loaded questions.

In my last entry I was full of optimism and wrote that fear was gone. Little did I know that having my head cut open was only the beginning of this very dark and difficult journey.

People see the self that is healing, that is improving, and that is rebuilding. They have the best of intentions when asking about how I am doing; it's just that my answer is too long to say, too long to type, and who wants to hear the FULL truth anyway?

The thing is-they will never fully understand how triumphant each small victory was or the strength that was needed to complete each step in the process of complete recovery, a place I have yet to attain. The paralyzing fear of both the known and the unknown was something to overcome. The devastating loss of quality of life, though "temporary," was something to overcome. Every single day and every single night was something to overcome.

There were very dark days-ones where I thought I would never be able to sing again, ones where I thought I would never be able to walk again, ones where I thought I would never be able to teach again, ones where I thought I would never be able to be myself again, and ones where I thought that they might be my last. Truly.

I am not sharing that so you will pity me. Rather, I'd like to shed light on the depth of God's strength, without which, I could NOT have overcome.