putting some “good” in goodbye

Been thinking a lot about if I would post this, and if I did, how I would say what I want to say. Finally after trying to be careful and proper and witty and all the shit that I always hope I am when I write–I am just saying it like it is, putting it out there for the world–and me–to see. Here is your warning: this post is about my health, and it will have to do with the fact that I am a woman. Think about it …(yes, stop and think)…  and stop reading if this might make you squeemish or a jerk. This post is extremely personal and revealing. You have been warned.

Quick recap: Depressed. Seeing a bunch of people to help me get through it. Following lots of advice of said people and that has led me to this next leg of the journey towards wellness. Literally, there is almost nothing I won't do to feel better, and to ensure a whole new way of being better in the future. So, upon recommendation of one of my doctors, and because it is riddled with big-ass fibroids, I am saying goodbye to my uterus at 8:30 am tomorrow, September 15, 2009. Hysterectomy, I say bring it on.

A number of years ago I read a book by Caroline Myss, Anatomy of the Spirit. It was the first time I can remember learning about the connection between physical health and emotional/spiritual health. And now, years later, I think I am finally starting to get how it is all connected for me, and with this surgery–I am letting go, both physically and emotionally to some of my scars and starting over. Here is some of what I would like to say goodbye to. Will you help me say goodbye too?

I am saying goodbye to:

  • Periods. Holy shit do I hate them. I know, I can't think of one woman who loves them, but I am telling you, mine are particularly awful. Painful and well, gross. Can't wait to be done with this part of my uterus story.
  • As much as I can, I want to say goodbye to my story of the 10 year history of abuse. Done. Letting the pain and hurt, the wondering if I am crazy, and the shame be removed along with my uterus.
  • Turning off the tapes of being called slut, whore, easy and promiscuous. I will not allow myself to carry these words with me into the next phase of life–these words that some tried to give me long ago that never felt like mine in the first place. And these words will never be a part of my vocabulary, at all, ever.
  • Living outside of my body. I am intentionally trying to tell my body that it is safe, and ok to actually feeeeeeeeeel. I know, sounds ridiculous right? But can you imagine if you lived in a body that kept getting violated and hurt, would you let yourself live in it? Me thinks not. I haven't. Weight gain, depression, high tolerance for stress–all signs and signals that have been trying to reach me for decades. I will begin to listen, and try and coax myself back into my body, my temple, my earthly dwelling place, my home.
  • The miscarriage and other pregnancies. Yes–there, I said it. I have had both. I have no children. I will not ever be able to make a baby again, ever. Each pregnancy happened unwillingly. I am not ashamed, nor am I proud, of the choices I have made. But each one is a story that needs to be laid down and let go of.
  • Throwing away really cute underpants every month, from the unstoppable blowouts. Cute underpants from now on.
  • I will let go of the stories of being fondled as a 6 year old by my babysitter. And,
  • by a stranger who locked my only hope for help in a bathroom while he raped me, in a foreign city, in an unfamiliar place, alone, on a rooftop. And
  • by a friend. Instead of saying no, I pretended to be asleep. Too afraid to stop it from happening, I just let it happen. And never quite forgave myself for it.

I am allowing myself to be out here, prayed for. I am allowing G-d to do what G-d does–resurrects, heals, restores and works miracles. I believe that G-d can and will do a miraculous thing in me. I believe that in removing pain, and the place my body has remembered the pain, that this body can be healed, and yes, in Jesus name I am asking for it. In allowing myself to say this out loud, perhaps I can finally lay this stuff all down. And I will, with G-d's help. And yours.



31 thoughts on “putting some “good” in goodbye

  1. I feel like, in some way, I’m kneeling in the dirt with you and burying (not in a hiding way) things. Good bye and hello to new things!!!
    I love you sister and will be praying for you!!!! 🙂

  2. A time comes to each of us when we can turn a page, start a new chapter, or even burn the book. You’ll be in my prayers Tuesday as you make your journey. May you awaken from surgery to a bright day and a new life unfettered by the past.
    Christ’s peace and love

  3. Love you Rachel, even though we have never met, you are loved and supported by me, way over here. I’m not being flip, only sincere. Keep me posted about the surgery date so I can fall on my knees and talk to G-d about you and how important you are to all of us who care for you, and will stand by you.

  4. For all your warnings of making people squeemish, that was beautiful. I found myself nodding along with you. There are so many parts of your story that every woman has gone through and many that no one has or should go through. You are a very strong woman, Rachel. You will only be stronger in this next chapter. Be well and I really hope that one of these days…..SOON…..we get out on one of those walks. Or just coffee ;o)

  5. Wow. Just amazing. You kick ass, and you will be in my prayers tomorrow. May God bless the means of your cure, and may your letting go be complete.

  6. Body, spirit, mind…may all say a thank you and farewell to this piece of you that has held so much for so long. Here’s to letting go and to healing, my friend. I am sending love your way.

  7. You are beautiful inside and out and we will keep you in our thoughts and prayers tomorrow and many days ahead…. We love you!
    Shelley and Duke

  8. Good for you. Good riddance to medical problems and bad thoughts and whatever else you want to throw on the heap. Bye, bye baddies… get out.
    Did you ever read my “Dead Daddy” blog? I don’t remember. http://deaddaddy.blogspot.com/ Some of my poetry that I keep in a separate place because of the fact that it makes folks squeamish, too. It’s not very long.

  9. Beautifully written. Full of power because so many experiences like this never get spoken aloud and are hidden away from other women, and we think we are alone. For tomorrow, praying for health and strength. Will check for updates. I also look forward to seeing you soon!

  10. Hey kiddo. Thank you for being brave and for loving yourself enough to do what you’re doing, trying with all your might to heal and to make yourself feel better. You deserve all the love you can get, from others but most especially from yourself. You’re so great, and I’ve never even met you! 🙂 I’ll pray for you tomorrow, and afterward.

  11. I am going to stand with all of the other strong women in your life and hold you….love you. You are so brave. You are so strong…cause it takes someone that is strong to let go.
    Praying for you and sweetie.

  12. I’ve been through much of what you have, there is nothing I can say or miraculous words to make things better. I am thinking about you, praying for you. God bless you and keep you well, sane and lovely.

  13. Rachel, your courage is a gift and I pray for it to continue as source on your journey forward. I give thanks for your genuine wisdom and authentic approach in life, it has been a gift to me in more ways than you know. Health, healing and peace to you dear child of God. Much love and prayers.

  14. Rachel, I am constantly in awe of you – your strength and your cry for help when you need it. I am praying for you today. Danette

  15. Put in a prayer this AM–you know that you are surrounded by the warm embrace of so many people you have touched both far and near. You are never alone–I admire your capacity to take your moment of health stress into an opportunity for transformation. It’s already begun.
    Much love to you and those who lift you up at this moment.

  16. I so wish I’d read this yesterday, but I wasn’t online much. My dear Rachel, you are absolutely amazing. Brave and warm and funny and loving. Don’t forget it!
    Someone I know has fibroids and refers to them as her “aliens”. I hope all those aliens, physical and emotional, leave you in peace now.
    Prayers and hugs.

  17. Goodbye. Goodbye to the pain, the rage, the grief, the PAST. Goodbye forever.
    Hello to peace and comfort and cute underpants. Hello to the freedom that is now yours.
    You are one of the bravest people I know. I am holding you in grace, and in unity, with all of the other powerful women and men in your life.
    Love, love & more love –

  18. I’ve been away for too long and wish I had read this before the 15th – but know that I’m praying for you now, to let go of the pain and embrace a new day. Prayers for healing in every single way. Peace to you.

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