeline for grieving or adapting to new situations. Allow yourself to move through this period at your own pace. I move slowly. I am not required to apologize for it. It is not going to change.
Perhaps the one that hits hardest for me is number 5. I am not good at slowing down or saying no, even when my body commands, "You must!"
Does life give us the lessons we most need repeatedly? I say yes.
Do I like it? Nope.
I am reminded that nothing in life is permanent and that in the time I have left on earth, I must grab the good days and squeeze the juice out of them doing the things that I enjoy, that give me a new sense of meaning.
And so I write. And I write. And I write. I realize I've been waiting a lifetime for the opportunity to write and learn the way I want to, and yet it's okay to grieve what will never be again.
Life, in its essence, is a tapestry of changes—each thread representing shifts, transformations, and transitions that define our existence.
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