The grey clouds are shifting.  I can see glimpses of blue sky.  I feel my darkest days have passed.  I feel my strength building and my life returning.

I can look behind me now and see the bleakest moments that engulfed me over the past two months.  The diagnosis.  The surgeries.  The starting of dialysis.  These are all moments that triggered a chain of reactions.  Reactions of pain.  Reactions of hurt.  Reactions of disbelief and denial.

My dialysis nurse said to me today that I need to grieve.  I need to grieve for the life I’ve lost.  I need to grieve for the dreams that I can no longer chase.  I need to grieve for the tomorrow that won’t come.  And she is right.  And that is what I have been doing.  For two months I have grieved.

I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve cried in the bath or wept myself to sleep.  I’ve lost count of how many times I have found myself crawled up in a ball on the floor or on the couch unable to breath from the heaviness in my heart and in my chest.  I’ve lost count of how many times I wished to be someone else.  Someone healthy.  Someone not fighting for survival.

But as I listened to my nurses advice today I felt that the majority of my grieving is yesterday.  I feel that the majority of my grieving is behind me.  I can pin point my lowest day and my lowest moment.  I can remember the pain I felt.  I can remember the crippling heart ache and the feeling of complete and utter devastation.  I felt alone and weak.  I felt broken and without hope.  I will never forget that moment.  It will stay with me forever as a reminder of how hard life can get.  A reminder of how low I’ve been and how low I never want to be again.  A reminder of why I must fight everyday.  A reminder of the second chance I have been given.

And I think that is where I find myself today.  Call it acceptance.  Call it moving forward.  Call it the fourth step.  Call it whatever you want.  All I know is that I feel less like a zombie and more like a functioning human again.  My want to hibernate under my doona morning, noon and night has disappeared.  My want to scream, cry and rip my own skin off to be free of me is less.  My aching heart and heavy shoulders are lighter.  I again want to stand upright amongst friends.  I again want to see daylight.  I again want to talk and laugh.

I now want to be me.  Whoever that is.

I’m different.  And I want to be different.  I want to live differently.  I don’t know what that means yet, but I’m on my way in figuring it out.  It will take time.

The grey clouds are shifting.

I can see some blue sky, and I like it.