The healing starts now

It's officially March! I welcome it with wide open hands! 30 days until the wedding! Is this real?!
I know it's been forever since I posted, and lots has happened, especially in the past few days. This week I made the very difficult decision to quit my job as a newspaper reporter, after nearly four years with the position. The commute was too hard on my body, especially after all my surgeries. Instead of healing and recovering, my body was suffering. My sleep was suffering. My health was suffering - mental and physical. I have begun my physical therapy sessions, and (after not being able to move my neck Monday morning), now a chiropractor. But the pain is still there, and the only way for me to get better is to actually LET myself get better.
The commute had been hard on me for a while, and ever since my first surgery in May I had been suffering with work. But I pushed through it. Then came another surgery, and I pushed through that. Then two more. Days of crying in pain and agony, both in the bathroom at work, and on my 45-minute commute. Days of popping an Ativan as soon as I got home from work, and crawling into bed at 8 p.m. JUST so I could get enough rest to do it all again the next day. Trying to schedule the commute into my life: my endless doctor's appointments and wedding planning. Flexing hours so I could make it to my psychiatrist, then to work, then get my work done, then leave by a certain hour just to be home in time to see my physical therapist. The stress, and the pain, never ended.
I spoke with Sean, family, friends and my psychiatrist about this for months. I was always in pain, and the commute took away from my recovery. But I felt there wasn't another option. I felt I should be "strong" and push through. After all, I am 27. I should be able to work. Commute and all. Four surgeries later and all. Wedding planning and all. Scary, life-changing Li Fraumeni Syndrome diagnosis and all.
But the truth is, I wasn't OK, no matter how much I tried to hide it. It was a chore to wake up every morning, get dressed, put on makeup and then a happy face. By the time the day was over I was spent. Crashed. I wanted nothing more than to crawl in a hole and never come out. But tomorrow always came, and I forced myself to do it again, and again and again.
I wasn't OK. I was crying almost every day and night. I was throwing tantrums. The mental distress lead to physical pain, and the physical pain lead to mental distress. I was exhausted. Every day. I never gave myself time to heal, a chance to recover. I never actually allowed myself to recuperate from the breast cancer and the four surgeries, and the physical and emotional toll it took on me every single day.
So Tuesday I had a breakdown. I walked out of my office in the middle of the day. I went to the gas station, then drove around my office, giving myself two and three chances to calm down and go back in and face reality. But I never did. I drove home, in a panic attack. I was done. I couldn't do this to myself anymore. I wasn't OK and I couldn't handle it and it was time to face THAT reality.
Because I grew up with such a strong work ethic, quitting a job because it got "too hard" was something I swore I would never do. As an adult I should work. I should always have a job. And if it's tough? Oh well, that's life. That's being an adult.
When I lived in Lewistown in 2008 when I started my job the "commute" was less than three minutes. I wasn't dealing with breast cancer and recovering from surgeries. Now, my life is different. I live in State College, and unfortunately, as much as I hate to admit it, the job in Lewistown doesn't fit into my life anymore. The commute was weighing me down and making my physically and mentally unhealthy - at a time when I need to focus on wellness most of all. THIS, now, one month before the wedding, is when I should concentrate on getting better, resting, and being my best me. The commute took that away from me.
Notice how I keep saying "the commute." That was it. I LOVED my job. Every day I got to write the news. I LOVED the people I worked with. I looked forward to seeing them every day, and many of them became very close friends, and people I admire. My supervisors and people I work with were nothing short of INCREDIBLE to me, especially during this past year. They were kind, patient, supportive and understanding. They gave me time off after surgeries, helped pick up assignments I missed, sent me cards and emails, made sure to always say "hello" and ask how I was feeling or how the wedding planning was coming along. Leaving them is sad. They were an important part of my life for so long. That job was an important part of my life for so long.
I put much energy and effort into what I did. Writing for a newspaper after college was my dream job in 2008, and because of where I worked, it remained my dream job. I was so lucky I got to do what I loved every day, and got to spend time with people I loved, every day.
But my priorities have changed a little bit. After seeing myself on Tuesday, I realized I never want to be like that again, not if I can help it. If I can change what is causing my physical and mental distress, then I need to. I need to re-evaluate, re-calculate, and take control of my life.
Much of this came from discussions with my psychiatrist who presented me with so many options to try to get myself better: take a month off, take a few days off here and there, work from home, etc. But I always said "no," thinking there was no way out, no way I could make any of this better. But then on Tuesday I decided I DO need to fix this, for myself.
So I talked with Sean and my mom, and even had an extra session with my psychiatrist, and we talked with my HR department at work, and figured out a way to make my benefits stretch, and then go on COBRA, until Sean and I are married, at which time I can go on his insurance. And I'll get a job in State College. I'll take it slow. Let myself heal first, recover. Let myself actually BE in therapy sessions with my psychiatrist, instead of running my schedule in my mind and wondering if I have enough hours in the day. I can choose sleeping AND showering, not one or the other. I can take time to focus on me. To focus on healing from all this. To prepare myself for the future, which unfortunately holds other surgeries. But first: focus on me. The wedding. As my psychiatrist said: I only get this month before the wedding ONCE. I am going to let myself BE in it, revel in it, ENJOY it. Get better in it. Heal in it. Physically, mentally, emotionally.
There was a way out. Sure, I had to hit rock bottom to get there, but I found it. I made the change I needed for ME. This week begins a new chapter. It's scary, and it definitely wasn't planned. But I know it's for the best. I think I've always known.
I'm just so blessed to have the support of Sean, and all my family and friends, throughout this process. They recognize, maybe even before I did, that I need to recover. I can't do it all. I need to take care of myself. I admit that now. I realize that now. The healing starts now.