somewhere in the future
The garden just outside my window, is green and vibrant.
The coffee cools in my cup. I take the most daintiest sip and savor it, letting the earthy flavor fill me with its drops of joy. Gratitude floats blissfully through me, enhanced by the glorious effects of caffeine. I thought this day would never come.
Briefly, I contemplate about the period in my life where I couldn't even have coffee or really anything besides bland chicken and rice.
A small shiver runs through me at just the thought of it.
Taking my mug with me, I open the slider to the backyard. I use the word backyard relatively loosely. Its mountainous terrain stretches on for acres, unfenced to let all my animal friends in.
Gone is the busy highway of A1A and along with it, my oceanous backyard and in its place, is an endless stretch of nature, surrounded by douglas firs and the forever impressive redwood giants.
Stepping onto the porch, the breathtaking view smacks me in the face immediately, reminding me of my new reality.
And it’s aboslutely beautiful.
Last year, we sold most of our things, sadly closed down SeaPaints as my illness progressed, and then moved across the country, significantly reducing our ever-growing list of expenses and obligations.
In a few swift weeks, my life was completely different than naything I'd ever known. Most would find this scary, but to me, this new stretch of untouched land, felt instantly like home.
I take another grateful sip of the steamy, dark liquid in my mug.
With the rustic porch beneath my feet, I gaze out at the ombre horizon. The golden hour is near and the tips of the mountains are starting to glow with adoration beneath the sun. The trees rustle gently in the wind, creating a symphony of leaves, singing their enchanted melody. Pausing on the porch, I close my eyes and tilt my face towards the brightness of the sun.
It feels like love on my skin.
Tuning into the sounds of my surroundings, I listen intently. No cars. No horns. No sirens, unless you count me. Just an endless symphony of birds and a soft rustling of the wind through the trees.
I take a deep breath of fresh mountain air and savor it, letting it fill my lungs ever so slowly. A genuine smile stretches across my face.
I had forgotten what it felt like to be happy. To be pain free and today, I get to remember both of those things and not only rememeber them, but savor the warmth that they bring.
It’s a beautiful day, a great day even and I’m 3 days away from starting my period. But I can’t really tell that it’s on its way. Not these days at least.
Over the past few months, little by little, I’d begun healing. Things that I didn’t even know could heal, have.
Gone are the daily migraines. The dizziness. The joint pain. The crippling anxiety. The rage. The inense irritability. Even my life long depression is suddenly gone. The merciless systemic, chronic pain is gone too. And to my surprise, even the PMDD.
All gone.
And perhaps the best part of it all, I no longer consider ending my life because it finally feels good to be alive.
Some days, I hardly recognize myself anymore. The words that I have written among these pages, years ago, no longer feel like home, and I've admitedly deleted alot of them along the way to portect the other people in my story, but I know that the experience was very real, just altered, through the lens of PMDD.
I’m a firm believer that you have to taste the salt, to appreciate the sweet. Really taste them. I’ve tasted them each, thoroughly and individuall. I’ve held them both in my mouth, letting the aftertaste linger on my tongue. The result is bittersweet.
Behind me, I can hear the sliding door open.
Jose emerges and joins me on the porch, wrapping his arms around me from behind. I lean into him, his warmth pressing into my back.
While I’m looking out at the floral mountaneous view, he leans in, and whispers in my ear.
“Do you look back and think how wild this was? What an experience.”
“What do you mean?”
I assume he means the cross-country move, but I was wrong.
“What you achieved. What it grew into. The community. The business. Everything. The tour, traveling all over the country. The impact you had. You’ve achieved what most people only dream of and I hope you know that.”
His words catch me off guard and forceful tears make their way to my eyes.
It feels like a lifetime ago now.
“Sometimes,” I say, catching the tear that had snuck down my cheek.
We sit there like this for a few moments, neither of us bothering to speak, soaking in the beautiful colors and the quiet landscape.
Colors.
Breaking the silence, I turn to jose. "You know all of those things you just said?”
"Uh huh..” He says, the apprehension can be heard in his voice ever so slightly.
“Well, I was thinking, that I’m so glad you think so."
"I do. I meant every word."
"Great. How do you feel about reopening Seapaints part time next year?"
He laughs nervously and I take it as a yes.
"Maybe one day," he says.
a few months later
With each day that passes, I learn a little bit more about who I am, without gluten causing holy terror in my body. Without the storm. Without the chaos. Without chronic illness and amazingly, without PMDD, something I didn't even think was possible.
And these days, I no longer dream of dying, because life finally feels worth living.
I only simply dream, of helping people like you.
