Today marks five months since my life changed. Five months since I almost lost my life. Five months since I found a new mission in life. Five months. Five long, long months.
These have been the hardest five months of my life. Every night I wonder if I will wake up the next morning. I pray as if I won’t. Almost every single night I make peace with the fact that statistically speaking I am still a walking time bomb and will be increasingly so for four more years. I think equally as much about how I will handle losing one of my dogs as I do about who will take my dogs if something happens to me.
I cry more.
I have changed. I have become infinitely more patient in some ways and have lost all patience with others. I have taken several steps forward and taken a few steps back. I have questioned the meaning of everything and found solace in knowing it’s not my place to know all of the answers.
More than anything, I have had to learn to be comfortable with being alone again. For the first several months I was hardly alone any. I couldn’t stand to be alone. Over the last month that has flipped to where I am alone an enormous amount of time. I’ve had to learn to trust myself being alone again. I’ve had to learn how to not focus on every little issue. I’ve had to learn how to sit in silence without my mind going to the darkest corner if can find.
One hundred and fifty-two days. Three thousand, six hundred and fifty hours. Two hundred and nineteen thousand minutes.