Okay, for starters, 13 months? How? Where did the time go? I am sitting here, full of anxiety, nerves, fear, happiness, excitement, and in all honesty, shock.
13 months ago today, I too, was feeling all those feelings. Anxiety, nerves, fear about the surgery I would undergo in just a few short sleepless hours. Happiness and excitement for the fact that I may, in just a few months, be able to start living the life of a normal 26 year old girl. Shock that I was going to have brain surgery, they were going to shave a part of my head, that I would have a cow heart permanently patched to my skull, and that this was all happening to me.
Tonight, 13 months later, I am again sitting here full of emotion. Anxiety, nerves, fear about the idea that I will be signing my life (and bank account) away in just a few short sleepless hours. Happiness and excitement for the fact that I am living the normal life of a 26 year old girl by buying my very first home. Shock, that in a little over a year after having brain surgery, having part of my head shaved, a cow heart patched to my skull, that I am able to accomplish this HUGE milestone in my life.
Never. Never in the 12 months previous to having the offer accepted on the house would I have believed anyone that said I would be able to do this. Seriously. I could barely go to work each day, let alone make my bed in the morning. I had surgery, I was out of work for two months. I was unsure of a job scenario for this past year. I felt I couldn't leave because I was so emotionally attached to my sister's addiction. I had dinner on the table every night, a DVR in my room, a cleaning lady and a fancy new house. Let's be honest, I was living comfortably.
However, the countless times I said "I am so ready to get out", "I need to move out", "How long until I can realistically do this?" are now a reality. I am ready to get out. I am moving out. Realistically, I can do this.
It is so funny to me how my mind and body work. Before my surgery, yes I was an emotional wreck. I felt every emotion in the book and I feel like I probably even made up a few. However, I never second guessed my decision. I was confident in the fact it was the right thing for me, that I would come out of it 100% better, and I would never regret having the surgery. I was positive, sure, and always hopeful.
Brain surgery. No big deal. I was okay with it. I could do it.
Homeownership. Slightly different story. I am an overwhelmed maniac. Don't get me wrong. I am so, so excited. I can't wait to be on my own, have my own space, and be a grown up. But, there is so much fear and anxiety attached to this decision. Is this the right time? Can I live by myself? Is this the right location? (With these weather patterns, I am second guessing this more and more ... South is looking REAL good these days!) Do I want to paint this room a color? Will I have a roommate? Can I afford to live on a tight budget? Do I bother getting extra sports channels to watch the sucky Phillies this year?
I am trying to practice what I preached throughout the surgery and recovery. Stop asking what if. Deal with what is at hand. And, I know I will. I am just finding so many ways to compare these two HUGE life changing scenarios that I have dealt with in the last year. I am literally sitting here shaking my head at the fact that I was more okay with my surgery than I am with signing these papers tomorrow.
Or is it just like what they say about child birth and its been long enough since the surgery that I am forgetting all that fear and anxiety I had leading up to it?
Alright, enough. There are so many things I am confident with in this house, that I am now changing my mind. From here on out, all positives. I can't wait to have that key in my hand tomorrow. I can't wait to see the floors once they are laid. I can't wait to paint my room. I can't wait to sleep there for the first night. I can't wait to "cook" my first meal, or have someone do it for me. ;) I can't wait to see where I am going to put all my giraffe things. I can't wait to prove to myself that this is exactly what I should be doing at this point in my life.
So, this was not a very Chiari-based post, but more so an outlet to organize my chaotic thoughts.
Isn't it so cool that 13 months later my brain does hurt, BUT that its from thinking about paint colors and giraffe placement? AH! Life is Good. :)
