I guess I’ve only started to tell people about my condition recently because the surgery is finally happening. Over a year and a half ago, I discovered I have ASD. It means there’s a hole in my heart that prevents it from functioning properly. I apparently had this since I was very young but have always been misdiagnosed for it being atshma. I had a minimally invasive surgery through a cathader back in march of this year, but they discovered the position of the hole and the size would not work through that procedure. So after several months of waiting I finally got approved for open heart surgery which happens on Aug 31. First question everyone asks me, is if I’m scared? Fuck yeah I’m scared, but I’ll die before I admit it. I usually just say “no”, and I’m more mad st the fact that had they found this early on and had it fixed.. I probably would’ve been able to grow taller or to my full DNA’s potential. I never mentioned my sickness before because I had a lot of people that grew up with me accusing me of making false claims about being sick and I was just seeking attention. Especially people through my tumblr. I stopped posting about my life and personal details on there because of people passing their judgements, but at this point in my life. I no longer care, because I’m writing these little notes for myself to look back on. If anyone else is interested in reading these good for you, if you’re not that’s fine too. Anyways, I’m sort of glad I can fix this hole so I can hopefully do more physical activity which I was never able to do when I was younger. Which means I can probably go on more adventures and do some hiking! What I’m worried about is the scar I’ll get from this surgery. I’ve already had plenty of scars before but surgery scars can come out horrid if not healed properly. Well, that’s my life at the moment. Sending good vibes!
Just remember you are loved.
My heart is as fragile as a well preserved one. Even though it exists, it can easily be broken. Just because the knowledge of knowing my heart is only 23 years young, doesn’t mean that the inside of it hasn’t already been deteriorating as if it were an 80 year old smoking mans heart. My lungs, let me get to my lungs. The doctor tells me the pressure in my lungs are at very high levels and are surprised I still appear to be alright without being dwindled into any machines. I truly thank God for that by the way. It’s over my heard how I am waking up every morning, getting to see the world another day, and do it all again the next.
As for those of you who wondered, or for those of you who ever doubted I had any medical issues when I complained as a teenager. I knew there was something wrong with me, but I also thought I’d be dying by the time I’m 30 and death was the 4 walls that surrounded me. I guess you can say my “crazy” thoughts during those times were right. I had always avoided the docs who could diagnose me because I found no point in seeking medical attention. Truth be told, If I hadn’t fallen in love and I hadn’t found someone to make me see a future for myself. I probably would still be on my spiraling mess of a life.. and dead at 30.
So many people thought I was crying wolf and thought I was just making bullshit up about the issues with my heart. Well, its real. I haven’t gotten a chance to really talk to anyone much about it, because talk of sap stuff in person to someone makes me feel a little lame and a little helpless. Oh I hate seeing someones facial expression towards me like I’m a baby deer. The hole in my heart is about the size of a nickel. The pressure in my lungs, well that could cause me to have a heart attack at any moment. “You’ve been walking around with heart failure” – MY DOC.
Now my worries? I worry about the size of the scar for open heart surgery. I would hate it down the middle of my chest. I want for there to be another option. With the issues I have inside my mind, this would be just the big last stab to my self esteem. I’m just waiting for the insurance to approve whether or not and which surgery I’d be able to get. I don’t know what to do with myself in the next few months. I don’t know whether to continue with school or just vacation my way until whatever happens– happens.
Regrets you’ll never know and the regrets I hope to never make again.
- Give up on myself for the thought of being good for someone else.
- How the foolish me ever fell in love with someone like you.
- Eat more, sleep more, smile more.
- Say “Thankyou, Sorry, and I love you” every chance I get.
- Speak what my heart wants and let things fall into place.
When you truly care for someone, you don’t look for faults. You don’t look for answers. You don’t look for mistakes. Instead, you fight the mistakes. You accept the faults and you overlook excuses. The measure of love is when you love without measure. There are rare chances that you’ll meet the person you love and who loves you in return. So once you have it, don’t let it go. The chance may never come your way again.
I forgot how great I can be when I really put my mind and effort into something.
What if it had been different? What if one thing that significantly shaped who I am had not occurred. What if you had never hurt me. What if I didn’t know what pain was. What if I could have peace with who I was instead of blaming myself and seeing nothing but the faulty ideals you made upon me. The simple kind words slipped between your lips rather than the sharp ones that slit through my ears and sunk into my heart. Those painful words that took upon what was vacant in my mind. It settled in and brewed me into the fragile woman I am today. It’s difficult to feel loved and I find it much easier to resonate with disappointments and critiques. The cost of restoration for my sanity and to rebuild a foundation of sentimental value for myself has become immense. My faulty self has found comfort in pain and at disbelief when it comes to love and happiness. Instilled with criticism of not being enough, the ideal of perfection, and becoming the best or you are worth nothing at all. This battle between myself and my thoughts have become a day-to-day basis. This feeling that creeps into my mind when it has no real occupant, but the objective thought, a distinct memory from you is what still haunts me. This battle I fight feels hopeless because neither I, nor it can win. This constant fight consumes me, drowns me in sadness, and smiles as it leads me to a puddle of depression.
I wish that you could release me from these thoughts, but you are no longer the one who carries the chains. It is I, who’s locked myself in this cage. To which I cannot seem to find the will or a way to set myself free. I am forever chained and a prisoner of my own thoughts..