Gutting it out.

I love a good laugh with my kids. It's fun. We're on equal grounds when we share laughter. In this picture we're in the USA having sour candy. The boys screwed their faces all up! We laugh and laugh and laugh. It's a good memory.

In the months prior to this picture, there wasn't much laughter. There was something quite different. The word I use is terror.  It was in the those months that I was disabled with the infectious disease, tuberculosis.

There is so much to goes into my story of TB. God knows how often I've tried to write it down and left the story untold. I can't seem to find a way to complete my thoughts..Even now I struggle with words. I type, then delete, edit, re-word, delete, and finally in the end I stand up and walk away defeated. I leave the words hoping they will take a life of their own. But they don't. They just sit there, looking at me hoping that I will bring them to life. I stare back and hope they will do the hard work and know what to say with how I feel, how I've changed, and where my mind goes every single day on that one single topic--terrorizing pain.

Even now I want to write more. But again though I have nothing to hide...I pause. I'm about to walk away...again.

When someone goes through a traumatizing experience the path of recovery comes in its fullest measure by getting the words out. Funny thing, is that the words are almost impossible to get out. Where do I start with something so deep and life altering? What I have learned is that sometimes there is no starting point at all.. Sometimes you just have to start somewhere and.......

jump.

Even if it's messy like this piece.

My story comes out in messy bits and pieces. This is that one teeny bit. Just getting down a bit of the guts.